THE HISTORIE OF EVRIPEDES.

GOod fortune alwayes attends not an illustrious birth, and great men are not alwayes happy, for if a great birth could have engaged fortune, and my former riches obtained my felici­ty, I had not been in this condition which now you see me, though I must confesse in this estate of Poverty, and solitude, I find more content then in my former greatnesse, and tu­multuous engagements in the world. In the Countrey of Cilicia I first drew breath, and not farre from the famous City of Nico­polis was I bred; the greatnesse of my parents was eminently known in that Countrey, though so great an estate through me hath found an over­throw, I will not tell you of the nobility, and and antiquity of my pre­decessors, nor the great opulency of my parents. I being their only child I [Page 5] wanted for nothing procurable, neither for littrature, nor armes, to the latter of which in my youth I was much addicted. The exercise of these employments took up my age of puberty, and having been well grounded in both, I desired to make use of my armes abroad, but my pa­rents denying me so dangerous an imployment, I was constrained to abide under their indulgent wings, being the joy and comfort of their old age. I had scarce attained seventeen years, when to my grief my mother departed into the Subterranean walks of the Stigean grove, and before two years more had passed, my father ran the like fortune, being suddenly struck by the hand of the inexorable Parca. My father seeing a stayednesse in me, which was not▪ usual to such young years, left me sole Gardian to my self, and with his death surrendred up those possessions which were sufficiently great. Some time I spent in just tears for my parents losse, till time had consumed the moisture of my eyes, and wore away the sadnesse from my heart, then having the reines in my own hand I purposed to put those reso­lutions into act, which the indulgency of my parents had deterr'd. For which end, having two Uncles, one the brother of my father, the other of my mother, I desired them to look to my estate at home, whilest I sought renown abroad; I made known my desires, and urg'd them to grant my request, they endeavoured to disswade me, but in vain, which seeing, they promised (to my joy) to fulfil my desires. The eldest son of my fathers brother named Araterus knowing my resolutions, with great importunings got both my leave and his fathers to accompany me. Having spent some time in furnishing our selves with what we wanted, we departed from our own Countrey of Cilicia, having none in our company but a faithful servant of my own named Meador. Having furnished our selves with a ship at Tarsus, with a prosperous winde we failed along the Tyrrhenean sea, and for that our de­sires extended beyond the limits of an ordinary travel, we were resolved to pass into the Atlantick Ocean, and to view the utmost limits of the Romane Empire, and so returning at leasure, view the places of more fame. This our resolution carried us beyond Herculus's pillars, and passing the streight, we entred into that vast and spacious sea, which beats upon the coast of the Iberians. The winde as it were repenting his former kind­nesse, on a sudden began to rise, and Boreas with a full gale oppos'd out prow, making Neptunes watry surges bear the ship aloft, mounting it so high on those liquid rocks, that it might receive the more dangerous pre­cipiet: we endeavoured to gain the shore, but a contrary winde, contraried our design, and in spight of all our endeavours carried us far into the Oce­an, where we ran every moment the danger of death, and to aggravate our miseries, a dark and pitchy night overtook us, with the continual assaults of this furious tempest against our floating Castle, which sometimes had almost yielded to the battery of the winds, having so unsteady a foundation as the waters. When we perceived our endeavours to save the ship and our selves were vain, we committed our selves wholly to the protection of the Gods, and let the ship follow the fortune of the waters, being carried along with the impetuous blasts of the enraged wind. The night so dark that we could not see our own deaths, nor the imminent danger we were in, at last vaded, the wisht for day appearing, but with a troubled skie, clouds accumelating with that crassitude, as if in despight of the Sun they would transvert the day into night. The winde having this day and the ensuing night vented its fury, began to diminish its rage of its self, or the gods pitying our condition, gave a countermand to the encounters of the inferiour windy and watry Dei­ties. At last our weather beaten ship, and both affrighted and tyred Mare­ners were driven upon the coasts of a small and unknown Island, joyful we had escaped this danger, we desired to ease our selves on the Land, and there [Page 6] on a sure foundation poure out our prayers to the gods. Some of us passed in­to the Island in a boat, which we had for the like occasions, whilest the others remained in the ship. We wondred we could find no harbour for our ship, nor scarce could we attain Land with the boat. Araterus and I being desirous to see what place fortune had driven us to, and to know of the inhabitants in what Countrey we were, after some repast on the shore, we left the rest of the ship, giving them orders to stay our return. Not knowing what dangers might occur, we put on our armour, and with Meador (my servant) passed into the Island: We intended not to go far, because the evening approached, but entring a walk beset with green fair-spread trees, by the side of a small clear rivulet, which with a gentle murmur hasted into a bigger river, which carried it as a tribute to the Ocean, we had passed farther then we were aware of, the pleasantness of the walk stealing away our denotation of the time. The end of this walk conveyed us into a most dilectable grove, in the which was the most pleasing walks that might be, a place as we thought consecra­ted to Diana and her nimphs. But that which made us wonder was, that in this pleasant Island, we could neither see man nor beast, nor the [...]oo [...]ing of any living creature, for which cause we gave it the name of D [...]sola [...]. Curiosity led us into this Grove, still filling us with admiration that these pleasant should be uninhabited places, and the silence of the place struck an awe upon our spirits, that we durst not communicate by the ton [...]ue the cogitations which lay in our breasts, for fear of breaking a Law which seem'd to be imposed on those that entred, besides a Majesty accompanied the place, which made us think it no lesse then sacred. We were now a­bout to return, finding it already night in that obumbrated place, when we found the musings we had entertain'd had made us lose our Judgments for return, the path that brought us into this Labyrinth could not be retrod, though searched by the memory of us all, and the more we thought to extricate our selves, the more were we intangled in this Dedalian Grove.

Seeing necessity caused our stay, and that our hopes for departure were abolisht, we left retriving the path, to seek some convenient repose, hoping the next Sun would accommodate us with light to finde that which then we sought in vain. I had many times pitcht upon places for our repose, and as often (through my unsettled thoughts) rejected them. Thinking to find some better than the last I had pitcht on, I made a further search into a place thicker than all the rest; entring the place I espied a large Cave, the entrance being paved with mosse. This place I thought most convenient to shelter us from any annoyance of the heavens. The entrance was impleat with a silent darknesse, and with a little discent; we went but few paces within the mouth least we might precipitate our selves in that obscure place. We soon betook our selves to enjoy that rest, which nature requires, and of which through our danger at sea, we had been much deprived. Ara­terus and my servant had soon entred their living death, whilest my ageta­ting thoughts had kept open the windows of my senses. But endeavouring to suppress the motions of my minde, I heard certain emotions within the Cave, which gave a check to my thoughts and a stop to my desire of sleep, and attending what might ensue, I perceived the noise to approach, and suddenly felt some blows which I could not see acted, because of the obscurity of the place. This engaged me to rise, and with my sword to defend my self, the noise I made in striking (which light on nothing but the sides or ground of the Cave) awaked Araterus, who half amazed, and dis­composed at being so suddenly awaked, had like to have offended me more then my unseen adversaries, for hearing our blowes, he engaged him­self in the dark, and with a forcible blow a little wounded my head, I made [Page 7] known to him his unseene perpetration, and gained him to retire, leaving me to defend my selfe from the unseene blowes of my un­known adversaries. I wondred, when feeling their blows, they cut not, nor struck as if in the hands of a weaponist, and so consusedly both behind and before, as if I had dealt with many adversaries, that I knew not how to de­fend my self, nor offend them, for my blows, though struck every way, could never be fastned on any, besides none answering to my demands, made me begin to think them some Phantasmes, or some unknown terene Deities which inhabited the Island, these thoughts made me retire to the mouth of the Cave, and not being pursued, I would not enter to disturb the sacred. Araterus had for the wound he had given me, applied some drogue which he usually carried about him. After this disturbance we took up our lodg­ing at the very mouth of the Cave, and not trusting to my imagination, one of us watcht whilest the other slept, and in this sort we spent the night. Assoon as the day began fairly to display it self, we arose, and resolving to see whither my thoughts of those Phantasmes were true conceptions, we entred the Cave, and the light demonstrated the wounds I had given the earth where I had that strange combat.

But passing farther we came into a four quare room arched with stone, and in the middle of it a Tomb, more fair then rich, with a certain inscription which we could not understand, our perquestions could find no creature that might give us any light into these novils, which made us depart, alto­gether unsatisfied. It was not without trouble that we found the path which led us to the place where we left our boat, but arriving there we found, that both the ship and it were departed: we could not conjecture why they left us, except they thought we were devoured by wild beasts or some other accident had hapned us because we stayed. We saw our case was desperate, in that we were left upon an Island where we knew not that any came, ex­cept driven by the like chance as our selves, and where was neither beasts, nor fruit that might serve for food, unless some certain nuts which we e­spied in the Grove. But for that we saw no help, we forced our selves to a generous patience, traversing the shore, if happily we might see any vessel which might transport us thence. Two dayes and two nights passed, and not the least hope appeared to our sight, the next day wandring upon the sea with our eyes; we beheld something like a small boat floating upon the sea, the calm which succeded the last storm was great, but a gentle Zepherus curling the face of the sea brought that which we had seen into more perfect view, which then we saw to be a chest, which we judged to proceed from some naufrage in this last storm. The wind and the gentle moving of the water at last cast this chest on the shore, not farre from the place where we were, which moved us to see what it might contain, ho­ping to find something that might preserve our lives, for the distress we were in for lack of food made all our thoughts run on nothing else, but with some labour and difficulty having gotten it out of the water, I lifted up the lid and beheld a sad object of pity, which was a very young child in rich swadling cloaths, as I thought dead, but at last I perceived it breath, and saw that sleep had only preserv'd its life. The distress of this tender infant had utterly taken away the thought of our own, and now our prayers and our tears call'd the gods to the help of none but it. I took it up in my arms and saw it was a boy, which by the face and the rich cloaths which wrapt him, we judged to be the off-spring of no mean parents. I do not know I ever felt the like pity as then, to see a child per­secuted so soon, by the hand of fortune, and having run so great a danger at sea, must also run the hazard of being starved on land. The lovely looks of this tender infant, with the pretty smiles it made, caus'd so great a ruth in my soul, that not enduring the sight of so pitiful an object, I closed it in its tomb, I knew not how to preserve it alive, having no food to give it, or our selves; therefore I thought it must inevitably perish.

The next day Araterus and Meador leaving me alone with the sea-pre­served infant, went into the grove to gather some Nuts which we had espied there, to sustain us from perishing, and to preserve our lives for greater misfortunes. Being alone I uttered my complaints and prayers to the gods to help us from that desolate place, complaining on that constant inconstant Deity, attributing our misfortune to her perpetration. and our preservation to the more mercifull gods. In the midst of my cogitations, that the share the gods had in my preservation might appear, I espied a good tall ship pass not far from the Island. I lost not the opportunity, but with a strained voice, and many signes called them to my delivery; what with the one and with the other, they espied me, presently I saw they made towards the Island, and fill'd their ship boat with their armed men. I was about to implore their aid, but on a sudden they let me know that they intended to force me to that which I had intended to desire of them, and with their Armes and multitude made me their prisoner. Indeed I had little mind to resist, being willing to be shifted from that imminent danger I was then in, though I fell into another as great, I endeavoured to per­swade them to stay for Araterus my Cozen, and to take that booty too since they accompted me so, but nothing would prevail with those unrea­sonable men, neither of intreaty, nor in pitty, but left him exposed to an unquestionable starving. I accounted this incounter rather for the sake of the infant than of me, since I left there my heart, with my distressed Cozen of whom afterward I never heard tidings. The Chest being gree­dily preserv'd out of hope of Treasure (for their hast gave them not liber­ty to look into it) was carried with my self prisoner to their ship.

My eyes were still fixed on the shore, and no deportments could di­vert them thence, till the ship wherein I was insensibly had carried me be­yond the view of that tristfull remembrancer, yet could it not depart me from that sorrow, our unhappy disjunction had caus'd, and though I had lost the visible sight of the Isle, yet my imagination represented me there, as a partaker of Araterus's miseries. My musings at last were di­verted, by the remembrance of the child, whose safety consisted in my help, after they had seen that their prize was not so considerable as ex­pected, I perswaded the Chief with all the Oratory I had, to let the In­fant be preserv'd, whom the more cruel would have flung over-board: what the floting-house could afford, I procured for the Infant, though scarce fit­ting for so tender a Pallate, but necessity constrain'd me to administer such as I could get, and that with the gods help sav'd its life. We had faild two days when we espi'd a tall ship before the wind, to whom these Pirats that had made me Prisoner made up, thinking that she had been prize, but they found this ship full of armed men that met them with so much reso­luteness they expected not, that they would have disingaged themselves, but could not; we were at last after great slaughter of their men taken and made prisoners anew, but as it happened to better Masters.

After they had discarded the Pirats vessel, I was made known to the Chief of the other to be none of them, and had all the civility could be ask'd shew'd me by that generous Chief, who at my request had a great care on the infant, I with so much care regarded, having by so strange a fortune acquired it. I gave him the knowledge of my name which is Euri­pedes, and of my adventure at the dissolate Island, and asking so him what he knew of that place, he told me, that he had no other knowledge than by relation from others, which was, that many had endeavoured to inhabit there, but were molested in the night with apparitions of spirits, and with unsupportable blows were driven thence, the cause (as he heard) was that a man who inhabited that Isle, being a famous Druide, and having [Page 9] great knowledge in the infernal arts, after his death caused these Phanta [...]ms to guard his body, which lies in a Sepulchre in a cave compassed about with an intricate grove, and it is thought his Sarcophage incloses great riches, which hath caused many to adventure thither, but returned well beaten, yet he hardly believed the report, till I had confirmed him by relating what had happened to me there. The more we were acquainted, the more grew our friendship, and the more I perceived his good disposition: I found him to harbour not a seeming, but a true and generous amity, de­siring rather in deeds than in words to express his generosity. I found a great relaxation in his conversation, and a sweet engagement in his com­munication, so that being familiarly acquainted with him in some short time, he gave me an accompt what he was, and of the enterprise he was then going about, which because it is delightfull, and that you have given your self up to hear these stories of loves follies, I shall relate as near as I can to the form he gave it me in. And that you may not think it strange that I should after so long time remember these eveniments, you must know I had since my retirement collected them into a book which thus im­prints them in my mind: But thus he began his History.

Fortune that fickle Goddess made me believe she had changed her nature, and caus'd me to accuse those who call'd her inconstant, for as if in me only she meant to be immutable, she ballanc'd all things with a constant hand, neither could I accuse her with the least mutability. She made me be born a Prince, so bred me up, and (till of late) in all the course of my life gave me no cause to complain. But when that I assured my self to be her fortunate darling, she precipitated me from the top of her moving wheel, and conspiring with love to ruine me, turned her smiles into frowns. But that you may know (went he on) how she ef­fected my precipitation, I must tell you, I am named Bruadenor, Prince of the Veneti in Gaul, where with a prodigious constancie I had remained, till Love first arrested me. One evening as I was walking by the side of a grove, I had cast my eyes suddenly on an Object, which as suddenly sur­prized me, it was a Lady of incomparable beauty, without any com­pany, who with a sad aspect seem'd to rest her self under the tree's um­brage. This sight brought at first a kind of shivering, but afterwards a burn­ing into my breast, so that I being unacquainted with this disturbance, thought the Lady to be of the nature of the Basilisk who delates her poison through the eyes. But though I felt my self wounded by my sight, yet could I not withdraw my eyes from so lovely an object, till I had discovered my self. I then rendring her the courtesies which belonged to civility, made bold to enquire the cause of that sad and solitary encounter in a place so dangerous and subject to rapines, with all offering her my self and castle for her protection; She answered me, that solitude was consonant to her desires, and that she had deserted others to be left alone. But I still pressed her to accept of my protection and civility, giving her the knowledge of whom I was, and using all the perswasive Arguments I was capable of giving, which at last wrought upon her for an acceptance. Whilst with a softly pace we moved towards my Castle: I told her that my desires were great to know who she was, not so much out of curiosity, as to know if any way the small power I had, could render me any way serviceable to her, mani­festing by many words the great desire I had to de her service. She an­swered me, that all the services that could be rendred her, could do her no good, nothing but death alone was able to help her, but she added, that hitherto she had found no opportunity, though sought, to accomplish her desires, and that therefore she expected nothing now, but a continu­ation of her miseries.

This pressed me to a further enquiry, to know the cause of this affli­ction which thus depressed her, and though I uttered my inquisitions with many circumlocutions, because I would not seem so boldly to intrude, yet she perceived my desires, and to satisfie me, she said thus. Lest you should have any sinister opinion of me, whereby you may stain my honour in your thoughts, I shall freely declare who I am, and the occasion of my being unaccompanied, although in so doing I shall discover the frailty and almost impudicity of my actions constrained by a passion which some call Love. Before she proceeded I beseecht her not to conceive me guilty of such a crime, as to think any thing but vertue harbored in so delicate a vessel, protesting that my thoughts had not had the least intimation of any thing, but what was agreeable to vertue and honour. She replyed how that it could not be termed a crime, if that I had conceived any maleopi­nion of her, seeing that a just occasion had sprung from her encounter, and seeing that I had rendred so great a testification of the purity of my thoughts by my actions, she could not without running the hazard of ingratitude, suffer me to remain in ignorance concerning her self, and as with confi­dence she had trusted me with her honour, so without fear she might relate the preceeding actions of her life. After I had given her an assurance of my fidelity both for the one as the other, she proceeded thus.

Love is a passion, which differently possesses souls, and with a different fire consumes our vitals, if harbored in an immaculate breast, and reanswered by the object beloved with as pure flames, there is no content, joy or plea­sure, like to the scorching influences proceeding from each other, whereby they communicate the very essence of their love, with as pure breathings as the sacred Deities; the thoughts of so great a happiness hath oft times car­ried me into an extasie, what then would be the fruition? My desires have been as chast, and flames as pure, but that naked and blind deity hath fa­tally crost me, which makes me love with so much anxiety and torment: For Love not regarded, and not meeting with the desired flames, feeds on the life of the Lover, and it may be hath caused that Simile which compares love to the continual feeding Eagle on the liver of Tityus, which renew­ing makes him suffer continual unsufferable torment, so that the preemi­nency of pain may be ascribed to it. We see that those who feel and suffer extream pains to do and speak that, which they would not, were they not in that pain-forced frency: So often-times Lovers through the great vexa­tion and anxiety which they feel through the opposition of their Loves, do most extravagant actions, and women sometimes vary beyond the pudicity of their sex. This I bring as a Prologue for a favorable construction of those actions in my relation which may seem to pass the bounds of womanly pudicity. But briefly (proceeded she) to give you an account of my life it is this.

My name is Floria, and I am the sole daughter of the great Lord of the Santones on the other side of the river Ligeris, where till Love oppressed me, I lived with as great content as pleasure; but it fortuned that I was touched with its dart, since which I never well enjoyed my liberty, but of late more furious have been the assaults, the more they were despised by that cruel one the cause of my misery. The Object of this passion (not to hide any thing from you) is Subelta Lord of the Redones, one as valiant as cruel. We were acquainted sometime before this Tyrant took possession of my soul, and by his jovial Court-ship was I brought first to a likeing, and afterwards to a violent love, which forced me to express some small signes thereof, yet never transgressing the Lawes of modesty. He (cruel wretch!) soon perceived it, and as soon slighted my innocent affections, oftentimes despising that company, which before he had so much sought. He had no [Page 11] other reason for this but his own opinion, which was he accounted it, an extream folly for any to yield to so sottish a passion as Love, openly de­spising and speaking scoffingly of that Deity. In this budding of my Love hapned that which might have deracinated it, had it not been too deeply grounded, for my father being oppressed by Caelius a Roman Captain, I was given to him to be sent to Rome as a hostage for my fathers obedience. I must confess I parted not from my father with so much regret as from Su­b [...]l [...]a, and the thoughts for him made my journey unpleasant. I was had to that stately City the Mistress of the Universe, and by Augustus I was ap­pointed to wait on Julia his daughter, a place nothing dishonourable. The statelyness of the place, the pomp of the Court, the daily converse with the great ones, and the tender of services could not divert the passions I re­tained for Subelta. I rendred my self acceptable to Julia, and with my obe­dience gain'd her good liking. But though I served her with all willing duty, yet she observed a more than ordinary sadness still accompany me. One day she said (thinking it was because I was given in hostage, and re­mained as a Captive) that she had wondred at my sadness more than others, for she thought I had been there long enough to forget my home, and that there were many of my condition, who counted their exchange the happiest thing that could betide them, in coming to a place where they might learn that which naturally they had not, leaving their Barbarism for Civility, and but then living like humane Creatures, but she said, if that it grieved me to serve her, she would release me, or if it was because I remained in the condition of a slave, she would get Caesar to free me, bid­ding me to tell her truly the cause of my trouble, and not to doubt of her assistance. I seeing so great gentleness in the Princess, thanking the gods for that occasion fell upon my knees, and not without tears told her that it was not my captivity that caused my sadness, nor in that I was her servant, which I accounted the greatest bliss, yet seeing she had charged me to let her know the cause of my trouble I told her the truth. My words and my tears were so effectual, that she told me, although she greatly desired my company, yet she would rather shew her affection in pleasuring me than in contenting her self. I beseecht her not to oblige me with so many favours, for if she did, she would cause me endure a perpetual misery in parting from so benign a Princess. Within a short time after, she told me, she had gaind Caesar's leave for my departure, on condition, my father would give him other hostages. I made no question but to redeem me he would have given half his Signory. I sent him word of Caesars will, desiring him to festinate those who should supply my place: He moved with a fatherly love, used such speed that they arrived at Rome before I could expect them. Leaving those my father sent as a despositum for my fathers faith, in my place. I with great celerity hastened from Rome, once more visiting my native Countrey, but my chiefest joy was, that it harboured ungratefull Subelta.

Many of my friends visited me after my return, and Subelta among the rest, desiring to know the rarities of that stately place which I had deserted for his sake. I quickly left others company to enjoy his, and no joy or content was like to that when I thought I could pleasure him in my relations, of the City, the Court, the polity of the Courtiers, the behaviour of the Citizens, the Royalty of Caesar, and the magnitude and statelyness of the City, Temples and Palaces, spinning out my relations to lengthen the time, that I might enjoy his presence. But this content that I gave my self, did but more ardently sufflate that spark which remained in my breast, and inkindled a more violent flame, which ever since hath consumed my heart. That which tormented my soul was that I saw he remained in his former ob­durateness, [Page 12] and extreamly slighted me, which so pinched my heart, that it put me into a grievous sickness. She to whom I had used to commu­nicate my secrets, was ignorant of this, but perceiving something besides a natural sicknesse, conjur'd me to let her know what I ailed. Hoping the discovery might give some vent to my passions, I related to her (under the seal of silence) the torments I endured. She comforted me, and to quiet me promised much. But sickness encreasing, I was forced to write to Subelia declaring with as much modesty as sincerity, the great affliction I conceiv'd for those slightings he had made of my favours, and the true and affectionate Love I bore him. To this Letter which was conveyed to him by one I could trust with such a secret, he would return no an­swer, but a perverse obstinacy in his slights. The relation of this had almost put a period to my life, and happy had I been if it had been the last exigent thereof, but the gods have prolong'd it for future shame and miseries. I know not what Fate attends me, but all that ever I could do, could not overcome a passion so firmly fix'd in my mind, nor all his slightings and contumelies lessen the immoderate affection I bore him; so that the anxity of my mind, and indisposition of my body, bad so heightned my disease, that every one looked for my death, and it was much wished for by my self. But see the justice of the gods who heard my pray­ers, and avenged my trouble, for whilst I thus languished, that deity whom he had so scossingly derided struck him with a leaden Dart, and made him dote on Artesa, a great mans daughter of the Santones, who as she was inferiour to me in birth, so (by others judgement) in beauty. Here he was repay'd in his own coyn, and as he had dealt with me, she prompt­ed by divine vengeance handl'd him. When I heard of this vicissitude of fortune, my soul was mixt both with joy and grief. I rejoyced that he might know what Love was, and that he might be sensible of those tor­ments he had caus'd me to endure; but I was troubled that he suffered any pain, and that torment should touch the thing I Lov'd; for Love is of that nature, that it cannot consent to see the object beloved to endure any affliction, though it suffers by it the greatest despight. Had my love abated, or had hatred possest its place, then had I gone to have effected some precipitation against him, and with vigor to avenge his injuries.

But I still persisted in my passion for him, though he persisted in his hatred to me, but my sickness brought be at last to the very point of death, which exigent something diminished those flames for Subelta, and by the paine and torment I felt from the outward indisposition of my body, I thought them quite exstinguished, so that helping to overcome my self, I banisht him from my thoughts, and sought to obliterate him within my breast, and at last I found a great relaxation of my pain, for the cause be­ing taken away, the effects soon ceased. Recovering by little and little to the great joy of my father and friends, and no less to my self in that I had shaken off so powerful an enemy to my repose, I began to receive my former strength and to go abroad. I had no sooner recovered that vi­gor which formerly accompanied me, but I began to feel a little glowing and reviving of that fire. I thought had been extinguished, which now I saw was but raked under the ashes, and at the least mention of his name, it was ready to catch hold on something that would have annoyed my rest.

When I perceived the floods of sorrow had not quencht, nor my conti­nual torment extinguisht that spark, which lay raked up in the ashes of si­lence, and now began to be afflated by a new breath from Love, renuing my complaints I gave my self up a sacrifice for his Altar, and in a short time that flagrant spark enkindled by desire, possest every corner of my heart [Page 13] with its ascending flames, and this relapse came with a more violent mo­tion than the first assault; before with a tormented patience I sunk under the burthen, and with a contiual grief almost dispossest my self of life, but now agitated by a more violentick humour, I sought furibundously more assu­red precipitations. For as the relapse is alwayes more dangerous than the first falling into the disease, so was this second passion more likely to overwhelm me. Seeing therefore an assured torment, and a continual pain without the fruition of that, which I was never like to enjoy, I contracted a resoluti­on with my self, correspond to so violent a passion, as well to free my self from misery, as to let Subelta see how farre the force of Love had car­ried me.

This determination passed not the portals of my lips, but with a new resolution I desired to act this Tragedy in Subelta's presence, being thus hurried along with these violent motions, I studied nothing but how to effect my purposed precipitation; Hiding from my faithful servant the chief of my purpose, with many words I told her the desire I had to see Subelta, whereby I might give great ease to my perturbed breast, by pouring out those complaints against him, which I had prepared for the like occasion, telling her that I perswaded my self that (words being uttered from a pas­sion so resenting, were more powerful than dead letters) the effects would answer my hopes, but if it wrought not on Subelta, yet it would be a great relaxation to my mind, in that I had vented that which so much troubled my repose, hoping if that took no effect, I might have power (seeing the impossibility, and his ingratitude) to overcome my self, and to cede to the will of the gods. With other words powerful enough to gain her to that which she hoped might conduce to my quiet, I charm'd her to my motion, and answered her to the objections she made concerning the difficulty, and my honour. I had contrived before how to effect my design, and to escape with a good colour to save my reputation. I told her how I would desire my father for my healths sake to convey me to a place where I was brought up in my youth, and had took great delight in, hoping that the change of the aire might be a means to recover my health, and how that by the way I would find means to get from those who should accompany me, and that at my return I would contrive a story of my rape without mistrust. These things I told her, and what Love had infused into me, or rather the great desire I had to perpetrate that action I intended; so that seeing my resolutions were not to be beaten off, she con­descended to auxiliate me in my enterprize, not piercing to the bottom of my design.

It now remained that my feigned desires were known to my father, which were as soon granted as heard by him, little imagining my intentions. At last I was sent to this place well accoutred, with a special guard to se­cure my person from any rape, which were frequently committed by the Roman souldiers dispersed through the Countrey. I knew it would be im­possible to escape from the Castle whither I was going, to go to Subelta; therefore as I had before concluded, in our journey passing through a very thick wood we made an hal [...], and letting my Troop pass gently on, commanded none to stay with me but my confident, by which means we had a fine opportunity to escape, which without their suspition we effe­cted, directing our course a cross the wood, with such a speed as my desire could wish, entring the most intricate places of the Wood, which being spa­cious hid us from our searchers, and the obscurity of the night approaching gave us more confidence in our clandestine slight. Having almost wearied our horses, and our selves, not used to such hard service, we resolved to repose in some convenient place in the Wood, imagining our selves far e­nough [Page 14] from our Indagators, and espying a large Cave we resolved to lodge there. But Fortune who pursu'd me faster then those who I know condol'd my loss, and as a quick-sented blood-hound catcht us when we least suspected, for not considering the dangerous Animals which those spacious Woods harbour'd, we cast our selves into the very lodging of a furious Lion: My maid was no sooner alighted then assaulted, by the King of beasts, whose great strength so soon tare her weak corps, that she had no time to con­sider by what enemie she died. This miserable spectacle, fill'd me with a grief unexpressable, which took away the sense of my own danger, and as if I had been able to have reveng'd the death of that miserable creature, upon that Robust animal, I drew out a dagger which I had hid in my sleeve, to have effected a more bloody perpetration against my self, and with that small vigor I possest, flung it against the shaggy beast, which being well cuspidated to facilitate my own ruine, made a small entrance into his side, which so enraged this furious creature, that leaving the miserable carcase, he made at me, who desired rather to perish than live in so much mise­ry. But my horse fearful of his approach, by running away sav'd my life with its own, carrying me like a liveless statue upon his back, environ'd with so much misery, that I thought death a sweeter companion. The night which was fully entred into the darke shades of the wood, with the concussion of the leavie boughs, and the ugly noise of those Nocturnal crea­tures, which echoed through the Wood, and my solitude with the appre­hension of the late bloody spectacle I had beheld, cast me into so great an agony, heightned by the frailty of my sex, that you may better imagine than I relate. My horse having the liberty of his head, carried me all night up and down the Wood, not being contradicted with the least check of the reine, so that in the morning (whose approach had so often been wisht for) I found my self on the outside of the Wood, and happily meeting with a shepheard, I desired the liberty of his house, to repose my perturbed mind, and rest my defatigated limbs, which hy the best of mettals I procur'd. The encounter of my thoughts disturbed the rest of my body, and the agitation of mind took away the desire of sleep. But as the noise of the waters lulls one to sleep, so the commotions of these inward billows at last procured me a sweet oblivion, which yet was disturbed through the injections of Morpheus, for I saw a great Cage with this inscription, Nec vi, Nec Arte, an Emblem surely of my future miseries, for by and by I saw my self fast enclosed in it, and besieged with a great company of beasts, but at last, I saw a man who came and cut off the head of the chiefe conductor of the brutes, and dispersing the other, gave me li­berty.

I know not (proceeded the fair FLORIA) whether this was any su­pernatural representation from the gods, who often times forewarn us of our future miseries, by manifest signes, were not our eyes sealed with dis­regard, or whether it might be the operation of my affections, and ob­turbed thoughts, representing those Ideas it had preconceiv'd, according to the distemper of the natural body; or whether proceeding from the imagination, or the effects of the suscitated vapors and humours, working upon the fancy, but when I awaked I found it left greater impression in my minde than dreames ordinarily do. After I had given some re­pose to my body, though little, through the discomposure of my minde, I hired the shepherd to conduct me to Subelta's habitation, dis­guising my self as well as I could, for the better security of my per­son. After much travel I came to Condate, where I understood Subelta was in my fathers countrey with Artesa. The indisposition of my body, weak­ned through the assaults of my mind, rendred me unfit for travel, therefore, [Page 15] discharging the shepherd, I remained sometime there, hoping Subelta's return would some way terminate these discomposures. But stay being incom­petable with my hasty desires, I resolved to encounter him where he was, not considering into what preciptation I ran my life and honour, for the one I cared not how soon I lost it, but for the latter I should have had more regard. But having left Condate in this precipitancy I would not re­turn at my second thoughts, but proceeding in this capricious journey, with a resolution to evolve my self out of this labrinth of disquiets, by the fatal stroke of death, I have received some comfort in that through a special providence of the gods I have met one to whom with a confidence not usual I have made known my condition. And now (said she, look­ing more stedfastly in my face, with eyes that penetrated to my heart, and whose flames had already almost consumed it to ashes) you have heard without any latitation of my defects, the whole scene of this sad inter­lude, whose last act must compleat my Tragedy, but could you but see the integrity of my heart in these Caprichio's, with the strong influences that ascendant Love hath diffused on my soul, you will not altogether vitupe­rate disconsolate Floria for these inconsiderate and capricious actions. Here (went on Bruadenor) letting her vaile slide down over her face to hide those pearly drops, which the fire of Love, through the declaration and consideration of her own case had distilled, it seemed to me as the inter­position of the earth between Sol and bright Cinthia, whose umbrage casts so dark a vail; or as the Sun darkned through the embraces or intervention of his less splendid sister.

Love exhibiting the beauty of her intellectuals, as well as that of her form, by this time had taken a full and free possession of my soul, and had gained the chief ascendancy over my heart, so that first giving way to some sighs I said. Madam, Deserts are not always favoured by fortune, neither is Love alwayes a pleasurer of the will, for if the gods cross our desires, we should shew our patience in bearing their afflictions, and more resolute are those Lovers who evaporate the heat of their flames by sighs, and mittigate it with the moisture of their tears, then those who lese patient of delayes run themselves into a thousand precipitations, for self-murther is not the mark of a valiant person, but rather shews more cowardize, in that he dares not stand out the battel with that which causes his desperation, but to avoid it gives himself that which is not justifiable but by the hand of another. I cannot blame you in that you Love, or that its vigor hath caused you something to transgress the Pudor of your sex, though your acti­ons may be ill censured by many tongues. But I cannot without admira­tion and astonishment consider the obdurate heart of your despiser, and against him fulminate most just increpations. Subelta hath alwayes been my enemy, and hath sought occasions to endamage me, but the consider­ations of these impudicities hath rendred me his, and if this honour may be given to your entertainer, as but to command him into your service, you shall see how soon he shall be reduced to a more plyant humour. To this Floria returned me an answer, full of mildness and affection, not induring to hear of Subelta's being reduced by any other means, than by the relapse of his own will.

We were now come to the entrance of my Castle, which put a period to our discourse, giving my thoughts liberty to study complacencies to cause her stay. I rendred her into the hands of my mother, who knowing by me who she was, cherisht her in the place of a daughter. The night being come we retired to take our repose, but the agitation of my mind banisht sleep his wonted residence; for entring on a deep contemplation on the lustre of those beauties, which adorned the face and mind of Floria. I ran [Page 16] so far into a sea of thoughts, that I could not reach the Haven of repose that night. This was a new world to me, who resting before in the quietude of my minde, was diseased now with the disturbances of Love. My mind unequally ballanc't, was tossed upon the waves of my cogitations, some­times entring the lists for Love, sometimes opposing it as an adversary, wracked by torments and contrary thoughts I cry out. Ah Bruadenor! must thou also be enumerated amongst those, who have listed themselves un­der the extravagancies of Love? must thy folly be denoted? or is it an in­separable accident to all mortals? is it not better to live free than a cap­tive? and to be a master than a slave? why then dost thou debase that will, which hitherto hath been free, and make it become a slave to beauty? and to a God that delighteth in tyranny, by these beginnings of thy disquiets thou mayest judge the effects. Consider how many this pas­sion hath overthrown, recount but the tragedies it hath committed, and thou wilt find innumerable examples of murder and rapine, nay she whom thou adorest, is so involved in Love with another, that a door of hope is impossible to be opened unto thee; unfortunate! take example by others, consider the precipitancies it hath run her into, and deracinate this folly, before thou hast too much involved thy self in this common errour.

As if these words had given power to my will, I thought to have decussed this troublesome passion, but whole troops of cogitations, conducted by Love, gave these oppositions a most violent chocque, rebating their courage, he displayed his banners, subjected my reason, and led captive my will, and with a voice more beautifull to my eares, insuserrated these words.

Dost thou think thy self more wise than the Ancients, who have ho­nour'd me for a suppressor of follies? and call those extravagant who list themselves under my banner? Consider the innumerable follies attending upon youth, and consider how regularly I marshall their exorbitant moti­ons, and replenish them with many excellent and commendable virtues. Neither count thou my captivity a slavery, for though a bondage, yet full of sweet liberty, and though a prison, yet full of freedom, where tyranny is not exercised but to the content of the lover. If Mars have delighted in my thraldome, the muses have no lesse honour'd me, by coronizing my head with a crown of flowers, acknowledging the Deity I possess, the one in that I make the cowardliest valiant, and the timorous to atchieve that which without my assistance he would have fainted to have thought on, the other in that cropping the weeds of vice, I sow the seeds of virtue, and render the heart susceptible to the dictates of knowledge. I have made the ignorant become wise, and the learned infused with my spirit, render themselves as mortal Deities, and will you call me extravagant, who am the author of all science? Consider my power and not disabuse your self, for you are no more able to redeem your self out of my captivity, than the Gally-slave to free himself out of his chains.

In these violent contestations I spent the time that Sol resided in the o­ther Hemisphere, rising from my bed wholly captivated with the love of Floria. Love now began to subtelize my grosser spirits, and infuse devi­ces fitting for Amoretta's. For knowing the irrecoverable losse I suffer'd if Floria departed, I used all the eloquence and Rhetorick Love and passi­on could infuse, which so far prevailed with the loved Floria, that she con­descended to stay, and to let me send one into her fathers countrey to learn their deportments at her losse, as also to know the certainty of Subelta's be­ing there.

A day or two passed, wherein I contemplated the beauty so despised by [Page 17] the unhappy Subelta, unhappy in that he saw not his own happiness, find­ing no delight but in her company and conversation, whilst she with con­tinual showers of darts from those sparkling eyes, more lively than the coruscing diamonds, pierced my susceptible heart. I seemed not to live but in her sight, and I joyed in no other company than hers, but I con­tinually died when I considered my miserable estate, and though the motions of my eyes might have discovered the secrets of my heart, yet in her I perceived not the least regard. Oh the pains! oh the anguish my soul felt, when I thought of discovering my mind to her, fearing a killing repulse, and dreading the thunder of her anger, for a true Lover continu­ally lives in fear. But seeing she read not my mind by my countenance, nor my eyes the true messengers of the heart, I resolved, having a fit op­portunity in being alone with her in a boury to explaine my self, but as often as I was about to begin, fear repulsed my determination, but at last with a faul­tring tongue I emitted these words.

"Lady I have often heard of the wonderful and strange effects of Love, and the power of its operation, but I could hardly give credit to those speeches, because I never felt its flames, but being confirmed by your self with a more powerful influence, I have quitted all pretentions to unbelief. And if it may be inoffensive to your ears, and the boldnesse of your servant not suscitate anger, let me tell you, that I not only be­lieve but feel the power of that powerful Deity. I may be well van­quished when the most powerful potentates are subject to his yoak. Shall I say your beautie? your modestie, your chastitie, or your virtue hath overcome me? one was enough I confess, but all assaulted me, and have eternally captivated me. Think it not strange that I thus address my self to you, knowing already how your affections stand; I do it not to ask your love, for I am unworthie of it, but to crave your pity, in that you are not ignorant of these torments. If you Love without hope of obtaining, I live in despaire of having. If you are tormented without regard, yet let not me feel the same torments without your pity, for who can better Sympathize with the grieved, than those who feel a coequal paine? you cannot be insensible of my flames, if you weigh but the torments of your own. O happy Subelta! couldst thou see thy own happiness, hadst thou eyes given thee to see the beautie that loves thee, the chasti [...]y that follows thee, the virtue that desires thee, and that person which is about to sacrifice her self unto thee. Unhappy Subelta! unhappy in that thou rejectest one whose vertues equal thy vices, whose love thy hatred, and whose passion thy disdaine. Oh cruel! cruel to thy self! cruel to others? Being hurried into this passion (said Bruadenor) remembring my self I stopt and proceeded thus. "I hope you will pardon this excursion which proceeds from a passion, that usually committeth irregularities, I have no better basis to found my hopes upon for your par­don than your own gentleness, which if it contrary my expectations I must needs accompany you in your precipitation, for I am not able to live tor­mented with disdain.

Whilst many suspirations, gave a period to my discourse, fixing her eyes upon me which pierc'd my heart, she returned me this answer. "I mar­vel not at all at your incredulity concerning Love, for none are able to imagine his power without they feel it, nor believe the relation of others unlesse themselves have experimented it; But I had rather you had re­mained in that condition than feel it to your own sorrow. You know I have made you the depositary of my secrets, and have trusted you with my life and honour. I hope my being in your power will not give birth to any dishonourable suggestion; for be confident my life which I brought [Page 18] to have sacrificed to love, shall be as freely violented to save my honour. Were I capable to reanswer your love, these speeches might be inoffensive, but you must take what I have spoken for a fable, if you think I can hear them without disturbance. You say you crave nothing but pity, but alas, alas! what good will that pity do which is not accompanied with help? If I were capable to help you, I should pity you, pity you, I show I do pity you, and desire your good by desireing and councelling you to sub­vert the structure of this new love, before it be too fast setled, crop this bud before it pullulate too far.

"Account me as a shadow, who am about to pass away, I am leaving not only you but the whole world; what mean you to love that which is going hence? Your courtefie hath obliged my respect, but I shall injury you by my stay, if my presence augment your flames. And doubt not, but if my presence have kindled a fire, that my departure will leave water enough to quench the same.

These words (said Bruadenor) though they were a corasive to my heart, yet pronounc'd with so sweet an accent, that it mitigated the sharpness of them, and were as if vineger and oyl mixt together by love and anger had been given me in a potion to drink. I had time but to tel [...] her that she might assure her self that my life should a thousand times depart my body before I would harbour the least thought prejudiceable to her honour, and not correspondent to the rules of vertue, when my mother entring the place where we were put a stop my speeches and her return. The next day I presented my self armed in her presence, and would not rise off my knees till she permitted me to go my self to find out Subelta, and to be her Advocate, and that I might do some small service for her as the mark of my growing affection, which yet had greater regard to her safety than my own Love. I immediately departed, and to be the less taken notice of, took no company but my Squire, and so went straight to the Santons Countrey.

I travelled without any disturbance, till being almost at my jorneyes end very early in the morning I met three men disguised with a woman behind one of them, whom I judg'd by her tears and lamentations to beforceably born away by those villanies. Though the number were unequal, and the dan­ger I should incur to oppose them, were enough to deter me, yet invited by the lacrymations of the weaker sex, especially when espying me, she implored my assistance, I could do no less than resolve to aid her, though it were to the hazard of my life. Riding up to them I sought with gentle speeches to convince them of an error in which they were resol­ved to persist. Bruadenor (saith one of these disguished ones who had the deplorable creature behind him) thou hadst more need use thy tongue, to save thy self, than perswade us to leave this prize, thou art the only man I desir'd to meet, to render this friend into thy bosome (drawing out his Rapier) that thou mayest acknowledge thy error, when it is too late to repent, the gods propitious to my designes, have put thee into my hands, from which thou shalt not so soon escape. Whilst he uttered those words with a disagreeing tone I had time to draw my weapon, and his fellow-Cam­rades, to disburden his horse of the Subject of our strife. We reiterated our blows with forceable verberations, and with many endeavours wounded one another, at last fortune sending a gentle aura upon my devoirs, with a vigorous thrust which struck into his shoulder bone, I turned him over the crooper of his horse. Whilst his body was precipitating to the earth, one of the other whose soul possest not the least spark of generosity, with a cowardly blow made me feel the like fortune as my opposer. Enraged at this vile usage, receiving no wound through the goodness of my armour under [Page 19] an upper coat, I soon recovered my leggs, and with a thrust passed the other off his horse, who had got the damsel behind him, and before any of them could assail me, with a leap I ascended the horse before her, making him show the nimbleness of his heels to my opposers. He that had not lost his horse pursued me with the like velocity, till we had lost the sight of the other two. Not induring to fly before one, I let the damsel reside the horse, and met my adversary in his carrere, where with many thrusts we sought to end the quarrel by unmortallizing one another. Whilst we pursued our advantages, the last man I had made to kiss the earth reincountred me, both using the utmost of their skill to kill me, but their fury carrying them with­out the guide of reason, made them disreguard all the rules of Art, and gave me many advantages to annoy them. In the mean time he that re­ceived the first fall, though wounded, had recovered his horse, and over­took us, but leaving the other two to decide the quarrel, he seased upon the damsel who stood quaking to see the event. Her screeks gave me notice of her Ravisher, and turning my head aside, I saw, notwithstanding the strugling that affrighted one maid, he had laid her before him upon his horse, and to be assured of his prey, he made a forward fugacity. The de­sire that possest me to rescue the damsel out of that fugitive's tallents, gave me a vigor not ordinary, so that passing and repassing my sword through one of my adversaries, I laid him on the earth to breath his last, and the other fainting sunk from his horse. I made no stay, but pursued the abacted damsel, quickly overtaking the Ravisher, being hindred much by her stri­ving, and the tardiness of his horse onerated with a double burden. "Stay base villane (said I) thou art not so soon escaped the hands of Justice, nor shall thy slight be able to hinder the just vengeance the heavens will inflict upon thee, by my arm, for the wrong done to this damsel. I gave him no liberty to reply, but adding more wounds to his former, I reduc'd him to supply the defect of his vigor with his tears, and with a con­fession of the injury done to the damsel to beg his life at my hands. Af­ter I had taken off his disguisement, I was a little astonisht to find it was Subelta, and straight began a combate between passion and reason, whether to slay or save my Antagonist, but having before freely given him his life, it would have been incompetable with my honour to have required conditi­ons, besides my interest stopped my mouth from speaking for Floria, yet considering what anger it might suscitate in her breast, I left him, and com­ing to the damsel, I desired her to make use of me to conduct her to her habitation: She told me, the eternal obligations with which I had bound her, were not to be solved with the services of a thousand lives, and seeing that I would do her the honour to conduct her home, her condition, with the desire she had to see my wounds cured, made her accept it with an immense gratitude. I repli'd, The service I undertook, my honour and compassion obliged me to, and that I look'd for no other guerdion for my pains than the knowledge how she came into the hands of those Ravishers. After she had given me some direction which way I should take, I mounted her behind me, and whilst we went forward, she said;

Of whom can we expect any worthy and generous actions but of those whose vigor is accompanied with valor, whose valor with honour, and whose honour with vertue? What glory is it to be strong and not valorous? what to be valorous and not honourable? and honourable and not vertuous? therefore he is truly couragious, he is truly valiant who is endued with these three. I have seen the effects of your strength, I am freed by your valour, and have tasted the goodness of your vertue, which extending to help the distressed is an act worthy of perpetual fame. But not to fill your ears with my applause, I will give you the account you desired.

My name is Artesa, I was born in this Countrey, and am daughter to a Lord of a Castle not far distant, our usual abode is at a pleasant place, from whence this night I was ravished, and where by a loss I doubt I am made perpetually miserable, but when I am assured on't, my dayes shall termi­nate with its knowledge. Tears (said Bruadenor) gushing from two lim­pid fountains, at the remembrance of some past evenements, stopped the passage of her words, till two or three forceable suspirations had reclear'd the way: then proceeding. I have been (said she) so unhappy as to be lov'd by that unworthy one whom your valour last overcame, whose name is Subelta Lord of the Redons, if Love can be said to harbour in so Tyrannick a breast, or in one who hath dealt so cruelly not only by me that hateth him, but by a Lady who hath intirely lov'd him, as by his own relation I understood. This Subelta being entertained at the Castle of the Chief Lord of the San­tons, his daughter, the fair Floria (so they call'd her at Rome, which name she hath since kept) fell in love with him. Unworthy wretch dispising her Amoretta's and caresses he put her into an affliction, which produced a sickness that almost cost her her life. He hath often recounted to me the joy he should conceive at her death, that he might be rid of an importunate Suter, and hath recited her endeavours, her caresses, and showen me her letters, which though full of passion, yet also implete with modesty. I have wondred when I saw so evidently her passion for him, that he should despise her and accost me, who am far inferior in birth and beauty, and I ever councell'd him not to let her languish in despair, and forsake the sub­stance for the shadow, using all the perswasive arguments my weak Genius was capable of. But as it is natural for us to despise what's profer'd, and crave what we cannot obtain, so he left a beauty that accosted him, and sought to acquire me who despis'd him. For having before given my heart to ano­ther, (though a stranger, yet one whom I accounted worthy of my love) his allurements could not incite me to relinquish him, nor the illectament of preferment, to be perfideous to my pretendant. When I perceiv'd, if his suit continued, it might put me to much trouble, and if he intended what he said, he might, gaining my father, force me to marry him. I treated him after a vigorous and rough manner, which did but suscitate his ardour of obtaining. I cannot but think (went she on) but that his passion was real, and impos'd upon him by the just deityes for his cruel disdain to Floria, for having recovered her sickness very lately, as she was travelling through a large wood, she was strangely convey'd away with her maid unknown to any of her company, which news so afflicted her father, that he scarce could recover strength to live. At his command the wood was throughly searcht, and in their perquisition, they found some part of the body of Floria's maid, and clothes which had been the reliques of the feast of some fierce animal. Thinking Floria her self had run the like fortune, they returned with part of a cacrase miserably laniated, which spectacle with the conside­ration of his daughters loss, had almost suffocated his vitals, and as yet he remains in a languid condition, in consideration of her detriment. All that knew her, or had but heard of her beauty or vertues, could not but resent her disaster, and plunge themselves into the waves of a just sorrow, this wretch excepted, who told me her misfortune with the Symptomes of Joy. This caus'd me more than ever to hate him, seeing his in­humanity, and to shew him a more severer brow.

His haughty disposition not able to bear my deportments, He addressed him­self to my father, gaining him to make me his wife, if I would consent: Assoon as I understood by my father how Subelta had delt with him to have me, and that he began to perswade me, I had no other way but with my tears to supplicate my mother (who had a great ascendencie over [Page 21] my father) to frustrate the design of Subelta, and not to force me by that marriage to end my dayes miserable. My mother following my interests, obtain'd this boon at the hands of my father. The next time he importun'd my father concerning it, he told him if he could gain my good will, his desires accorded with his request, but his indulgence had made him pro­mise, not to force me to any marriage. Subelta thought himself highly affronted to be denied in that manner, yet hiding it what he could, he sought to acquire me by the great protestations of his affections. But at last his sight being as odious to me, as his company was troublesome, I let him know in very sharp terms how much I hated him, bidding him never ima­gine or think of obtaining me, for he should sooner bring the heavons and earth together than obtain my love, commanding him to avoid my sight. This sudden mordacity st [...]ted my pretendant, rebating his love, it susci­tated his passion, and with a truculent countenance he told me, that ere long I should repent of my peevishness, and be glad to accept of that honour which now I despis'd. In this choler he left our house, threatning what he would do, but the joy for his departure took away the regard of his threats. My Parents considering what an irritated spirit might attempt, were some­thing troubled at his deportments, and blamed me for my temerity. I sent for him whose fidelity had attracted my heart, to make him acquainted with Subelta's deportments, and to enjoy those caresses which the compa­ny of Subelta had impedited. We met (when that silence was spread through the earth, and the bright Goddess held the chief Regency) in a lit­tle grove, into which a back door out of my Chamber opened.

We passed the time in those sweet caresses and pleasances that are enjoyed by Lovers, and are delightfull to those that are entred Loves pleasing bon­dage and servitude. When the night began to wear out her sables, we parted, appointing the time of our next meeting, which I believe was heard by Subetla, who I suppose might be hid in the grove, and heard our dis­courses, for that when he carried me away, he uttered some words which I spake concerning him that night. My thoughts are grounded on this, because this night which is past, being the time I appointed my Confident to meet me, we had no sooner seated our selves in the grove, but that Subelta, and the other two disguised entred upon us. I knew Subelta by his voice, who gave no time for Phineriaz, (so is he termed) to draw his weapon, but with his ready drawn, thrust it through his body. Seeing him fall with a crimson stream slowing from his wound, I gave a sudden screek, and swounded in Su­belta's arms. In that condition they abrepted me, half an hour expiring e're I came to my self again, but when I saw my self in his power whom I hated, carried away from him whom I loved, I am not able to represent the dolor of my soul, but at last breaking the bonds of my silence, "Wicked Subelta! cruel Subelta! (said I) is this the effect of your passi­on? is this the end of your oaths? is this the termination of your affecti­ons? is this love that useth violence? Oh heavens pity my estate, and aid me against this Ravisher! Who would have thought that this treachery could have been acted by him, whom love (as he said) had attracted to my service, whom affection had rendred a slave, and whom oaths had bound to use me with respect? Ah treachery! ah falshood! ah deceit! let not the words of men be credited! Let not this force O Nemesis! pass without thy just resentment, let thy plagues pass upon this Ravisher. And O Vitunus inspire a new soul into that muther'd creature whom Love hath exposed to this wretches villany. Such exclamations as these I uttered, grief making me uncapable to know what I said, nor regard the opprobri­ous speeches Subelta uttered. In this condition proceeded I with these Ravishers till the just heavens helped me by your hands.

At the conclusion of these words said Brua [...]enor, we met certain Gentlemen who were going to seek Artesa, but our incounter put an end to their trouble, and returning together, we soon reached the place from whence she was car­ried, where we met her Parents almost drown'd in grief for her loss. The joy they conceived at her return, gave them no leasure to consider me, till Artesa bid them welcome, the happy instrument of her deliverance, point­ing to me; then turning to me, they rendred many expressions of thanks for what I had done, and immediately applyed things necessary to my wounds.

I remained with them some small time, being respected according to that great service I had done them. Phineriaz remained in that house under the Surgions hand, being very dan [...]erously wounded, but they hoped he would recover it. They could not understand by him how he came so wound­ed, nor how he came there at that time of the night. But I explained the doubt to Artesa's father, representing the great love that was betwixt them, and so far prevailed with him, that he consented to their marriage. This Artesa took as the highest piece of service could be rendred her, and with innumerable thanks sought to express it. Phineriaz conceived no less joy at the knowledge of it, which festinated his recovery, and when I left them eve­ry thing was prepared for their Hymen. Assoon as my wounds were healed, I urg'd my departure, telling them the importunity of my business would admit me no delay. They sought on the other side with all the words of invitation could possibly be rendred to keep me there: And truly their affability and extaordinary Curtesie had gain'd so great ascendancy over me, that it had detained me longer, had not the spur of love pricked me for­ward, for my thoughts were on Floria, my care was for Floria, my fears were for Floria, and all my imaginations were taken up in the considerati­on of Floria, so that it was impossible for me to stay without incurring some inconvenience by my passion. This broke all bands, and made me force my way through their courtesies, for I knew not but Floria hearing of Su­belta's return might go to effect her resolved purpose, which thought made me leave Artesa and the rest, loaded with their Courtises.

Love lent me wings to fly, and accelerated my jorney, whilst desire sent many precursary thoughts to visit Floria, and at last I arrived where long before my imganition had carried me. I soon gave an account to my God­dess of all my past evenements, which I perceiv'd she heard with some con­tent, although she could not but resent the Joy Subelta conceiv'd at her death, and thereby she perceiv'd that the unmortalizing her self before him would work no remorse in his conscience. I saw the excited passion in her breast, and conceiving whence it was suscitated, I aggravated their circumstances, knowing it made well for my interests, and the effect answered my expecta­tions, for it shook the foundations of her Love to Subelta, and rendred me more acceptable in her sight.

In the mean time Subelta enraged at the death of one of his companions, who was a kinsman of his, and at his evil fortune, having recovered those wounds which he received at my hands: he raised a band of men, and be­gan to invade some places under my jurisdiction. I soon heard of his pra­ctises, and for my security began to raise some men for my defence, but he so vigorously proceeded, that he had taken many places ere I could come to oppose him, and arrogantly in the hearing of most of his followers, had vowed my utter destruction: at last with those whom I had hastily gathered together I gave him battle, and by the disfavour of fortune lost most of my men with the victory. This loss hightned the arrogancy of my enemy, who following his good success, won almost all the places of strength from me, and followed me so close, that I could hardly remuster the dispersed, [Page 23] and fill up the bands with more men, but at last I had gained a consider­able body, and was resolved once more to try the hazard of a battel. Flo­ria hearing what passed, though she had attenuated her passion for Subelta, sent him a very kind Letter, desiring him to desist, and not to prosecute me so vigorously when I had sav'd his life. Subelta sent her an answer by the same messenger (which she shewed me) wherein he told her, that the joy he had conceiv'd at his thinking her dead was converted into sorrow at the knowledge of her being alive, and that because she had mentioned, she desired no longer to live, he would become her executioner to rid him­self of such a plague, & that because she had desired him to desist from injuring me, he would double his fury to annoy me & utterly to [...]brute us both. I was a­mazed (said Bruadenor) at the impudency of this man, & it suscitated an extraor­dinary passion of revenge in my breast, hearing the vile speeches his Letter was farced with. But I may bless that Letter, seeing it was the cause that Floria with­drew her love from him, for it excited a generous indignation in her gentle breast, and at length caus'd her to see the unworthinesse of the object she had loved, and to consider me in her thoughts. "Why have I loved Subelta (sayes Floria) with so much fervency, seeing he despises me? why have I loved him with so much verity, seeing he despises me? well I will disregard him, and shake off that love which hath caus'd me so much tor­ment, seeing the gods have given me power to do it. And let me adde (said I) and regard him who loves with so much passion. The smile which she sweetly made shewed she was nothing displeased at my words, which gave me great content, and in my heart I pardoned Subelta all the inju­ry I had conceiv'd against him, seeing this opprobrity had been the cause of my felicity.

The time that I remained in the Castle with her I improved to my best advantage, and before I returned to the camp, she assured me she had no more thoughts for Subelta, biding me to use my best endeavours to over­come my enemie, and to free my self from trouble, and if it lay in her power to pleasure me, I should not fear her performance. This transported me beyond my self, and you may be sure I rendred her thousands of thanks for her benignitie, and assurances of my Loyalty, which induced her to tell me I held the place of Subelta, and that my troubles ended she would accomplish my desires. The vigor wherewith these speeches im­bued my soul, carried me with an ardent desire of fighting to the Camp, where convocating my troops I animated them with my speeches, begetting as great a desire of fighting in them, as I retained in my self, so that not staying for some auxiliaries we rashly encountred our enemies, whose number far exceeded ours. My example made many cowards valiant, and animated those who had any spark of courage in their souls; for Love imbuing me with a kinde of military Phrensie, I so much passed my common vigor, that I wondred at my own actions, and stood amazed at my own force, in e­very place where I went I laid rampiars of dead carcases about me, I often called Subelta by name, but could never find him, for I believe he shun'd incountring me at that time. Neverthelesse my valor could not gain the victory though it a long time hindred them from it, for being o­verpowered we were carried down with the impetuosity of their armes, and the magnanimity of my men chusing [...]ather dying to light, than to she dyin, made it bloody on both sides, but at last being reduced almost to nothin [...], and compassed in on every side, we were fain through the utmost of our strength to force our way through the thickest of their Troops, escaping through the favour of the approaching night. I could impute the losse o [...] this victory to nothing but my own temerity in not staying for those ap­proaching forces, who ignorant of our encounter, fell into their hands and [Page 24] were all dispersed. Seeing my self brought to this calamitie, despaire and shame had almost made me to destroy that life, which the force of all my enemies could not take away. Having lost the victory, I could not have the confidence to invisage Floria, which made me I would not put my self into the Castle, but sent those few which remained to secure it from the attempts of Subelta, knowing its strength to be such, that if their provision lasted, all the power of Subelta could never atchieve it. I sent a Letter to my mother, and to the chief of those who were in the Castle, how they should hold it to the very uttermost against Subelta's force, whilst I went to get aid for their releasment. Subelta was forced to send for men, his loss was so considerable in our last depraeliation, before he could besiege the Castle, so that they fortified it with men, and pretty well stored it with provision before he came to besiege them. In the mean time I sought the Romans to help me against my adversary, who giving me good words, filled me with vain hopes, and made me spend my time when they intended nothing lesse. One who was considerable amongst them taking pitie on me told me that it would be a folly to attend their succours, for that they did not intend in verity to help me, advising me if in any other place I thought I could have help, I should not lose my time in seeking help of them. Perceiving the integrity of the man, I followed his councel, and re­gretting their proceedings, I left them, being necessitated to take shiping, and repair to Africa, where I had an uncle who had great command under the Romans, he with great speed manned four good ships, both with Romans and Barbarians: giving me the conduct, I once more went to try the favour of fortune. We were no sooner engaged in the Ocean, but that impe­tuous storm (which cast you on the Desolate Island) sever'd us, and as if Fortune had swore my overthrow, with imminent danger hurried us along this vast sea. What is become of the other ships I know not, but the storme passed, we endeavoured to proceed, when meeting with the Pyrat I had the honour to free you, and to engage you on my behalf.

Having heard this narration from the Gaul (went on Euripedes) I assu­red him my devoirs should be to do him service, and to resettle him in his former state. He seemed very joyful of my company, and told me his hopes were increased since I had undertook to help him, and that the gods had pre-ordain'd me to be the instrument of all his happiness. Greatly contented with this Gauls company, I passed my time upon the waters, and our ship without any opposition glided over those deeps. At last we passed by the mouth of the river Ligeris, and put in upon the coasts of the Veneti, whereof Bruadenor was Lord. Here we found the ships he had spoken of arrived two or three days before us, and were in great perplexity for Bruadenor, seeing after so impetuous a storm they had so happily met, they raised a hope for their future fortunes, and with great alacrity began their enterprize.

Whilst Bruadenor mustred his men, and gave order for his intendments, I sought a nurse for the infant Fortune had cast into my hands, that be­ing [...]id of that nursery, I might the better imploy my endeavours to his help. I soon found a woman whose child was newly interr'd, with whom I left the child and money for her pains, I reserved a little bracelet which surrounded the childs neck, in which was a remarkable stone, hoping by that (if fortune cast me into their company) to find out the parents of the child, I gave the woman charge to call the child Marinus, which she pro­mised to do, and to take him into the place of her own. Bruadenor having understood by his scouts that the next day Subelta resolved to give an as­sault to the Castle, not as yet understanding of his arrival, he desired not [Page 25] to lose that opportunity of assailing him in the midst of his dispute. For this end we marched all night in by-places, through the help of certaine guides, so secretly that it was not known to Subelta, for those we met we took along with us, that they might not discover us. By day break we came within the sight of the Castle and of our enemies, the morning we spent in sleep to rest our wearied limbs to be the better able to perform our Devoirs, being hid from the sight of our enemies by the umbrage of a Wood.

Assoon as Subelta had begun the assault with much vigor, we attended till they had spent their chief strength against the walls, and the defend­ants, letting them persist till they had throughly wearied themselves; we re­mained spectators. But seeing a gate in danger to be lost by the continual pressure of Subelta, who was signaliz'd from the rest, we gave a signe to our Troops, and all together like an impetuous stream came rushing upon the backs of these assailants. You may imagine whether our unexpected co­ming did not amaze our enemies, and give no less courage to the besieged, seeing succour arrived when they least expected it. The greatness of our slaughter augmented their amatement, and by a sudden vicissitude made them relinquish being assailants, and become defendants. Victory was al­ready seated on our side, and we fought with the greater animosity seeing her on our side. Bruadenor performed wonders seeing the battlements of the Castle graced with his Floria, who with the rest of her sex were mounted the Tarasses to behold the performances of this help. Fear began to scare Subelta's soul, and he manifested his fear by his retreat, for being pressed on all sides they made use of their legs to save their lives. But those with­in the Castle issuing out, we made a general slaughter, Bruadenor seeking for Subelta, with his own hands ended his Tragedy.

Floria having exterminated Subelta the confines her heart, found no in­testine motions at the sight of his death, but giving a good reception to his conqueror, manifested the content she receiv'd by her liberty. They ho­noured me by taking notice of the small service I had done them, and were careful to dresse some wounds which I had receiv'd in the conflict. After their mutual congratulations Bruadenor return'd to give order for to sepu­lize the dead, and to festinate some troops who were going to reduce those places which Subelta had taken, which in short time they effected, redu­cing his Signiory to his pristine state. Having enjoyed some time the con­versation of Floria, I consider'd Bruadenor had not reported amiss of her beauty, nor was the beauty of her wit less graceful than that of her face. I who till then had consider'd women with a constant eye, never saw at­tractions in any face which had power to raise commotions in my heart, (and whilst I enjoy'd that happy liberty, I breathed in the aire of felicity, but after Love had rendred my heart susceptable of his impressions, I found my self bound with the chains of captivity) now perceived by some instinct in nature they were made desirable to men. I had considered them as sha­dows, not so much as desiring, (but rather shunning) their conversation, ad­miring at those men, who bewitched with their attractions, gave them the encomiums of Deities. The conversation of Floria abolisht those thoughts, not that I had any desire or thoughts for her more than any other, but that as praelibations they rendred my heart susceptible for greater flames, and took off the precogitated opinion of the indignity of their sex. That little tyrant of hearts was now resolved to plague me for my contumacy, and as I had accounted them as shadows, to make me love the shadows of them, and because I had disregarded beauty, beauty should cause my disregard. For one day in viewing the several rooms in the Castle which till then I had not seen, I beheld the effigies of a Lady which hung for an ornament [Page 26] in a very fair chamber. The painter to shew the rarenesse of his skill, had with his art so [...]ively imitated nature, that had not the frame disco­vered my error, I had took it for a true substance. The skilful pencil of the workman had given such lively dashes to the eyes, and so sweet a frame to the mouth, that the one seem'd vivacitly to move, whilst the other at­t [...]acted the eyes with a sweet subrision, her hair ty'd up with azure knots seem'd nets to catch love-despising fouls, the structure of that beautiful face was supported with a neck whose alabaster resemblance exhibited no less suavity; but the exhibition of two fair orbs, which were but half [...]i [...] ­covered, gave more attractions than my averse humor could resist. It was very strange to me that the eyes of an inanimate portraiture should beget [...]uch lively sparks in my obdu [...]ate breast, and that a shadow should shew more attractions than I had observ'd in any substance. In my heart (I must confesse) I call'd my self fool, for those emotions which I felt producted by those lovely and lively looks, because it was but a shadow, and it may be delineated from the phancy of some painter, to shew the rarity of his Graphical art. I had lost my self in the contemplation of it, had not Bru­ad [...]nor asked me if it were not well done: seeing they took notice of my observance. I highly prais'd the piece according as it deserv'd; And taking hold on that opportunity, I told them I took great delight in good pictures, which made me take the boldnesse as to entreat them to let it adorn my chamber whilst I was with them. My intreaties and their grants were all one, so that it was immediately transported to my chamber. I forgot not to ask them whether it was the portraiture of any living and of whom. Brua­denor told me he had bought it of a famous Apellean, and that it was the true and lively effigies of Amenia, daughter to Lilibilis, the chief Ruler over the Austures: adding that her beauty had tempted many Romans, but her hatred to that nation would not let her condescend to marry any of them, so that as yet she remained in her Virgin state. This added fuel to my fire, and suscitated more ardent flames for the invisaging this princesse. Finding a pleasant titillation in these thoughts, I began to have a more plausible opinion of the Amorous Deity, and giving scope to my thoughts, I permit­ted them to wander into the Wantons labyrinth.

At the first exhibition of an opportunity I relinquisht the company of Brua [...]enor and Floria, that I might with more freedom contemplate the beauty of Amenia's picture. Having included my self in my chamber, I set that bewitching effigies before me, and with profound considerations beheld all its lineaments. Breaking out in the midst of my silent cogitations, "Ah beauty! (said I) is it possible to resist thy attraction? or to shut our eyes against so fair an object? Can thy venust exhibitions be seen by any, without passion for thy possession? I have been too grand an enemy a­gainst your Soveraignty; but to expiate that crime I will become as much a slave to your greatness. A desirable object! who cannot but adore those lily-intermixed Roses, which expand themselves on thy cheeks? and consider the motion of those bright twinklers in the Astrolabe of a subject­ed mind? which casts as great an influence on the heart of a lover as the coelestial bodies do on terrene substances. Many such ejections were emitted, whilst my thoughts were extended on the object, and whilst my considerations lasted, that Amorous fire burnt my soul, and deeply insculpt­ed the character of Amenia on my heart. Thus whilst love conquered, my liberty was orewhelm'd, and I ran into the foulnesse of love, through the fairness of a picture, and so far introducted through the considerations of that effigies, that it was impossible for me to return into the state I was in, before I saw it. I lost many houres, and I spent much time in viewing and reviewing that delectable object, and I spent much time in viewing and [Page 27] reviewing that delectable object, and truly I made it my daily exercise whilst I was there, sometimes silently to behold it, sometimes passionately to basiate those Rubrick corals which gave so many bewitching attractions, and gave me singular delight in those cold exosculations: sometimes as if I had been infatuated, I made very foolish and impertinent speeches to those surded ears, with as much care as if before the substance of that shadow. It shames me since to remember my follies, and it would shame me more to relate them, had I not undertaken to shew my extravagancies that you may see the folly of these insuls Amoretta's.

But to abbreviate the relations of these follies, I shall only tell you that my soul was so imbrued with that foolishly foolish Love as I was resolved to depart into Spain, to see the substance, of what I had seen in shadow, for having so much lik't the shadow, I should much more like the substance, but most of all, could the love of that substance be acquired. The great de­monstrations of Love, which was shewn me by Bruadenor and Floria, and their ingeminated intreaties to have me at their Hymen was my only Re­mora: for the Loves of Bruadenor and Floria being come to a faire issue they contracted themselves, and resolved with all speed to celebrate their marriage. Bruadenor having sent to Floria's father to acquaint him with the welfare of his daughter, and of her great desire he should accord to her choise, the men returned with Letters from him, which testified his exceeding joy that his daughter was not only alive, but had made choise of one, who in all things surmounted his wishes, assuring them his desires cor­responded with theirs, and had not his age, with fear of disturbancies a­mongst his people in his absence deterr'd him, he had personally shew'd the joy he conceiv'd at the match in the place where they celebrated their Hy­men; Sending to them both many, rich and costly presents, to testifie the good will he bore Bruadenor. You may conceive what joyful newes this was to the hearts of these two lovers, who desired nothing more than the fruition of their nuptial pleasures, which made them accelerate their E­pithalamy, and that it might be more celebrious we removed to Vindana, the chief Town in his Signorie. I was fain to forgo that delectable object which had entertained my eyes, and pleased my phansie, not having confi­dence to request its removal least it might too perspicuously manifest my folly, and it was well reason was not utterly abandoned, considering how deeply I had precipitated my self. I left it with regret enough, and part­ing from it I gave it thousands of deosculations. Whilst we remained in Vindana preparing for Bruadenor and Floria's Himenean triumph, some men whom I had sent to fetch Araterus from the Desolate Island returned, but with no news of him. At first I was sensible of his losse, but Love be­ing like the soporiferous Opium, caused so great Lethefaction, that I re­tained nothing in my memory, but the infarsings of Love. As Opium causeth stupifaction by the abundance of sulphureous spirits which it con­tains, so that agitating fire of Love, causeth oblivion through the intense operation of the faculties of the soul. I might compare my self then to a full vessel, which could not receive any thing because of its plenitude, for having imbibed the delicious draughts of the Dionean youth, it so fill'd my soul that I was not capable to receive any thing else; so that I could not conceive much sorrow for the losse of Araterus at that time.

Vindana was now full of many people who were congregated, some to behold, and others to help at the nuptials, and the day being come, a great deal of pomp was shewn, which was not usual with those (whom the Romans call Barbarians) before their conversation amongst them. After the Ceremonies used according to the fashion of the Romans (to whom [Page 28] Bruadenor was a great friend) many being present, and assistants at the Spousals, made the streets eccho Tallassius. After a very sumptuous feast, wherein Bruad [...]nor shew'd his liberality, every one repaired to a place with­out the town where Bruadenor had caused many solemn playes to be exhi­bited; The Romans being expert in those sports, shew'd wondrous activity in their deportments, both at the races on foot and horseback, and with Chariots, and at their fighting with whirlbats, and at their disgladiateing combats, at all which exercises I was expert in my youth, and therefore I appeared amongst the rest, gaining the honour of the best maintainer of the Hastick sport, and casting of the dart, for which they empaled my brows with the wreathed Palm.

When man hath lost the freedome of his Will, by the captivity of love, how different are his actions from those, before his soul was imbued with that self-distracting fancy? Being in freedome, he hath the liberty to consi­der things without passion to see another look on the same beauty with him­self without envy, and thought of rival-ship, to deport himself with great correspondency to all, to have consideration in his atchievements, and Reason accompanying all his actions. But the seene being altered by Love, his precipitating affection suscitates such passion, that he is not able to consider things as they are, nor see another view that object in which Love interests him without envy, passion, and trouble; making him deport him­self with great incongruity to others, and to fling himself inconsiderately into dangerous precipies, banishing Reason from all his actions. In the one state he is a Prince, in the other a slave, in the one he rules his affections, and masters his passions, in the other his affections guides him, and his passion subdues him, being carried down the violent stream of his desires full of blindness. I speak this (went he on) because I had (before my love­follies) judged those whose Amours had carried them into the like extra­vagances, and now I judge my self to be most egregiously foolish in many unadvised actions. But this hap'ned (which I am about to tell you) which manifested my folly. A little before night there came into the place where these shews were exhibited, a Roman Captain, who had caus'd Amenia's picture to be painted on his Buckler. Assoon as I had cast my eye upon it, I knew the portraiture, by the resemblance it had to that which I had seen in Bruadenors Castle. Love fill'd me with jealousies, and jealousies with envy, so that I found a great combustion within me at the sight of this simulacre. I immediately took him for my Rival, and that s [...]in'd up a desire of obtaining that sheld, wherein I thought I might greatly content my self in having that precious object alwayes with me. These cogitations suscitated a desire of g [...]tting, but considered not the danger of atchieving: But Love that animates the heart to any bold action, made me resolve to attacque him, and how dear so ever it cost me to obtain it. Whilst I entertain'd many projects for the obtaining of my desire, I perceiv'd him to leave the com­pany, and to ride away, marking the way he rode, I abruptly left Bru­adenor, and taking one of his Coursers followed him with speed. Assoon as I had overtaken him, I asked him whether that beauty was exposed to sale, seeing he so openly exhibited it to vulgar eyes. This Quirinan sudden­ly answered, that the purchase was the last drop of blood that could be ex­tracted from the desirer. I replyed that so exquisite a beauty deserv'd no less, however I told him, if he would give it me as a gift, I would gratifie him with all the power I was able, if not, I was resolved to expose my life for the obtaining of it, and that I had purposely followed him for that end. I am not (re [...]lyed he) unwilling to hazard my life in the defence of this effigies, and shall more willingly sacrifice it, than cede to your unjust pre­tensions. Our swords were immediately unsheathed, and our words were [Page 29] turned to blows, his in the just defence of his own; mine in the unjust prosecuting my desires, I sought by offending illegally to take away his right, he sought by defending legally to keep his own; he shewed valour by defending, I cowardize by attempting. It shamed me to think that I, who should (following the precepts of vertue) have spent the utmost of my vi­gor in maintaining Legality, should (following the dictates of vice) spend the utmost of my strength in performing an illegal action. This considera­tion somewhat rebated the edge of my fury, with his exposing that effigies against the edge of my sword, which like a Medusa's head stifned my arm; so that I had not power to hurt my adversary for fear of impairing, or hurting that Image; such absurd ceremonies had that infatuating Love impos'd upon me, as to observe so much reverence to a shadow, to the imminent danger of my life.

We were but in the praeludium of our combate, when there arrived a Gaul, whole valor against the Romans was well known. This Gaul had received some disgrace by me in the exercises that day, which it seems had stir'd up a revenge, and for that cause he had watcht my actions for an opportunity of effecting it. He took notice of my departure, and therefore followed me, but finding me already engag'd, he harbored not so much of the Coward, as to help my adversary, nor yet could his eager revenge be content another should punish me. Coming near us he drew his sword, and directing his speech to my adversary, Remit this combate (said he) and be a Spectator a while, and you shall see your enemy punisht without your pains, for your pretensions nor desires can be so great as mine to fight this opposer. What­soever your pretentions or desires are (reply'd the Roman) I think my self able to afflict a punishment on him as your self, nor will I be so much a Coward to leave a combate begun, and see another finish it, if I have the fortune to slay him, you may be satisfied, if he kills me you may then en­counter him. The Gauls hatred to the Romans was the cause he was so extra­ordinary moved, for very furiously both with words and blows he reply'd, Seeing with a fair remittance you will not give me leave to fight another, being both enemies a like to me, I will attacque you both. The thunder of his blows took away the sound of the rest of his words, and engag'd us both to a discreet defence against so sudden an assault, for sometimes he spent his vigor on the Roman, and sometimes I sustained the fury of his strooks. I unwilling to give over my first combatant, sometimes gave him many reiterated strooks, and sometimes to oppose the Gauls furie, I was fain to deal my blows upon him. The Roman sometimes opposed the Gaul, and sometimes requited me with the like I gave. In this confused strife each had two adversaries, and peril attended our promiscuous encoun­ter, for the rules of art could not be displayed in that confusion. We had all of us receiv'd some wounds, and were very hot in receiving and giving of more, when Bruadenor ariv'd with three or four Gentlemen with him, who having missed me, and by enquiry understood of my departure, imagined some duel, and being very carefull of my well-fare, he came himself to seek me: As he arrived, I had dismounted the Roman, and seizing on his buckler, I rent it from his arm: having the possession of it, I affresh op­posed the Gaul, but Bruadenor's arrival put a period to our treble encounter. The nights sable mantles beginning to display themselves, caus'd us to re­treat, and leave my Contenders there, having first understood of the Gaul wherein I had offended him; I shew'd Bruadenor the cause and manner of our sight, yet so that he understood not the great affection I bore to Amenia, or of my folly in getting the shield.

My noble entertainer as soon as we were returned had regard to my wounds which were inconsiderable, and could not detian me from exercising my self in those masks which were performed that night, and which deter'd Brua­denor [Page 30] those wished pleasures till almost morning, but the better part of the next day made him amends for the nights injury. These nuptial joyes be­ing finished, and Bruadenor about to return to his Castle with his Floria, I renewed my suit for my departure, desiring him not to deter me any longer with his intreaties. The regret he shewed for my departure manifested the love he bore me, but seeing it was impossible to keep me any longer, he was constrained to submit to this severation. He supply'd my want of a Horse with one of the best he had: and for my better defence made me clothe my self with some of his surest harness. I had a thousand Eulogies be­stowed upon me by this kind friend and his fair bride, who distil'd some pearly tears at my departure. After I had left them, I directed my course to­wards Spain; Amenia's beauty having the Magnetick vertue of attraction, for she was the Pole-star to which I turn'd. It was now the midst of Summer, and Titans Aethon gave his greatest ardout, so that I much frequented the shades, and made my jorney through the thickest woods, being glad of the benefit of the shadow-casting trees. I had passed two dayes in my journey without any adventure, but the third being entred a wood, whose umbrage gave some re­frigeration, I slackned my pace, and seeing a fair tree, whose branches being spread with broad leaves, and so thick that it denied entrance to Phaebus, made an opacous dormitory on the verdant grass; Being invited by some desire of rest, I descended my horse, and tying him to a shrub, gave him the liberty to crop the grass, whilst sleepy Somnus cast me into a repose. I had not slept long under those cooling shades, but the sudden neying of my horse awaked me, doing me a greater pleasure then that of Dariu's did him when he was chosen King, for I found the naked sword of my irritated Roman ready to light upon my undefended head. Fear of so sudden danger made me forget my wonted ceremonies, for I was forc't to take my adored buckler, and hide my head which sustained the blow, that else had perpetrated my life. I gave him no time to strike a second, but rising with that agility which my present danger requir'd, I immediately drew for my de­fence. "Coward (said I) unworthy the name of a Roman, I had not thought thy degenerated soul would have done so base an action, but thy pusilla­nimous heart feared to see me waking. He answered not but with his blows, whilst I gave him more than he desired, my extream anger at the base­ness of his action made me do my best to kill him: his skill had not sav'd his life, nor had my passion spar'd it, had he not (being brought to the last exigent) begg'd it with many words. I was ever apt to forgive, and letting him rise, I told him the consequencies of such treacherous actions were alwayes contempt, infamy, scorn, disregard, and revenge both from gods and men, on such as use them. He told me how persevering he had been in watching for such an opportunity, having vowed to sacrifice my life to his just resentments, but he then swore ne're to seek my hurt any more, forgiving the injury I had done him in taking away his shield, being I had spar'd his life.

This evenement being past, I prosecuted my journey, and at last without any other adventure worth our observance, I drew near Spain. I presently heard of the war that was made against the Austurians, Cantabrians and Gallicians which made me hasten my jorney, desiring to help them for Amenia's sake. For a more speedy passage, I cast my self into the arms of the sea, and with prosperous gales arrived amongst the Austures. I hasted to Austurica hoping to gain a sight of that fair one whose▪ shadow had already made me her captive. Enquiring for Lilibilis I understood he was then in Austurica, intending with all speed to appear at the Randezvouze with some auxiliary troops that he had raised. This Lilibilis was a valiant person, and honest enough, only he lov'd to rob, and spoil his Neighbours with war, which was the general fault of those Lusitanians, but now joyn'd [Page 31] together against the Romans. I resolved to prosecute my intendments, and as soon as I came to Austurica I enquired for Lilibilis, and being brought before him, "I told him the great desire I had to do him service in those wars had brought me to Austurica; and how that I accounted it as great a glory to oppose the rising power of the Romans, as I should have accounted it a shame for me to have oppos'd them in the defence of their just liberties. I said I was a stranger, and interess'd in neither Nation, only a desire of glory and honour made me so voluntarily offer him my service; I bid him reward me according to my deserts, and make me happy by re­garding me as his servant. And shewing him the Shield with his daughters portraiture, "I further told him, the impudency of a Roman Captain his ene­my in bearing that portraiture, had caus'd me to make him surrender it for the save-guard of his life, that I might pre [...]ent it to the Princesse his daughter, avowing none worthy the glory of carrying her [...]ffigies without her leave. Lilibilis received me with great kindness and civi [...]ity, and told me, he gathered a happy Augury, and hoped the gods would be propitious to his Armies, since they had sent strangers to own his Cause, which was for the liberty of his Countrey against the pride of a potent enemy. And that he should endeavour for encouragement to others to reanswer such merits. Many other generous words he uttered which shewed that ability which ac­companied his Lordship, but at last that which I most lookt for and desired he told me, "that immediately I should go and present the shield to his daugh­ter, which he knew would be welcome in regard of her great hatred to the Romans. Immediately a maid of hers, who of all others was most deare to Amenia, gave her notice of my arrival, and of the passages betwixt Lilibilis and I; and set me out extraordinarily more than I deserv'd, that Amenia prepar'd her self to give me a good reception. What I shall tell you (says Euripides) concerning Amenia, of those things which were done unknown to me then, she afterwards related to me when the bonds of Hymen had bound us together, however I relate it now, which otherwise would make the story lame. Many beauties desire to captivate, although they intend no favours to their slaves, and 'tis a general humour in women to desire to be esteemed, and to see others lives depend upon their wills, that they may tyrannize over their captivated hearts; and the more a man is esteem'd the more they desire to have him subject to themselves. Amenia was not alto­gether free from this vain-glorious humour, for, consulting with her glasse, she sought to illustrate those attractions, which without any adornments were able to captivate, and least of all had she needed it for me, who was before captivated by the dim lustre of her shadow. Whilst Lilibilis conducted me into a garden wherein were many arbours, Amenia following, convey'd her self into one of those shadowy places, and viewing me through the leaves considered my dimensions. Those small attractions (which age now hath consumed) that then accompanied me, made her spend some time in that umbratick intuition. Love who is most commonly in a swift motion found an entrance through those verdant windowes, and taking possession of those open gates which give entrance to the heart, he soon descended into the more intrinsecal parts of that fair structure. For the eyes being the chiefe advantages of Cythera's son, he there makes his occult entrance, and having gain'd the Fort afterwards playes the tyrant. This Quiver-bearing god ha­ving wounded us both with his golden dart, made very much for my advan­tage, for if I seem'd any thing hansom, he presently exihibited it through a multiplying glass, and made the least mole-hill of parts swell to a mountaine of perfection. So that whatsoever my actions were, in her eyes they were altogether compleat. After some time she left the Arbour, and being sent for by Lilibilis she approached us. We know some little grace in a face [Page 32] otherwise not very taking, gives some attractions according to the smalness of its measure, but a face beautifi'd with due symmetry, colour, and lively eye, is a far greater charm, and gives more vigorous attractions: But what un­utterable delight is there in beholding a face, wherein nature with a prodi­gal hand hath bestowed thousands of fascinating attractions? and to shew her curious skill depainted those flourishing colours that 'tis impossible for art to immitate. If I found such attractions in her inanimate effigies, you can­not but conceive me ravished from my self at her sight, that passed her shadow by thousands of degrees.

You are not able to conceive, nor I to utter, the ravishing content I took in beholding that approaching glory: my eyes stedfastly fixing themselves on her, gave the victory to the blushing roses in her cheeks. The suscitati­on of that incomparable virmilion added new lustre to her former splen­dour. Not forgetting my self I did her reverence, and setting one knee to the ground. "Madam (said I) I have taken the boldness to present you your own shadow, having rescued it out of the hands of an unworthy Roman. I did not think it fit an enemy should carry it as a trophie of his victory, though I believe himself was subject to the image. Had he had your consent for the favour, I should have accounted it a sacriledge to have rob'd him; but knowing the contrary by himself, I thought it your right and not his. I therefore humbly lay it at your feet, and implore your par­don for this presumption. I ended with a profound reverence, when she reply'd, extending her hand to raise me up. "Sir, the Romans, who seek to usurp our Liberties, and hope to subject us to the yoke of servitude, are so odious in my eyes, that I account the taking away this shield no small obligement, and shall accept of it with thanks. Here Lilibilis told Amenia that she should do better to return it me for my defence, since I intended to serve him in the Wars against her enemies, and that it was great reason since I had won it so fairly, that I should wear it by her favour and permission, under the notion of her champion. These favourable words ravisht me; Ame [...]ia blushing, and looking on her father, said, Sir, since 'tis your com­mand I must obey: turning to me, To you Sir is this due, both by your own valour and my gift. I receiv'd it with that joy cannot be express'd, kissing her fair hand, which injected new flames into my breast, I rose up with a satisfaction as ample as my wishes. We returned into his Palace, my eyes following the attraction of Amenia, and feeding, nay almost surfeting on that delicious object. My content was but short, for the next day we departed with those new Auxiliaries, hearing that Caesar approached the body of our Army. Amenia gave a pleasing mine all the time I was in her pre­sence. She might have read by sad deportments with what regret I left her company, and she found her self toucht with no ordinary pensiveness at my departure. Lilibilis assigned me a command in those new rais'd forces, trusting much to my fidelitie. There was to have been a general Rendez­vouse of the Austures, Gallicians and Cantabrians, but Augustus who came himself into Spain to make a finall conquest of that countrey which had cost Rome so much blood and treasure, had divided his Army, and sent part a­gainst the Catabrians, and part against the Gallicians, and the other re­main'd to oppose us. Lilibilis being a good Captain, performed every thing requisite thereto. I shall not (proceeds Euripides) relate the cir­cumstances and encounters in this War, but give you a brief relation of the success as far as it appertains to this relation concerning my self. The War was vigorusly followed on both sides, and Caesar found it full of trouble and difficulty, and his opposers resolute men, fighting for that Liberty which as yet they had not lost. The Cantabrians and Gallicians on each side of us, did many brave exploits, which animated our Austures [Page 33] to exhibit the like valour. When Caesar had the better, those impregnable bulworks fram'd by nature hindred his pursuit, for our men acquainted with the wayes, could enter those precipices without danger, where if the Romans sought to follow, they were either taken in some ambushment, or swallowed a­live into unreturnable Caverns. We had divers conflicts with Caesar, where to get a fame I oft times ran most imminent danger, and received many smart­ing wounds. However I gain'd that I sought for, and I was known to both the Camps. Lilibilis daily professing new testimonies of his Love for the services I did him. The shield whereon Amenia was portrai'd I still car­ried as an Ensign of glory. I had caused a fine thin plate, which stood hollow from the shield, and cut all over in fine works, to be nail'd on it, which sav'd it from the swords of the Romans, and yet exhibited her effi­gies through the gravings. Oft times when any small truce was be­twixt us, Love and vain glory caus'd me to challenge the Romans, and to perform many a single duel against some of their chiefest Champions. Lilibilis sought to hinder this, professing that in my losse he should finde his ove [...]throw, but his repression caus'd a greater pugnacity. One mans stren [...]th is nothing to the overthrow of an army, but by his example so great animosity may be kindled in the breasts of his followers, that they may subdue, when otherwise without that exemplary courage they might have prov'd the miserable fortune of losing the victory. I will not glory in my own actions, but the desire that I had that my fame might resound in Amenia's ears, caus'd me with so great animosity to break into the troops of my enemies, that giving life and courage to the Austures, I oft times enforc't them to a victory, and by my example gave puissance to their arms. It was a reasonable encounter, when chusing out a hundred of the chiefest of Lilibilis's Camp, we attacqued a thousand of the Romans well appointed, and put them to a shameful flight; which extreamly irritated Caesar to see his Eagles flie backwards, but neither his anger nor endeavours could re­cover the losse, nor save his men from a miserable slaughter. These acti­ons of mine carried on with prosperous successes, rendred me another Han­nibal amongst the Austu [...]es, Lilibilis giving me more Encomiums than my mo­desty could receive. That speedy Herald Fame still echoed my actions in Amenia's ears, and an action was no sooner done in the field than known in Austurica. I shall let pass the honour I receiv'd from Lilibilis, the Love from the rest of the commanders, the encomiums of the souldiers, and the general applauses from all the Iberians, and tell you, Winter being far entred, and Caes [...]r having withdrawn his Troops, falling at that instant sick, as we thought for his ill success, we returned to Austurica, where under triumphal arches they made me enter the City, seeking for new honours to expre [...]s their gratitude.

Amenia carried the sure testimonies of joy for my return in her counte­nance, and with a very pleasing language gave me thanks for my services; my content was unexpressable at the reinvisaging those lamps which had kindled the ardours in my soul, and the kissing those fair hands infus'd new vigor into all my limbs. I did believe my actions could not be so lively re­presented to her ears, as to beget that affection, which was possible for the intuition of them to have done. This suscitated a desire to she [...] some feats of activity in her sight, that her eyes might be witnesses of my strength and agility. The next day I told Lilibilis that it would not be amisse to exhibit some publick rejoycings for our good successes, thereby manifestin [...] to the world the little fear we had of the Romans. He was very well pleas'd with the motion, and referr'd the ordering of it to my self. I immediately caus'd every thing to be prepared against a time which I had prefixed, and published a running a Tilt in the City. Whilst every thing was preparing [Page 34] for these sports, I gave continual assaults to that specious fort with my eyes, not daring as yet to come so near as to prove its strength with the engine of my tongue, for fear of a repulse, and losing that ground I had gain'd, not knowing the desire my amiable enemy had for an assault, that the Fort might be rendred with honour. Those favours she shew'd me were with so great discretion, that I could not distinguish whether she favoured me as a Lover, or for those services I had done her father, for those shots which went from my eyes, could not but declare me an amorous foe. Neither could I perceive that she manifested any more signes of Love than Clotuthe Lilibilis's wife, who was a young Lady, and married to him since the death of Amenia's mother, and indeed too young for his years. My designs being nothing but what were truly honourable, I resolved after those publick pastimes to exhibit my passion with a more apert language than that of the eyes. Euripides was about to proceed, not minding the stealing a­way of the time, when one whose misfortunes had made a companion to him in his solitary life, came into the Grove to look him, but unexpectedly finding a Cavalier with him in discourse, was about to return, had not Euripedes espying him desired him not to descede. "I could not imagin (said he being come near Euripedes) what should detain you longer than your usual musings, the consideration that you were yet fasting, and the after­noon far entred made me come to seek you, not thinking fortune would have brought me so abruptly to trouble your discourse with this Cavaliere. I believe (said Euripedes) that you have done him a pleasure, for I lackt a remembrancer being entred into the discourse of my life (which you are acquainted with) and truly not denoting the elaption of the time, I might have entertain'd him yet longer with it, and it may be to the tryal of his patience. I beseech you, said Argelois, think not that I am weary of your discourse, for if you studied to do me the greatest injury in the world, you could not find a greater than to debar me of the content I receive in the audition of your fortunes; for my diligent hearkning to the relation of your life, gave me no time to reflect on my own miseries, and I did not think anothers relation could have eas'd my passion. I should im­portune you to continue your story at this time, did not the remembrance of your fasting rather cause me to desire you to forbear, till a fitter oppor­tunity, wherein you may better continue your discourse. Euripedes fol­lowing his advice, having prevailed with Argelois to accompany them, returned all three through those pleasant shades to his grott.

The Continuation of the HISTORY OF EVRIPEDES.

THE day being come wherein I was resolved to exercise the Trojan sports, I gave order for the erecting of certain Scaffolds in the Cata­drome, for the benefit of the noblest Spectators. Every thing being prepared, Lilibilis and Clotuthe, with Amenia mounted one of the Scaffolds, and seated themselves under a Canopy purposely erected for them, on the other Scaffolds were seated the chief men in the Signiory under Lilibilis, who held the place of a great Prince. Austerica being almost emptied, old, young, rich and poor, men, women, and the youth, filled up the out­sides of the lists, all desiring to see these sports that were not usual amongst them. I had chosen out a hundred of the ablest, and best accomplisht men in Lilibili's Army, and dividing them to fifty on a side, we resolved to exhibit the form of a battle, having armour from the head to the foot, [Page 37] with blunted spears, and rebated swords. Assoon as the Spectators had seated themselves, and one by Lilibili's order proclaimed silence to stop the mur­mure of the people, we enter'd the lists, each company at several gates, having scarfs on our arms of several colours to distinguish one from the other, when that we should close together. The Captain of the adverse party was one whose valor had rendred the strongest and ablest in Lilibili's Army, in the eyes of all others, and had given notable proofs of it against the Romans. Being placed ready for our first course, the Trumpets gave us the signal to charge. The place being spacious, we met with a most vio­lent shock, and the noise that the breaking of the staves, with the ratling of the armour made, seem'd an exact Counterfeit of great Joves tonation. Almost half of each party kist the earth at this carreer; it fortuned that I gained the better of my adversary the other Captain, by unhorsing him, al­though in truth his encounter was so considerable, that I lackt but little of the same fortune. I immediatly cast my eyes upon the fair Amenia to fetch new vigor, and seeing she observed my actions, it inflam'd me to my advantage, and the secret operation of her beauty, now illustrated with a mighty splendor, so elevated my spirits, that if all the company had been to encounter me with sharp weapons, they seem'd too small in my eyes to raise my self any glory by their conquest, before one so superex­celling in beauty. Those that were dismounted soon gain'd their horses, and drawing our rebated weapons, we furiously assaulted each other, glory causing us as if we had been mortal enemies to endeavour each others over­throw. The first charge was with so much animosity, that many felt shrode brushes, though they were not cut because of the hebetude of our weapons. My greatest ambition was to gain a gracious aspect from Amenia, for I car'd not if all Spectators had been absent besides her self, and that ambi­tion was enough to induce me to actions truly glorious; those that never had a Mistriss, can never tell what it is to perform any thing in her sight, the intuition of parents, kindred, or friends contributes great animosity to a Combatant, but the eyes of a Mistriss makes him do wonders; I confess she made me glorous by contributing vigor for the performance of those actions, which had else been impossible for me to atchieve. Our encoun­ter was in jest, and friends and brothers oppos'd each other, but when that every one was throughly heated, the desire of glory made them forget the remembrance of friends; and the animosity and great vigor wherewith they prosecuted each other, exhibited them as mortal foes, and had they not had obtused swords, I think all had dyed in the encounter; I was sorry I had begun it when I saw with what vigor they prosecuted it, and yet my self gave them example, but at last the blew scarfs, (which was the signal of my men) had gain'd the better, most of the yellow, our opposers, be­ing humbled on the ground with bruses as bad as wounds which enter the flesh. At last we perfected our Conquest, and had the glory of the victory accompanied with great shouts and complaudings of the people. Lilibilis took great content in our performances, and applauded those that had done well. My actions which were particulariz'd by Amenia, wrought as I could desire on so gentle a soul, and the means did not frustrate my hopes, I cannot say it be­got, but it augmented those flames she cherisht for my sake, and preserved those inclinations she had to me from all thoughts of a future change. Clo­tuthe in the time of our sportive combate (as Amenia afterwards told me) denoting my actions with a partial eye, passed extraordinary praises in my behalf, the which did but the more sufflate her flames to whom she uttered them, she accounting them but as due to my merits, perceived not the others inclinations in the uttering them, nor could she have been justificable, if she had had any thoughts of her, that had such ties to the contrary.

Lilibilis, the Ladies, the Captains, and generally all the people expres­sed the great content and pleasure they had taken in this exhibition, by their applauses, shouts, joy, and praises, extolling those that had signaliz'd them­selves by their notified actions, even to the very skies. After the maintain­ers of this sport were departed with knocks, falls, bruises, some lame, most receiving some hurt or other, I went to Lilibilis, where I received precomiums befitting his accomplishments not my merits, But when I un­derstood the content Amenia had taken in the sight of these small per­formances, ordain'd purposely for her sake, I sought to continue them, and therefore begg'd Lilibilis to authorize those sports a day or two more with his presence. I found him not difficult in granting a thing he desir'd, which made him give notice of their continuance. The next day the place being fill'd as the day before, I entred the lists, armed with a flame coloured armour, the lower part seem'd like glowing coales, whose flames compass'd my whole body, and many rich stones artificially placed seem'd the sparks which proceed from the fire, my Cask was covered with a plume of feathers arising like smoke out of those flames, and falling in curles ve­ry near the colour of smoke, made the flames seem more to the life. At a distance they thought a flame of fire had entred the place, but managing my courser to the upper end of the lists, I did obesance to Lilibilis and the Ladies, placing my self ready to receive those who would oppose me. I had ordered this single running with spears, that those whose actions were wor­thy that glory might the better be denoted by Amenia and all the rest of the spectators. There was some distance of time after I was entred the lists before any presented themselves, which I employed in the intuition of Ame­nia, who seem'd like fair Cinthia [...] amongst the lesser lights, I left no part of those exhibited perfections free from a contemplation, which would have lasted much longer, had not the trumpets given notice of one who entering the lists awaited my coming. At the second encounter I laid a foundation to my glory by his fall. I will pass over the particular actions of that day, as not much to the purpose, and only tell you, the gods gra­ciously favouring me with the helping vigor infused into my soul, by the beauty and sight of Amenia, so far enabled me that I erected a trophie of glory to my self by the fall of all those who encountred me that day. The next day was to be imployed in the same exercises, which gave a great con­tent to the spectators, and raised my glory with thousands of applauses, but I must truly tell you I affected none but those of Amenia, which were as many and as great as could be expected from one of her quality, and great modesty. But Clotuthe gave me such encomiums, doing me so great favours, that I blushed, and partly repented that I had done any thing whereby they might have any cause to attribute that to me, which I knew my merits did not deserve. Clotuthe studied occasions to hold me in discourse, gave me a very pleasing mine, put forth many ambiguous and quaint expressions, passed many amiable looks upon me, and sought all oc­casions of doing me any pleasure, more than ever I perceiv'd her to do be­fore, but my opinion of her great virtue made me passe favourable inter­pretations on all her actions, and thought those unusuall favours pro­ceeded from the content she received in the sports exhibited by my meanes.

That night (as I understood afterwards from Amenia her self) when that every one was retired to their rest, A [...]enia whose fire augmented by my performances, was now come to so great height, that she thought she should have been consumed with its ardour, and setching a sigh said within her self. 'Ah Euripedes, what need so many testimonies of thy valor be exhibited, unless thy design be to captivate all those, & render them thy slaves that shall behold [Page 39] thy actions? thy features and virtues are sufficient, you need not have de­monstrated your valor to have compleated your conquest.

'Euripedes looking upon Argelois, I would willingly (said he with a different tone) omit these or any other passages, where speaking of my self I might seem vain-glorious by the relation, could I perswade my self that I might be faithful in the progression, or you pleas'd with the omissi­on. And truly it is so much against my humour, that I find more avers­ness in the recounting any such passage, than I should by permitting it to remain in silence. Besides I fear Lonoxia would accuse me of infidelitie, being well acquainted with my relation, if I should omit any thing, and make me a transgressor of my promise, if I faile of an intire relation, at least of what I can remember; and if any other besides my self could give you the narration of my life, I should have remitted it to them, being a thing contrary to all that have any thing of pudor or virtue in them, to relate any action or performance of glory, or magnanimitie of themselves; and very difficult to perform it without a seeming elation in the eyes of others. I beseech you (replyed Argelois) omit not any thing for these considera­tions, your modesty too much hides those actions which conduce to your glory, which is much eclipsed by your own relation, but I pray you to pro­ceed, and be not interrupted any more with these thoughts, for I take extream delight in hearing the passages of your Amoretta's, and were it not for the trouble I put you to in the relation, I should not care how long you entertain'd me with this discourse. I account it no trouble (answer'd Eu­ripedes) but I finde a great content in that I think you take any pleasure in the recital of my fortunes; I am more prolix in the relation of these first Amoretta's in that they were my more fortunate adventures, and in which I found great delight, than I intend to be in those which were the cause of my miseries; but to leave this digression, I will proceed with what brevity I may, not doing injury to my story.

Those words which had not passage through her lips, were accompanied with many suspirations, which made Melanthe (one that attended her, and whom Amenia lov'd extreamly) who lay in a pallet in the chamber, think that she had not been well, and therefore rising out of her bed, took a ta­per which burn'd upon a side Table, and approached her bed side. Her sudden coming surpris'd her in her tears, and suscitated through a femi­nine pudor, a blush which adorned those cheeks on which those little [...]i­volets had found a passage, from the clear fountains of her eyes: And be­ing unwilling to be taken notice of, (though it were by her that she trusted with all her secrets) in an action that she judg'd criminal, she hid her face with the corner of the sheet, and gave Melanthe leave to think it might be to avoid the annoyance of the light of the Taper. But Melanthe being sensible of that grief which she saw appear through her mistresses eyes, and heard, by those ardent suspirations, which in abundance proceeded from a most inward trouble, she fell upon her knees by her bed side, and began with the most mollifying and attracting expressions, to draw from her the cause of her dolor. She seeing her still answer her but with silence, and a few sobs, which were not recalm'd since their first suscitation, 'Madam (went she on) your silence to my implorations makes me think that I am criminal, and seems to accuse me to have committed some unknown offence, which may have suscitated these tears, and been the cause of this pregravation. Madam, if it be so, if I have offended, though I am not conscious to the least known or wilful offence, let me but know wherein, and you shall see me exact a most just and vigorous punishment from my self, for the least offence that may have any wayes disturbed your repose, if you will not let me know wherein I have offended, I will punish my [Page 40] self at all adventures in that I am not able to see these tears, and think my self the cause, without a resentment that punisheth my soul with unutterable afflictions. Whilst she stopt to wipe away some tears from her eyes, which her Ladys had begot, Amenia discovering her face,'Melanthe (said she) thou hast no wayes offended me, nor art thou guilty of these tears, unless it be in telling me thou wilt inflict a punishment upon thy self, not considering that in so doing thou wouldst afflict me, speak no more of thy offeding, those tears proceed from a farre different cause. Madam (replyed Melanthe truly afflicted for her Mistris) if I have not offended, as I ought to believe since you have spoken it, why seem you to accuse me of infidelity, in making me so great a stranger to your thoughts? since you have formerly honour'd me by communicating them to me; this argues that my disloyalty, hath caused you to lessen your affections, and withdraw those favours you have honour'd me with, in denying me the knowledge of an affliction, either out of a thought of distrust, or that you now begin to hide your self from me. I prosess, Madam, I desire not to know the least of your minde out of any curiosity, but out of a desire I have, and that I think my self capable, to serve you, which when I shall cease to be, I shall not desire to be acquainted with them; But let not any thought of my infidelity withhold you from making me the deposi­tary of your secrets, for if all the oaths and vowes that may be made, can oblige you to believe me, you shall have them, if you say you dare trust me, why do you withhold this from me? if you dare not, why do you suffer me so near you? no no banish this wretch from your presence, since you dare not trust her, and take one whose fidelity may oblige you to do them that honour, since mine cannot, and though the gods destiny that I shall not live in your service, they shall know they gave me not life with­out courage to sacrifice it to you, which shall expiate those crimes, which deterr'd me the happiness of being your confident. Amenia conjur'd by this manifest testimony of her affection, and by those tears which she shed in abundance, but especially by that love which she alwayes bore her, could not refraine laying aside the punctillioes of a Mistris, and clasping her armes about her neck, 'No, no Melanthe (said she) it is not any di­strust of thy fidelity, nor the lessening that affection which I ever have born thee, and shall still continue, that makes me thus unwilling to discover my self to thee, it is pudicity that ought to accompany such as I am, and these tears are to delave a crime I can neither own, nor clear my self of; and a passion which I am not able to decusse, nor would willingly enter­tain. After a little respite, thou shalt see (went she on) what confi­fidence I repose in thy fideliiy, and how intirely I love thee, in lay­ing open my weakness, my frailty, and my infirmities to thee, and con­fess that which pudicity makes me so lougth to own. I put more than my life into thy hands, I commit to thee my honour and my reputation, and tell thee that which I cannot think on, without the imputation of a crime. Set away that candle Melanthe that will discover those blushes which will be essential to my discourse. Melanthe obeying her, I cannot (continued she) finde words apt to tell thee my egritude, and thou canst not think with what reluctancy I am forced to acknowledge that which I cannot disown. Thou hast been acquainted with all the actions of my life thou hast known how far both the Romans and Iberians have sought to intrude upon my liberty, and thou hast known with what constancy I have kept it, when others have yielded to those disquisitors. But that which with so much care I have hitherto preserv'd, is now insensibly lost; and yielded to this stranger without seeking, which I have obstinately de­ny'd all sutors. Dost not thou wonder Melanthe to hear me confesse this? [Page 41] and canst thou blame me for being so loth to utter it? I have supprest it long enough, but through its depression it hath rais'd its flames; I have found the disturbance of my former repose ever since the first sight of this stranger, but I thought my former constancy might have been able to extinguish them. It is not the loss of a repose dearer to me than my life, that can give me so much cause of trouble, as the crime I commit in lo­ving one who it may be hath not the least inclination for me. O foolish! O simple and weak Amenia, hast thou confest thy self in love? couldst not thou have dyed with a resentment so powerful, and have manifested by thy wonted constancy, that thou hadst been able to have conquer'd all things, and made that tyrant god to have confest he had kill'd thee, but not conquer'd thee? but that thou must with the follies of thy tongue confesse those of thy heart. O thief! to rob me of a liberty so dear and precious to me: O tyrant! to torment me worser than with the pangs of death, in making me confesse I love, and with a passion uncurable but by death. What sayest thou, Melanthe, I have told thee my disease? knowst thou any cure for the Idalian fire? dost not thou reprehend me? dost not thou blame me, for entertaining that which was impossible for me to resist? But yet Melanthe, preserve thy thoughts pure for my sake, think not but that a thousand deaths shall give a period to this wretched life, before the least action whereby any may gather a suspicion, shall be exhibited, nay, or the least thought within my self, which shall not be competable with my honour; nevertheless I cannot, but I must still say I preserve pure inclinations to Euripedes, and shall sooner die than entertaine the thoughts of another. The Love I beare thee hath exacted this con­fession from me, in which I neither distrust thy fidelity, nor thy help.

'Madam (answered Melanthe) I confesse for these two or three dayes I have read a more than ordinary sadness in your looks, but those characters were so vail'd, that the most diligent Physiognomist could never see the cause; But since you have been pleas'd to take off that vail, and to let me know the cause, give me leave to tell you, that I see no reason why you should afflict your self: And I wonder that you account to Love, a crime, since it is enforced upon the will, with so much rigor and vio­lence; we do not use to impute the crime to them, who are forced against their wills to the commitment, nor count them noxious that are forced contrary to their own spirits to commit an errour; it is the consent of the will that makes us culpable, which cannot be laid to your charge, see­ing there is so absolute a forcement, and without the least indulgencie on your part, your repugnancy shewing how unwilling you were to lose your liberty. It is not in this as in other things, where the will is able to make its choice, for we are able, and have so much power left us, that rather than lose our honour, with a generous resolution to sacrifice our Lives, but in this we are so suddenly surprized, that even the will is forced to that which you call a crime, and then to offer a Life, is not a choice, but an expiation, but of what? of that which even the gods themselves had forc'd us to, which would be blasphemy to say their actions are worthy of expiation, and therefore you need not imagin that a crime, nor think your self guilty when you are clear. You see with what confidence a [...]l the world entertains this Deity, few or none escaping the touches of his flame, being once arrived at the age of puberty; though some have it more violently injected than others. There seems mighty difference in the actions of love, in some he seems to be the causer of vice, in others the causer of vertue, which hath made some account him as they have seen his effects, whether good or bad, which difference is not to be imputed to the nature of Love, which is constant, pure, and unchangable of it self, [Page 42] but to the different dispositions of those people that possesse him, and clea­ving to the habit of their mind, is regulated according to their dispositions, and though in effect it keep its Soveraignty over the Will, in that it cannot chuse but Love; yet it leaves it free to act, and gain the object that it Loves according to its own disposition, or inclination: and this is it that makes so many different faces in Love, as there are different humours in men: And this is manifest in that we see some to gain what they desire through the pas­sion of Love, become most mercilesse Tyrants, seeking all the wayes of vice, painting their way with blood, using all wayes their evil hearts may suggest, and yet in appearance caus'd by the passion of Love: Others by the same passion seek to attain their wish'd desires, by the rules of Vertue, submission, duty and obedience; all things contrary to the former, which makes Love either a virtue or a vice according to the actions, and several dispositions of men or women; therefore to Love is no crime, but the impudicity of our actions that makes us criminal. But Madam, as the basenesse of our actions who are troubled with this passion, be a disgrace to Love, in the eyes of those who are not able to judge right of him, so the goodnesse of their actions that are virtuously possest with the same passion redound to his Complement, and without doubt having suffered by the impudicit action of others, and knowing the severity of your humour, he hath call'd you from all the world, to restore him the good opinion he once had in the eyes of the world, and lost by the folly of others. Therefore Madam feart not, that this deity will do any injury to so considerable a servant, but expect him to infuse the like virtue and the like passion into the object of yours, if he hath not already ef­fected it; and for the rest wherein my duty and fidelity is expected, you need not doubt, having vow'd my life to your service, but that I will employ it to the utmost of my abilities.

In this manner Melanthe sought to ease the disquiets of Amenia, who re­turned her an answer to what she had said, and being somewhat setled, repo­sing much in the abilities of Melanthe, she made her to return to her bed, and gave her self to a repose, that might fit her for the intuition of the next dayes sports.

Had I had but that happinesse, to have known with what affection Amenia beheld me, I should not have felt those torments which I did endure that night, and many others for her sake: having past it over with Loves usual dis­quiets, and very little sleep, I arm'd my self with those flames, which repre­sented those within my breast, and in the same manner at the hour appoint­ed I entered the lists, as I had done the day before. I shall be brief and pass this over, only I may tell you, and I think without vanity, that I d [...]d more that day, than I had done both the dayes before to the admiration of all the Spe­ctators, not being moved out of my Saddle at the decursion of all those, who that day I made to kiss the earth.

The better part of the day being spent, and the long intermission since any had appeared to oppose me, made us think the sports had been ended, and we were about to break them up, when there entered at the other end of the lists a Cavalier of a good port, having his sword ready drawn, armed with fair green armes and over them a strong paludament, his caske was plumated, with green and white intermixed he attracted all the eyes of the beholders upon him, but his motion was so furious that it gave them hardly leasure to behold him. His furious pace soon brought him up to me, and being come near, with a voyce that shew'd anger had prepossess'd him, he said, "Proud man! is this the way to raise your glory, having ambitioned a happinesse thou art not worthy of, by the breaking of a few reeds, which is rather a sport for boys; than an exercise for men? if thou hast not lost all that cou­rage, which fame hath told us you shew'd against the Romanes, let us see it [Page 43] in defending thy self against me who am thy mortal foe, with as much ani­mosity, as thou hast shewn pusillanimity in maintaining these juvenile sports. I am come purposely to deprive thee of a Life before these Spectators, which cannot be in safety so long as I live, and to let thee see on what weak foundations thy aspiring hopes are built. He spake these words so loud that they were easile heard by Lilibilis, Amenia; and those that accompanied them. Lilibilis thought he knew that voyce, but the unexpected evenement, and his bold carriage, took off his imaginations, from calling to his remem­brance who it might be, and only took care to prevent a combate he saw so much desir'd on both sides. For, whilst he uttered his audacious speech, I cast my eye on Amenia, and very well perceiv'd by the palenesse of her Coun­tenance, what resentment it had upon her soul, although I knew not but so sudden an evenement hapning to any other in her presence might have caus'd the same timorou [...]ness, and that mov'd me more then his arrogancie, with a desire I had to let her see how easily I could free my self from that presump­tuous one, whose vaunting speeches had suscitated her fear. His words had no sooner flown from his mouth, but I return'd him this answer. 'Sir, I know you not, nor can I conceive what you mean by those ambitioned hopes you tax me with, but as I do not care who you are, so I do not care what you mean, seeing you are come purposely to deprive me of my life, I willingly grant it you if I cannot defend it, I wont wrong, your impatiencie in deterring your desired Combate, but let you see how vainly you had preconceiv'd my death. We immediately precipitated our selves one against another with a most violent encounter, and had not his armes been good I had undoubted­ly slain him at the first shock, though I found his puissance not unequal to his boldness: we reiterated our blowes, so thick, that those who Lilibilis had com­manded to part us, durst not come near us, for fear of losing their own lives, in seeking to save others. Lilibilis, seeing so violent an encounter agitated against his will, descended from the place where he was, and hazarded his own life to part us; for casting himself between us with his sword drawn, he stroke my Aversaries horse so violently over the head, that the pain of the wound made him so curvet, that he had like to have trampled him under his feet, and do all what the stranger could he bruised Lilibilis's foot, and cast my Adversary on his back. Lilibilis commanded his Guard to seize on him, and to have him to prison for his rash attempt, and bold speeches in his pre­sence. I straight vaulted from my Horse, and casting my self at Lilibilis feet, 'I beseech you Sir (said I) do not expose me to the censure of all present for a debility which I am not guilty of, in that I was not able to chastise his insolencie without your interposing. I confess he hath deserv'd death for his insolencies in your presence; this is all I beg for my Adversary, that he may receive it as a man with his armes in his hand, and by me who have most in­terest in it; let not the Combate be defer'd any longer, nor deter me the glo­ry I was about to reap. Lilibilis would not answer me till he had rais'd me up, and then he replied, I doubt not at all Euripedes of your ability in ra­ming a stronger Adversary, but his insolence doth not deserve to be so nobly punish't; it would be too much glory for him to receive a death at your hands, and will be too much trouble to me to see you deprive him of life, with the ha­zard of one so dear to me, let me desire you to let him suffer by the hands of ex­ecutioners, and not expect that honour from your hands. I again besought Li­libilis, and persisted with so many intreaties that at last he granted the Combat, but with great reluctancie. Lilibilis being returned to the place where he be­fore sat, the Guard left us to prosecute the Combat. The stranger coming up to me I doubted not my Liberty (said he softly) 'When Lilibilis had known me, however I cannot but take notice of your generosity, which never [...]heless can­not oblige me to abate any of that enmity which I bear you, therefore expect [Page 44] the usage you could look for from your deadliest foe, and think not your action hath oblig'd me to spare you. I beg'd not the Combate (replied I) to gain your favour, or to oblige you to an action which might not be for your own safety, for I intend to prosecute you with the utmost of my vigor, and give you that which you expect to render to others. We straitwayes re­new'd our Combate, but with so much impetuositie, that the Spectators had never seen the like; my Adversary seem'd more furious and violent in his mo­tion then at first, and with his blowes seem'd to renew his strength and cou­rage; indeed he had the advantage on me in that I had travelled ha [...]d all that day in those Justs, which had he been to have maintain'd, he would not have accounted so childish, and by that reason I was something the less able to reanswer those strokes which came thundering upon my head. I was a­bashed to see with what impetuousness he prosecuted me: but considering in whose presence I fought, and what consequence his fall was to the Comple­ment of all my former performances, I gathered all my strength together at that instant, and falling upon him with so violent a surcharge, I forc'd him to make use of all his skill for the defence of himself, his armes were so good that it was a long time before I could draw one drop of blood; but at last with a continual batterie I forced my Sword into his flesh upon his shoul­der close by his neck, the blood which incessantly ran from his wound soon died his armes and the ground with its crimson colour, and much debilitated him. I had received three wounds but not considerable, nor were they any impediment in the heat I was in; I found the greatnesse of my Adversaries wound, by the weaknesse of his blowes, and perceiv'd the Victory my own. I thought to oblige him with these words which I directed to him. 'I am un­willing Sir to take the advantage I have over you, and to make a Valour fall at my feet which is considerable, it was your own words made you my E­nemy, and having no greater cause as I know of to account you my foe, your own words may likewise render you my friend, go but and confesse your indiscretion at the feet of the renowned Lilibilis, and I my self will help to implore your life. His anger and dispight made the fire almost pro­ceed from his eyes, and thinking it would have oblig'd him, I found it other­wise by his words. 'Your friend (said he) no, it is not the conservation of this life shall make me admit the least thought of friendship towards you, were it in your power to give it me, I hope yet and am assured on it too, to see thee breath thy last at my feet: With this, with more fury then strength he lifted up his Sword stretching himself to render it the more violent, in the interim irritated as I was through his disobliging speeches, with a violent cast I made an entrance with my Sword; as his arm was erected, under his arm-pit which was the more enlarged through the violent falling of his own upon my head, which made my Sword appear at his back, he strook too home to do me any harm, but clapsing his armes about me with great courage sought to fling me to the earth, but having freed my self from his embraces I drew my Sword out of his body, and with a back stroke, strook him so forcible on his crest that I tumbled him at my feet. I was about to pull off his Cask and to make him beg his life, or give him his death, when I felt so many forcible blowes upon me that they set me upon my knees; at last mauger all opposition, I recover­ed my feet, and turning about saw at least ten or a dozen Horsmen who sought with all violence to deprive me of my life: This sudden surcharge put me into an astonishment, 'Is this the way then thou intendest I should die? cried I out very furiously, and casting my self among them I deprived the first I struck at of his life; I soon found they had not that valour nor courage as he whom I first fought with, they knew what they did must be with expediti­on, which made them seek all manner of wayes to slay me, running upon me with their Horses, but being carried with a desperate fury I slew four of them [Page 45] before I fell, and I think wounded them all, just as I fell Lilibilis came with his Guard, who had made all the hast they could from the place where they were, not expecting such a treacherie, those that assailed me fled at their approach, but Lilibilis thinking me dead ran in among them, unarmed as he was, and slew two of them with his own hands, the other were taken by the Guard, and destined to exquisite torments. Lilibilis approached me, and finding me yet alive exhibited the joy he had through his eyes, he caus'd me immediate­ly to be carried into his Pallace, and gave his Chirurgians as great a charge of me, as if they had been to preserve himself. As they were carrying me into the Pallace, we went by the Scaffold where Amenia and Clotuthe were, at our approach we heard a grievous cry among those that were there, I would not be carried any further before I understood the cause, when it was told me Ar­menia was through the fright that she had conceiv'd in that hurliburlie cast into a sworn, and Clotuthe drown'd in teares for my losse, and the treachery that was acted: 'I bid them that brought me this newes to present my humble duty to them both, and tell them that by the assistance of the gods, and the industry of the Surgions, I might yet Live to do them further ser­vice. My thoughts began presently to work upon that which I heard, and in­duced a good presage to my future fortunes, I began to please my self by thinking Amenia might have some particular inclination to me, in that my death so nearly touch'd her, I began to collect her paleness when my foes insolency exhibited it self by his speeches, for my own advantage, and to strengthen my self with many such pleasing thoughts. In the mean time Lilibilis thinking my adversary had been dead, because he lay without mo­tion, pulled off his cask to know who it was, assoon as they had discovered his face, Lilibilis stood in as great amazemenr as one deprived of his senses, he could hardly believe his own eyes when he saw it was Mandone the Prince of the Cantabrians, and him to whom he had promised Amenia, and so accounted him as his son in Law. 'What's this I see? (cryed Lilibilis steping backward) what my son? could he be guilty of so great a treachery against him who hath preserv'd my life, and Signiory, and hazarded his life so often for my sake against our mortal foe? Whilst Lilibilis said this the fresh air had brought Mandone to himself, and opening his eyes, beholding Lilibilis and all the rest standing round about him amazed, he sought to arise, but he was so enfeebled through the loss of his blood, that he fell again to the earth, and fainting away, he was not able to bring out those words he was about to utter. It was then very different motions strove in Lilibilis breast, compassion and a just resentment contended for the mastry, when he look'd upon him as my foe, as my murtherer, and the avowed enemy of my rest, he was about to finish that life he saw so debi­litated, with his own hands; but on the contrary when he look'd upon him as his son, to whom he promised Amenia, and to whom he was indebted for many former kindnesses, and him whose valour was the chief obstacle that the Romans had no better success against them where he fought, he thought it not fit to slay one so considerable, his youth pleaded for his temerity, his quality and place wherein he held him, pleaded for his safety, and his wounds and pitifull condition suscitated a compassion that at last stifled his anger, and overcame all other resentments. He caus'd him therefore to be had to his Pallace, and gave order for the cure of his wounds. He could not understand by his servants what was the cause he sought my life, but only that Mandone had given them a charge to be in a readiness, and when they saw him slain, (not else to stir) not to let me escape alive: for hearing reports of my valour, he doubted his strength, yet he charged his men not to fall upon me till they were sure he was slain. Being they were Mandone's servants, and had done nothing but by his command, they let [Page 46] them have the liberty to attend their Master, after their wounds were dressed. Lilibilis immediately came to visit me, but was not permitted by the Surgions to speak to me: they assured him my wounds were not mortal, though they were very many, they told him it would very much retard the cure to have me often visited, which made him contented only to look on me once a day without many words for a week; it contibuted to his joy when in so short a space, I shew'd such effectual signs of my amendment, so that he was permitted to acquaint me with the designs of my adversary. Having first expressed abundance of sorrow for the accident that had happened to me, he told me who my adversary was, and the considerations that made him spare him.

'Nevertheless (said he) if Euripedes cannot overcome his just resent­ments, and pardon that life which was at his mercy, neither the conside­ration that he is in the place of a Son, nor the fear of his fathers wrath, shall with-hold me from rendring him a punishment according to the vile­ness of his fact, in seeking the life of him to whom I owe all my safety, the love I bore him shall not overcome the love I owe to Euripedes, nor the Justice wherewith I should punish such insolencies, shall be diverted by any considerations▪ for I am resolv'd he shall not hold his life but of Eu­ripedes. When I heard who it was, you may consider my interests desir'd his expiration, and I was angry with my self that I had not finisht that life, which now I could not take away without a great blot and infamy to my honour; I considered likewise the affection Lilibilis bore me, which made me that I could not consent to the death of one so considerable, whose death would inevitably bring sharp wars upon him, and so might be the utter ruine of them all, and the making of their common foe, without the great­est piece of ingratitude which could be offered; These considerations, with an ambition I had not to be out-brav'd in vertue, made me return him this answer. 'The gods forbid that ever I should desire the death of a person whose valour hath made him so remarkable, and by whose fall I have gained more glory then could have been expected by his death; but especially in that he holds the place of a Son in Lilibili's affections, for which only consideration I not only desire his life, but his pardon, in that I have offended one so near to Lilibilis, and shall stifle all resentments whatsoever for his friendship: I cannot imagin what hath made him my enemy, nor caused in him that violent desire of my death: I was sorry his obstinacy made me bring him to that exigent, but I am not only glad that he lives, but that I live also to do him service, for never shall Li­libilis his friends be my foes. These speeches were uttered with much re­luctancy, and contrary to the desires of my heart, not but that I could have forgiven the greatest injury that could have been done to my person, but considering him as my Rival, I could not think on him but as my mortal foe. Lilibilis embraced me as stricktly as the tenderness of my wounds would permit, and highly praising me for my vertue, told me, 'He would disown him for a son, if he did not acknowledge me as the doner of his life, and crave pardon at my feet for the injury he had done me. After many speeches to divert him from requiring any such thing of him, I besought him to let me know the cause of his enmity. The cause was so false (said he) that since he hath been assured to the contrary, he is ashamed of his credulity, and repents of what he hath done, seeming by his speeches much to desire your friendship, but not to hide it from you, he had heard, (and I believe from some of Amenia's servants) how you were like to have depriv'd him of the happiness of en­joying my daughter, and that you had gain'd much upon her affections, and that these Justs were held only for her sake; this news so netled him, that [Page 47] he never stood to examine the truth, but enraged as he was, left Juliobri­ga to put in execution what the gods and your innocency deter'd. When I knew the cause, my self, and all that were near Amenia, assured him the contrary, and I was fain to make him new assurances of my daughter to asswage those violent motions these considerations had cast him in, he would have had the like assurances from Amenia, but she answered him as she did ever, That she would never disobey the will of her father, and whomsoever he should design for her husband, she should accept without murmuring, and that all inclinations whatsoever should stoop to those of duty. We pacified him at last, and then I sharply reprov'd him, both for his credulity and temerity, but his repentance mov'd me to beg his pardon at your hands.

After some expressions by me of my innocency in the suscitation of Mandone's Jealousie he left me, but to those tormenting thoughts that you may imagin his discourse had rais'd. I begin to see all my hopes de­jected and cast in the dust, and that structure which I had built in my I­maginations to be broken all to pieces, I saw it was a folly to gain an inclina­tion which her vertue would force to cede to duty, I look'd upon my self in a deplorable condition, and I saw Mandone already Possessor of Amenia by her fathers promise, and hers in obedience to him, my only hopes were, I did not see she bore him any inclination, nor would accept of him did not duty force her. On the other side Amenia (though unknown to me) was no less troubled at this accident than I, and falling into her wonted la­crymations, put her Melanthe to her usual divertisements, duty and love had many a sharp conflict in her soul, and neither obtaining the victory, gave her unsufferable Cruciations; she detested Mandone for what he had done to me, and bewail'd me with a great deal of interest, my last per­formances were too greedily intuited to be forgotten, and my valor in overcoming so considerable an enemy, was preserv'd with much interest in that feminine breast: O how often did she wish he had dyed by my hand, and how little she thank'd the gods for their assistance in his preservation, Melanthe was her only comfort, who by a thousand Sophistries mitigated her dolor.

My Rival passed his time with no less torment, for shame and dispight in being overcome by me, and his manifest treachery making him odious to ma­ny generous souls, fill'd him with anxiety. And though he dissembled it, he could not so satisfie his humour, but that he still imagined me his Rival, and bore me an implacable grudge. The thoughts and inward commotions pro­ceeding from his troubled humour, retarded the cure of his wounds, and caus'd inflammations that made them in fear of his life.

For my part that trouble which continually assaulted my soul through those considerations in three dayes space had cast me into a violenr feaver, and my wounds bleeding afresh so debilitated me, that they thought I could never sustain the loss of so much blood, and the Surgions almost despaired of my ever recovering. Clotuthe by the special command of Lilibilis visited me every day, and with her Amenia, we could not entertain one another, be­cause the Surgions thought it might conduce to my disrepose, but with a dying eye I gave Amenia many sad glances, which testified the anxiety of my soul, I found a great desire in my self to die, so I might but have the happiness (as I accounted it) to have assured Amenia that I died hers. So foolishly vain are the thoughts of those involved in the snares of love, to account it the chiefest bliss, and greatest happiness, next to the enjoyment of the be­loved object than can betide them, to assure those they love they die for their sakes, and precipitateing themselves in an amorous humour, find death sweet in such assurances, and receiving its cold kisses with ardent desires, [Page 48] testifie a content not to be measured in the expiration, when such souls whom they expire for account it an idle humour, or believing when they saw they could not live, thought to oblidge them, by telling them they dyed theirs.

This was hardly liked by Argelois, but for the interrupting of his story he would have replyed, but considering he might have been accounted by some unmannerly, he bit in his words, and heard him proceede thus.

Clotuthe visited me every day, sitting sometimes an hour or two upon the side of the bed, where she shed so many tears, and expressed her self with so many obliging words, that I could not but repeat the gratefullest words I could devise, without very great ingratitude, it made me sorry to see how oblig'd I was to her, and how unlikely I was to repay that officiousness which with great affection she expressed: I sought often to recount to her how un­worthy I was of those obligations, and that she debas'd her self too much, to render them to one so unworthy the least favour, she always answered me with so much modesty, that though her actions testified a great affection her words never betrayed them, but in the midst of sadness she often gave a cheerfull look, and whilst tears trickled down her cheeks, some smiles seem'd to comfort me, which exhibited a deploring my condition, and re­joycing that she suffered with me at one time; all this I took as the effects of her good disposition. However to ballance these favours, she did me more sensible injuries, for desiring as much as she could to entertain me alone, she sought with all diligence to avoid Amenia, and to see me without her; but Amenia's severity would not permit her to see me without her mother in Law, so that by this means I lost the sight of her, who had preserv'd my life by her visits, Amenia at last perceiv'd her mothers spightfulness, and was much troubled at it, which made her the narrowlyer to vigilate her actions, and mistrusted that which at that time I did not perceive. Amenia when she fail'd of coming her self, sent Melanthe to see how I did, and to excuse her absence. Lilibilis likewise every day rendred me a thousand testimonies of his goodness, and expressed a wonderfull trouble at my weakness. I should be too tedious and too long to tell you all the speeches, and the several visits they all gave me, during this weakness, it is enough to tell you the chiefest passages, and that every visit Amenia gave me, infus'd a life into my soul, which her absence took away; her presence gave me strength, her absence debilitated me; whilst she lookt on me I felt no pain, when she saw me not I felt no ease; when I saw her she suscitated a joy, but her departure regave me my grief. Thus I passed a week with a sensible de­clining, my thoughts still agitating in a violent motion, retarded the healing my wounds, and encreased my feaver, the Surgions and those who had me in cure, look'd upon me as one already dead, which begat a great consterna­tion in the minds of all those that bore me any good will, till then I could not believe I should die, but now I was perswaded to it through my own debility, which made me resolve to utter that, which my respect till then had made me detain, and to let Amenia know the torments I had indured for her sake, and with what great respect I serv'd her, in the so long concealing of them, I hop'd that my life would end with my speeches, and if that the one begot an anger, the other might suscitate a pity; and if I liv'd to hear her sentence me for my temerity, yet it would be a happiness in that her self did con­tribute to my death, and that my content would be extraordinary when that she knew I died hers. In these thoughts I was when Melanthe sent by her Mistriss, came to see if I was yet alive, after she had (a little undrawing the Curtain) beheld me in that weak condition, some tears which her com­miseration had extracted running down her cheeks, she asked me softly how I did. Turning my head towards her, I asked her if there was any body be­sides [Page 49] her self in the room, after that she had told me no, 'Melanthe (said I) if thou hast any compassion on my deplorable estate, as I am apt to think by the testimony of those tears which I see thee shed, render me one favour before I depart this world, which though it cannot be requited, shall yet be preserv'd as the greatest obligation you could ever do me, those small moments I have to live. Sir, (said she) let me but know what it is my poor power is able to effect, and I shall not be more ready to embrace the greatest happiness that could betide me, then I shall be to render you that service I am able, though it be to the hazard of my life. I thank'd her with the obligeingest terms I could devise, and then I proceeded thus. The thing which I shall desire is so great, that I cannot acknowledge a greater obligement, it is to dispose your Princess to felicitate that small remainder of my life with her presence, and to do me that favour to make this last visit alone except your self, because I have something of importance to commu­nicate to her, which till I have done, I cannot depart with my repose, this is the last and greatest favour I may ever require, therefore good Melan­the if thou regardest the repose of a man so deplorable, let it be quickly least my death prevent this desired happiness. Melanthe gave me some assurance that she knew Amenia would not be so ungratefull for all my former services done to her father, as to deny me so small a request, with this she departed the room. Amenia (who made me acquainted with every thing afterwards) received this not without some alteration, but seeing I was near my end, she resolved what ever came of it to yield to so just a request, and to render me so smal a favour, for all my services done her father, besides her love to me oblig'd her to comply to so small desires, and not without some curiosity to know what I had to tell her. Melanthe imagined the truth of what I had to say which she hid from Amenia, lest (though she desired no­thing more) following the severity of her humour, it might have stopt her comming. In less than half an hours space I saw her enter the chamber, with none but Melanthe, which gave me great joy, but accompanied with a fear that caused a general tremour through out my body. After she had seated her self as near my bed-side as she could, I look'd upon her with a languishing eye, which seemed to crave het pity to accompany me to the grave, and did not insensibly behold that beauty, which as near the grave as I was, had power to give me a resurrection, though I expected nor hoped for any such thing. I beheld her a while with silence, and con­fusion, till I saw the consideration of my deplorable condition had drawn some tears from her eyes, and then ushering my words with a sigh, I spake to her thus. 'Madam, I have precipitated my self into a boldness al­together inexcusable, could I otherwise have left the world with repose? This boldness could not be consented to but at the last exigent, and yet even now I cannot excuse nor accuse my own temeritie, but I am per­swaded your compassion is so great, and your goodness so far exceeding others, that you will account my death a sufficient expiation of my crime. Amenia would not permit me to go on in those terms, but very softly spake thus to me. 'Euripedes, I cannot without interrupting you hear you call that a crime, which I account a duty incumbent on me. It is a cha­rity acceptable to the gods to visit the distressed, and a sign of great in­humanitie not to afford our assistance to the afflicted, and especially to those whose obligements require greater services, and would condemn us to an eternal remorse, if we sought not all wayes, wherein honour, is not interested, to satisfie their desires. I am come therefore Euripedes, not accounting that a boldness, which puts me in mind of a duty that I ow both from my fatherrs commands, and to obligements of the highest nature from Euripedes, whereby I may render the last, but the least satisfaction to [Page 50] them and may be endeavoured a fuller, if the gods answer the expecta­tions of our prayers, for a life so considerable to us. I would gladly hear what it is you have to say, and account it a farther obligation to your merits, in that you make me the depositary of your secrets, but that I fear your much speaking might increase the indisposition you are in, and it may be hasten that death which the gods may yet defer; this considera­tion Euripedes makes me request you not to incommode your self by speak­ing, unless your repose absolutely depend thereon, for I am not able to see you die without being more sensible of it than you think, nor your weakness without my share in it.

These words were a cordial to my heart, and I found so much sweetness in them that I accounted it a panacea sent me immediately from the gods to cure those inwards wounds by a hope inspir'd from thence, but the consi­deration how differnt I might affect her by the words I was about to utter, made me resume my despaire, and as soon as she made a little stop; 'Ma­dam (said I with a very enfeabled voice) this goodness of yours is surpas­sing that of mortals, and I could not have expected so charitable speeches out of a mouth lesse divine, which fills me with unexpressable sorrow in that I must abuse it, and that my repose cannot be, unlesse I utter that which I fear will make you contradict what you have said, and instead of desiring my repose, condemn me to an eternal torment; my only hopes are, the end of my speeches will put a period to my life, that I may not bear that sentence with me, to disturb my repose in the the Elizian fields, which (it may be) in justice may be pronounc'd against me. Madam, those obligations you mention were never to be found in me, and those small ser­vices I had the honour to do your father have had a glorious recompence, since you have mention'd them far beyond their deserts, being the glory that accompanied them in serving one so noble, had over and above sa­tisfied the smalnesse of the actions. But ah Madam! you say you bear a share in my miseries, but alas! shall I trespass upon your goodness? or may I tell you, without a condemnation worthy of that I am about to de­clare, that you are the cause of these my torments? Ah Madam, reflect on your own beauty, and imagine whether it were possible for me to remain so near those attractions and be impassible, I felt their influence in behold­ing an inanimate essigies, and judge what the effect could be in living in the intuition, which the most accurate hand in the world could never give the least shadow of, consider whether it were possible they should not in­spire thoughts of a happiness so far beyond my capacity, and make me, though out of hopes, to vow my self eternally yours. I beseech you hear me after this free confession, and consider my love by my respect, which had im­pos'd a perpetual silence on my lips, and made me content to: ren­der you those services which could be expected from one truely loving, without expecting any other satisfaction, than that in doing them to you, which truly was reward and happiness enough, besides the effects of that goodness which inseparably accompanieth you, and by which I was con­tinually rewarded beyond my deserts. Let me also beseech you not to judge this unpardonable fault according to the rigor it might deserve, but mitigate it with thoughts truly worthy of your self and wonted clemency. Consider I have not had this imprudency of acknowledging it till the last moment of my life, though the pains inseparable to such a condition might have excus'd it, and by that consider how fearful I was to lose a happinesse I liv'd in, and how loth I was to have disturb'd your repose by this con­fession which could not but have been fatal to me, and how careful I have been to conserve it to my own ruine rather than to declare it, but by my servi­ces. At last grant one favour more, that after this confession, if it hath [Page 51] suscitated an indignation against Euripedes, yet remember him not as a soe after his death, but let that make a perfect expiation of all his faults, nor envy him this happiness that he dies yours.

'Now, O ye gods! take this life away which you have given me, and pre­serv'd with honour enough, since you have given me the happinesse to serve Amenia, and deny not this felicity since you have permit­ted me to serve her, with an affection pure and unspotted, and worthy your selves. Deny me not, I say, this happinesse at this instant to expire for her.

I saw Amenia was ready to return me an answer, and that my words had suscitated a redness in her cheeks, but I was not so skilful to know what it might portend, and fearing the event, with the imbecillitie I had put my self to in speaking, I fainted away just as she began to speak, the fear she was in made her screek out, and call Melanthe to recover me, after they had both used many means though it were long first, at last they made me open my eyes, but with so languishing and dying an aire, that drew tears from Amenia, which she fought to hide with her hand­kerchief. Before she could dissipate that trouble that oppos'd her utter­ance; 'Madam (said I looking on her with confusion, which expressed my passion more powerfully than my words) are you resolved then to make me hear the sentence of your indignation? or will you forbid me the happiness to die? my resolutions are unchangeable of dying yours, and I cannot have a more happy time than now to expire. Surely I have not many moments to live, but seeing your self have caused me to live them, I ought to be content though it be more grievous then to die, and hearken to that which will prove either my eternal torment or consola­tion in the other world, for the one I fear, for the other I cannot hope. A little silence succeded my words when she broke it in this manner. What shall I say, Euripedes, you have surpriz'd me, and you will pardon me if I say I can hardly believe you; but if it be true that that little beauty the gods have given me, have had such power over you, the respect you alwaies bore me pleads for the mitigating of a severity, which this con­fession might have made me resolve upon, and tells me that it is injustice to passe any other sentence, then to command you to live, and if the power of my words can contribute to it, I shall not only command, but intreat you to conserve a life that is so considerable to our interests, and if I may say so to me too, and that you banish those thoughts that may any waies disturb your repose. I know (proceeded she after a sigh which for­ced its passage in spight of her suppression) it will be a sollie to com­mand you not to love me, if your passion be so strong as you exhibit it, but I must impose the same silence which hath accompanied you to this hour concerning this thing, and not to trouble me with an affection I am like never to reanswer, you are not ignorant my father hath destin'd me to another, and I shall never contradict his will. Live therefore Euripedes, but live as you have hitherto done, and by that you will testifie your love more than by all the words you can use to me, however if it be possible with­draw your affections, if it be not I shall judge of the purity of them by your actions. Is there no hope then (replied I) this apprehension made me a second time faint in her presence, and so long it was before Melanthe could fetch life in me, that they both thought it had utterlie abandoned me, at last as the fates would, I opened my eyes, but I beheld Amenia's so full of tears, that I could not but draw comfort in that she pitied me. 'Live Euripedes if thou wishest me any content, and if I must say so, hope Euripedes that thou mayest not be indifferent to me. She presently held up her hand before her face to hide that rubor her words had suscitated; although [Page 52] I thought she spoke thus favourable to me, to hinder my design of dying, yet I could not but draw a support from them. 'But must I live Madam (said I) with that severe imposition? can any one having a passion like mine, live in a continual restraint, and not be permitted to utter the least part of what they suffer for others? 'Go not about (replied Amenia) to force me to that I cannot consent to, if I were not my self restrain'd by the Laws of duty, Euripedes might have more libertie; you force me to speak (being a­sham'd she had spoke so much, which she testified by pulling her vaile o­ver her face) that which I believe I ought to have conceal'd. 'If the gods intend me my life (said I) which I will not seek to frustrate, seeing you command me to live to serve you, I shall endeavour to satisfie your seve­rity by the patient enduring of that pain, which the restraint you have im­pos'd upon me will bring.

Lilibilis entred at the conclusion of these words with Clotuthe to see me, they both expressed their resentments for my indisposition, when I com­forted them, by telling them some of my paines were mitigated, and that I thought I had passed the chiefest brunt which gave me hopes the gods would preserve my life, this gave my deplorers some comfort, but none except Amenia and Melanthe comprehended the drift of my speeches. They were soon caus'd to withdraw by the Chirurgions order for fear of disqui­ing me, who desir'd me to be as silent as I could, and to give my self rest. I found my self better able to obey his proposition, since I had made known my minde to Amenia then before, but I spent the chiefest part of that day in recounting Amenia's speeches, whereas I could gather for my self little hope, so I could gain nothing to make me despaire, neither could I blame, nor excuse her severity, I resolved to obey her, and in that obedience to perish or gain my satisfaction.

Amenia soon invented means to entertain her self alone with Melanthe, and being entred her closet together; 'Did not I tell you Madam (said Melanthe briskly) that the gods would be so propitious to your love, that you should have no cause to complain? that passion wherewith he is im­bued, is no slight one, and he hath given sufficient testimonies of a grand respect, be you careful therefore that you draw not upon your self your own miserie by your too too much severitie. I hope you will pardon my auda­citie Madam in proffering you councel, who are able to administer it to the whole earth, but even the wisest prepossest with this passion, desire it from those of less abilities than themselves, not being able to be their own Physitians, though they become very good ones to others. Melanthe (replied that dear one) I accept of thy speeches as coming from that zeal and love thou bearest for my happinesse, but I cannot see that the gods are a­bout to favour me so much as thou thinkest, but involving me more deep into a passion that giveth me not a minutes repose, will at length bury me in its ruines, this I foresee which takes away part of that joy I otherwise might conceive for Euripedes Love. How can I propose to my self any thoughts of enjoying him, whom to thee I must confess I dearly Love, when my father hath already given me to another, and whose will I can no waies contradict? before I might have only bewail'd my own unhappiness in affecting him who might not have regarded me; but now to augment my miserie I believe he loves me, yet I dare not admit one thought of ever enjoying him. Before I onely deplor'd my own loss, but now his pains, and sufferings which I may cause though I cannot help, overwhelmes me with more sad considerations. Do not think I can see his afflictions and not be partaker with him, nor his miserie without accounting it my own; I cannot obey my own inclinations, because I cannot disobey my father, who engages me to one I can never love, though my duty may compel me [Page 53] to obey him. O dear Euripedes, too dear ever to be forgotten, pardon my severity, since it is an affliction to my self, and as insupportable as it can be to my dear Euripedes. I confess I have inflicted a punishment upon thee too too rigorous, but it is as great a one to me in that I debar my self so great happiness. Melanthe was fain to interpose, and with reasons ne­ver wanting to that witty wench, still gave her some beam of comfort in her deepest afflictions. 'The gods (said she) ought not to be distrusted, be­fore you only complained that his inclinations were unknown to you, you considered not the diffiuclties which now you propose, or if you did, at least less considerable, the gods having been thus propitious, it should in­duce you to believe, that they intend your content, and will give happy issue to your love. Do but your endeavour to conform your mind to their wills, and though you see so many difficulties, it is but to make your enjoyment the more sweet, for those things are the most highly priz'd which have cost us the most travel, and the most pains, and the difficultest conquest, gains the most glory. Many other means and speeches Melanthe, used to settle a hu­mour thorowly disturbed with love and dispair, which wrought so upon her, that she with-held not from her; her most secretest thoughts, and accounted her self happy in her sidelity.

Within two or three dayes the gods sent me a very savourable Crisis, and my Chirurgions gave Lilibilis some hopes of my recovery, which was generally desired, as my sickness was lamented by them. Three weeks passed away, my sickness decreasing, in which time I was visited by Amenia almost every day, and sometime alone only with Melanthe, which made me with some difficulty obey her too too rigorous commands, nevertheless I exhibited through my eyes that passion which my tongue prohibited to de­monstrate, and by a silent declaration, gave her proofs of my affection and obedience. I taught my eyes to play the Orator, and with a mute Rhe­torick described all the passions of my soul; which was perceiv'd by Amenia, and would, had her affection been capable of it, increased it towards me; my obedience gain'd upon her heart, and my eyes speake so powerfully, that they needed not the adjuvation of the tongue. I accounted my self happy in that I had so frequent a sight of Amenia, and thar she expressed so much care for my recovery. There was never a day passed likewise, but I was vi­sited by Clotuthe who continued her services to that hight, that alwayes made me ashamed that I was so respected. In this state I remained till I had ga­thered so much strength as to leave my bed, and walk about my Chamber. My Rival who never appeared in my thoughts but with indignation, about that time also left his bed, and being somewhat stronger than I, to please Lilibilis, was led into my Chamber, accompanied with Clotuthe, Amenia, and others, who came to see me. Assoon as they were entred; I have brought '(said Lilibilis) a prisoner who cannot be set at liberty but by your sentence, nor receive that life we have given him but by acknowledging it your gift. This was according to Lilibilis his humour, but I well perceiv'd that Man­done did not well resent it; however I returned him this Answer not with­out some repugnancy: 'Were he criminal I should soon free him if it lay in my power, being due both to his valor and merits, his temerity may be excused in that he thought me his Rival, and cannot be imputed to him as criminous, being he acted through that suggestion: for the other he knows so well how to preserve his life by his own valour, that he need not ask it of any living. This facilitated his complying with Lilibilis his request, and made him stoop his imperious humour, and after our first embraces, (which were cold enough on both sides, and shewed a great antipathy be­tween us, what ever our words were to please Lilibilis) he returned my first speeches with very humble ones, acknowledging that life which he re­tain'd [Page 54] to be the effects of my goodness, in that I had spar'd it being at my mercy, and that he should look upon it as my donation. I returned his with the like, which were accompanied with many others, too long to relate, and in outward appearance we seem'd very good friends, to the great satis­faction of Lilibilis. Three days after he came again to take his leave of me, being his father hearing he was recovered, had sent a letter for him with a band of men to conduct him to Juliobriga, we parted very friendlie according to out­ward ceremonies, although we desired nothing more than each others death; I was very glad he had left me the liberty of entertaining Amenia with more freedom by his departure, for I feared his jealousie might have been some impediment to my visiting her. But before he departed he made Lilibilis to promise him, not to delay the time any longer of his possessing Amenia than that following Summer, which he was willing to spend in the exercise of Mars against his enemies, and to consecrate the next winter to the sports of Venus; this being concluded, he departed, and by his absence left me great content, though this agreement had suscitated some fear.

The winter was almost consumed before I was permitted to leave my Chamber, and in all that time I enjoyed a happiness not to be paralleld, in the most desired visits of Amenia, my content in her visitations gave ease to those torments which I suffered, and the fear of loosing those favours by which I liv'd, as well as the fear I had to transgress her commands, obserated my lips, and kept my tongue under a perpetual restraint; our talk was most commonly on indifferent things, and if at any time I had let slip the least word tending to love, or that might make her take notice of my passion, my cheeks were left destitute of their Rubor, and a trepidation seised on my bo­die; so fearfull was I by transgression, to loose the happiness I enjoy'd. My obedience confirmed me in her breast, and gave her most terrible cruciations, in that she was reduc'd to an obedience contrary to her inclinations, by the duty she ow'd to her father. This made her sigh in secret, and send forth rivers of tears, which would have washed away that vivisicent colour that adorn'd her cheeks, had not the comforts of her Melanthe stopped those silver streams in the midst of their distillations. Nevertheless though she perceived the languishing of my eyes, and found them powerfull operators upon her soul, and considered that they implor'd the assistance of my tongue to tell her the torments I endured, yet could not these considerations subdue her severity, though her self deserved not to use it against me, but she would not counter­mand what before she had commanded, and likewise she thought she should have been too weake to have withstood both the assault of my eyes, and tongue together and made her yield with her inclinations contrary to her fan [...]ied severitie. I will not repeat the world of Discourses she had with Melanthe concerning the severitie of her humour, and how often she had been about to let me know the affection she bore me, being overcome by the powerfull perswasions of that wench, and how often she blamed her self for her own thoughts, and accused her self as guilty of the most hainous crimes, at the least commitment againt her severe humour; yet all her se­verity could not with-hold her from seeing me dailie, and redring me that sa­tisfaction for my imposed silence, as also to give her self that divertisement in my companie which she was not capable of in my absence. Though my se­quent Am [...]retta's were so unfortunate, and those that made me an adversary to love; yet I must confesse this was with singular innocence, that we injoy­ed through a powerfull and secret Sympathie one with another, and that life I have accounted amongst the most happiest of my dayes▪ which I have spent in the company of Amenia, whose innocent and pleasing conversation, often put my soul into a posture of tranquillity, and rapt my soul into a contem­plative enjoyment of that which afterwards I received more really, but hardly with more delight.

Thus I had almost passed over the winter, in the sweet conversation of Amenia, never breaking my imposed silence; when Lilibilis had notice given him that the Chief of the Gallicians, desired him with the chief of his men, to meet them on the borders of the Austures, that they might consult for the general good concerning their next Campaign, and in what manner they should oppose their enemies. They sent him word that Caesar was re­turned to Rome, and had left the Legions with Antistius, a valiant Cap­tain, and who with all speed was mustering his Forces to assail them, and to begin the War, though it was so soon. Lilibilis soon departed with the chief of his Commanders, leaving a great charge on Clotuthe to be carefull of me, and desired me to contribute what I could to my health, that I might be in a condition to render him that help which he hoped for from me, and on which he depended more than on his Army. I would have per­swaded him to let me accompanie him, but he utterly refused it in considera­tion that my weaknsse was not so well recovered, but that so sudden a jorney might have thrown me into a relaps. When I saw he would not let me ac­company him, I told him that I would cherrish my self, as much as his ab­sence possible could give me leave, and that I only desired my life to loose it in his service, to which I had destinated the remainder of my daies: He re­plyed in very civil terms, having nothing of Barbarism in him, and after our mutual imbraces he departed, leaving me to the care of those, whose love had made them uncapable of having their care of my health augmented by his commands or entreaties. The second day after Lilibilis his departue, I was set in my chamber by the fire in a very deep melancholy ruminating, on the different tyrannies of the God of Love, and considering how deeply I was engaged in a passion, that had cost me so many tears, and so much trouble, and yet had receiv'd nothing but a severe Law from the mouth of my goddess, when her Melanthe suddenly entred my Chamber, and surprized me in the midst of those tears, which my ardent passion had extracted from my eyes. That Maid whom affection had tied to my interests, excused her so sudden and uncivil entrance, (as she termed it) with very good language, and de­sir'd my pardon for her incivilitie. I soon made her understand how glad I was of her company, and how much I desired an opportunity of entertaining her alone. She told me she came from her Mistriss, who had sent her to ex­cuse her, in that she had not seen me that day, by reason of an indisposition which had made her keep her Chamber. I replyed, I was unworthy the ho­nour she did me in taking so great a care of my well-fare, and that I could en­tertain the assurance of my own death with less trouble then to understand she was indispos'd in her health. The Maid reanswer'd, that there was no fear of any danger in her Mistriss indisposition, and that she made no question but that she would visit me the next day, and pay me interest for that dayes neglect; we spent some time in these interlocutions, till at last, after I had forc'd her to sit down, I uttered my self in these terms. 'Melanthe you can­not be ignorant of the cause of those tears you have surpriz'd me in, which are but a small part to what I dailie and almost hourlie offer to a severitie which hath made me mute. You know I have manifested my love, and you do not ignore to what a cruel silence I was condem'd: I have not hitherto transgressed it, though all the world is ignorant, with what torment I un­dergo it, I continually sigh, languish, and spend my time in tears, and yet dare not declare my misery, which is the only and considerable ease others troubled with the like passion enjoy. Was there ever such a Law im­pos'd on any as is on me? which makes me live in the continual languish­ment of my soul, and in the dailie conversation and intuition of the object of all my suspirations, and still to lock up my lips by severity not to be par­ralel'd. I know Melanthe, though sickness hath not kil'd me, that grief will, [Page 56] if not mitigated by some relaxation, but if I die, it will be a happiness in that it is by keeping a Law impos'd upon me, by that mouth which I so much adore, whereby she shall see Euripedes can never be guiltie of trans­gressing the severest of her commands. I find some ease in declaring this to thee, what allevament should I find in disburdening my self to her? but since she hath enjoyned the contrarie, I must, I will undergo it with silence to the death, and last expiration of a soul totallie hers, and which lives onlie to do her service. She did not bid me (Melanthe) to speak of love to no body else, therefore I hope I have not transgressed in speaking to you, ne­vertheless I desire you not to make her acquainted with it, lest her severity may impute it as a transgression to me. I dare not sue, or desire, O Melanthe, to have this imposition taken off, but you may conceive with what joy I should receive the revocation of so strict a Law; but I doubt I am faulty in in that I desire to have that taken off, which was imposed by Amenia, though it be more grievous, and less easie to be born than death. Sir, (re­plyed Melanthe) your vertues have made me inseparably yours, as far as the duty I owe my Mistriss, and the pudicity of my sex give me leave: I will not tell you how often I have endeavoured her, to revoke that which she had impos'd upon you, and which I saw you bore with a patience not to be parralel'd, because my andeavours prov'd in vain to cause her revoke what she had once commanded. I know the severity of her humour is such, that she will endure the greatest afflictions rather than break it; and this severity is very strange which she useth towards you, strange in that she af­flicts you whom she desires not to afflict, and strange in that she no less afflicts her self, in that she is so severe to you, and that her humour is so strictly tyed, to the severity of her own Law, that she will rather endure what she suffers than break it. She her self hath told you Sir, [therefore I may say it without any infidelity to my Lady] that you are not indifferent to her, but being tied by the cruel Lawes of duty, (cruel in that it makes her contradict her own inclinations, and cruel because they will require her death rather than the breach of them) she must be obedient to him who hath that Soveraign authority over her, which were it otherwise, Euripedes might not receive so sensible afflictions, nor her self such cruciations. If my coun­sel be not too presumptuous, I should advise by no means to break that Law she hath impos'd, till necessity require it, content your self in that she both sees, knows and feels your afflictions. If I have been too lavish of my tongue, I doubt not but you will treasure up in secret what I have told you that I may not be accused of infidelity to her, whose severe humour could never pardon me. The afflictions I saw you suffer, ingaged me to let you know this, that from it you might exprome comfort in your greatest di­stress. I could not chuse but embrace Melanthe at the end of these words, and give her to understand how extreamly sensible of these obligations I was, both by my transports and words. We had a great deal of discourse tending to this matter, whereby I found great ease in the assurance she gave me, that it was not want of affection in Amenia, in that I was condemn'd to silence, and in that she was so severe, but only in obedience to the rules of her duty, and dictates of a natural severiety. After she had given me new assurances of her service in every thing she was able without being unfaith­full and disloyal to Amenia, she left me in some repose bette [...]han she found me.

She was no sooner departed, but I set my self to contemplate on that which I understood from her, and giving way to believe what I desired, I began to possess my self with most pleasing imaginations, but I had not long entertained my self with them, when I was diverted by hearing one at my Chamber door, I had then no servants with me, by reason I had bid them leave me alone that I might with more freedome entertain my thoughts, [Page 57] which made me open the door my self, where I found one of Clotuthe's women, whom I had seen alwaies the most familiar with, and who con­stantly bore her company in her visits to me. Being entred my Chamber, I began to enquire after the health of Clotuthe, she told me she was very much afflicted, and that without a speedy relief she was like to perish under a disease which she had hid from the eyes of all the world. What (said I being startled) is Clotuthe sick then? yea Sir, (answered the woman) and if it were not for some hope which I have inspired, that one who can re­cover her if he will, will be so mercifull to her as to do it, she had been by this time past complaining, 'tis my perswasions alone keeps her alive, and a hope which I have inspir'd. O gods! (cried I) can that man live, who is able to recover Clotuthe, and will not believe himself made happy, if in doing her the smallest service he receive his death? O gods! must he be entreated; nay, and hath she but small hopes he will do it? Let me know this Monster, that with the point of my sword I may make him more sedulous, and desire not only to help her but to lose his life a hundred times were it possible for her preservation. Sir, replyed this subtle woman, I can hardly believe but that he will seek her preservation, being the most generous man living, and truly Sir it is your self must either kill or cure Clotuthe. I was so startled, and confounded at these words, that I had no time to enter into the meaning of them, nor perceive the scope of this womans speeches, but stepping back replyed amazedly, How I? hath she perceived so much ingrati­tude in me, that she hath so little hopes I will not sacrifice a thousand lives if I had them, to do her service? I beseech you explain which way I am able to do her any service, for I am so confounded that 'tis past my imagi­nations to comprehend which way her life depends on me. This woman thinking she had sufficientlie prepared me, and seeing how eager I was to do her service, doubted very little but that she should accomplish her design. Clotuthe her self (said she) shall illuminate your understanding, though I cannot believe you can be ignorant which way to serve her, and in that service to redeem a life which is about to be sacrificed to your Hal­lucination. With that she drew forth a letter out of her sleeve and pre­sented to me. Her last words astonish'd me more than the former, but be [...]ieving the letter would dissipate all doubts, I greedily open'dit, where I read to this purpose.

I Read not this Letter without exhibiting by my face those perturbing passions which it suscitated in my breast, I a hundred times changed co­lour, and my trouble was so great that I could hardly accomplish the reading of it. That gestatrix perceiv'd my perturbation, yet I believe she knew not whether it presag'd good or ill, she was about to assure her self by words, when I cried out. The gods have undone me! I expressed my affliction by iterating those words often, without being capable of uttering more. Why have the gods undone you? (said she composing her countenance as well as she could) I rather think they have made you happy, were you able to see it, I thought what would become of your great protestations to do her service when you were tri'd. Woman (said I with an angry tone) tell me not of doing her service in so unlawful an action, I know it would be the greatest disservice I could do her, to blemish her honour eternallie by illicit actions, the very thoughts thereof are to me more cruel than death, would there were but any occasion offer'd to do her service, wherein her, nor my honour might be contaminated, you should see how willinglie I would embrace a death in the performance. I honour Clotuthe, and I honour her so much, that I will first lose my own life before I will defile hers, or I will banish my self this place, seeing I have made others criminal.

After these words I walked a turn or two, in a very confused posture, and then stopping suddenlie with an action not to be expressed, I can­not believe (said I looking again on the letter) that Clotuthe can be guiltie of this letter; the virtuous Clotuthe could never do it, this is some plot of my enemies to beguile innocent Euripedes, but O my enemies, you shall never intrap him in such illicit actions. The woman seeing me so transported, had not the confidence to interrupt me, but hearing me go on in this, she at last fell into a thousand protestations, adding innumerable oaths, calling all the gods to witnesse that it was no design of my enemies, and that it was onely Clotuthe, who waited but her return to receive her death, there­fore she desired me to take pity on her, and remember how careful she had been of me, and that I should not cause the death of the fair and amiable Clo­tuthe by standing upon a foolish point of honour. I was so moved that I heard not many other words that she said. Ah would the gods (at last cry'd I out) had verified my hopes, and have given me no cause to complain against Clotuthe, by letting it have been a plot of my enemies, with how much less trouble could I have bore it, and with what shame should I have con­founded my enemies. Think not by your perswasions (said I turning to the woman) nor by your implorations to gain me to that which must be a spot of infamy to us both eternallie. Have I received so much kindness, so much honour, so much love from Lilibilis, and shall I abuse it with so great deceit, so much vileness, and so great an abuse, as to defile his bed? the gods cer­tainly [Page 59] would dart thunders upon my head, and the great God of Hospitalitie would Eternally plague me, should I be guiltie of such a thought. O Clo­tuth, would, instead of preserving it, you had abandon'd this life to ruin, then had I never been guilty of hearing this proposal, nor it may be you altogether so criminous. O Lilibilis, how well indeed should I requite your favours, by doing you the greatest of injuries! To defile Clotuthe and dishonour my self for ever: No, no, cease to urge me to so great a crime. That impudent woman replied thus: Sir, I did not think you would have been lesse generous in this action for Clotuthe than you have been in all things else, if you consider her love, and life, they will bear down those weak reasons you alledge. For, what dishonour or infamie can it be, to love her whose love is so unparallelable, and when none in the world else can discover it, and when you receive an affection, that any in the world besides your self, would account a happinesse, to be envied of the Gods themselves? That reason of Honour is nothing, it being but an outside, and can receive no dis­tain but in the eyes of others, which cannot be procured by this, being un­known. Besides, in my mind that is the greatest honour whereby we re­ceive proofs of it from others, to the advantage of our selves, which you do in this, the other being but imaginarie, this real, though secret. But if she is willing to forgoe that point for you, why should you be so scrupulous as not to do so much for her? seeing she lives not but by being yours, why then should you refuse to be hers? Nevertheless, if her love cannot move you, let the consideration of her death cause you to pity her, if I grant you that it is a crime (which can hardly be thought so, seeing the Gods themselves have authoriz'd it by their own actions); think, whether it be not a greater crime, to cause her death by so much rigor, than to preserve her life with so much ease, and pleasure to your self. Fear not that the Gods will punish that, which themselves are examples of, no, they are too just to do so; and as for Lilibilis, it would be far greater indignitie to destroy Clotuthe for all his favours, than to save her life with no wrong to him, especially being un­known. Consider, I beseech you, her death is inevitable, and if you refuse her, her shame will not let her live. Oh, be not so hard-hearted, if you cannot do it with complacencie, force your self to save a life, which else will be lai'd to your charge.

I admire how I heard her so long, but she had proceeded farther if I had not put an end to her speeches; my choler being rais'd to the height: Wo­man (said I, my face shewing my resentment) wert thou not of that sex; which would be a dishonour to me to hurt, I would cruelly chastise thee for these speeches: I know Clotuthe never gave you so large a Commission to treat as you do, her Letter though it be criminal, is not so inverecund. I believe she her self would punish thee if she knew it, and be ashamed of what thou hast spoken in her behalf: being thou belongest to her whom I truly honour, I force my self to forget what you have said, that you may not appear before me as a Monster. Tell Clotuthe that it is impossible for me to be ingratefull, but I cannot satisfie her no other wayes, than by laying my life at her feet: if she looks for other satisfa­ction I have none; however, I will be so carefull of her Reputation, that even my self will forget that ever I received such a Letter from her, that she may not appear criminal in my thoughts. Tell her, I would come to visit her, but that I doubt my Companie would be but a disturbance, and suscitate those motions which I desire my absence may banish, and make her incur danger of discovering to others what her prudence hitherto hath hid, and which rather than it should be known my life should expire at her feet. With these words I left the Woman, and entring a Closet in the Cham­ber I gave her leave to depart.

There I call'd to my remembrance Clotuthe's former kindnesses, her speeches and past actions, and with what fervency and care she performed many things for me, I could then perceive there was a passion in all she did, and her ambiguous speeches were now manifested, and in fine I wondred that I could not perceive it all that while, being openly enough exhibited, but I was so far from thinking of yielding to her, that the more I thought upon her, the more odious she seem'd to me, and in consideration of Ame­nia, I rather began to hate her than love her. My thoughts likewise exhibited to me the great trouble and vexation was like to ensue if she persisted in it, but if my disdaine should cause her hatred, as it was very likelie it should; I saw on that hand as great danger and trouble as might be on the other; I fear'd nothing but ruining my pretentions for Amenia, by stratagems never want­ing to inraged women. My life I valued not, but I fear'd she might pro­cure my banishment, which would be far more g [...]ievous than death. A thousand thoughts came thronging into my mind all representing some disa­ster to ensue, and methought this evement had already ruined my hopes. I complain'd against the gods, inveigh'd against Clotuthe, spoke against my self, and in these transports I spent a good part of the night before I came forth of the closet. When I was in bed my imaginations hardly suffered me to take any sleep; sometimes me thought I saw Clotuthe like a fury assailing me, and endeavouring to tuine me, by and by she was represented acting part of her resentment against Amenia, using her with violence and rigor, this gave me real cruciations, though it were but a thought; and made me often exclaim against her with the bitterest words I could invent, then I saw her in my imaginations acting her own Tragedy, this caus'd me no less feare and trouble on the other side, in consideration that she was the wife of Lili­bilis, whom I very much honoured and lov'd; these troublesome thoughts took away sleep and rest, with some that love injected for Amenia, and I hardly gain'd a slumber that night, which also was interrupted with dreames of the like nature, those Idaea's exhibiting themselves in my sleep.

The next day I was visited by Amenia, and her presence dissipated part of those troubles which continually employed my imaginations, and gave me that relaxation which nothing besides her self could do. We passed our time as we us'd to do, in very ordinary discourse, and though she lov'd me well, yet had she hardly the confidence to six her eyes upon mine when she spake, and when she perceiv'd how intentively I beheld her, my eyes taking that libertie which was denied my tongue, it made her blush out of the knowledge that she understood those dumb orators, yet was she so cruel as not to take off her imposition. At last Amenia made me acquainted with her mothers sickness, but she knew not the cause; she desired me to go a­long with her to give her a visit, I was afraid to discover it to Amenia, by denying to go, and I knew my presence would do her hurt in consideration that I was the cause of it. I was very loth to do Clotuthe so much wrong as to discover her weakness to any, which made me go after two or three times invitation, wherein I could not deny Amenia. I was troubled though, least Clotuthe might discover her self by some action that my presence might cause; but my chiefest trouble was, least that visit might give her any en­couragement to persist in her love, or cause her to believe I would not be altogether averse from her, or might yield to that which was so odious to me. With this trouble I accompanied Amenia to Clotuthe's chamber, we found none there but that woman who brought me her letter, for Clotuthe desired few of her other womens companie, being all ignorant of the true cause of her grief. After Amenia had rendred her what she thought was required from her, and testified what share she bore in her egritude by many words [Page 61] full of sweetnesse and compassion, I approached her bed side, but with so great fear and trembling, that I could not express my self a great while, her colour went and came very often at my approach, which shew'd an extra­ordinary motion within her. 'Madam (said I after I had stood a while silent) I cannot yield to any in the world that superiority of having a more sen­sible affliction of your egritude than my self, and I cannot believe I injure truth if I say I feel little lesse dolor than your self. How joyful should I be! and how happy should I account my self, if by the sacrifice of my life the gods would recover you to your pristine estate, I should offer it with more content, than I ever shall receive while you are in this condition, and were your sickness depending upon my life only, this moment should be the last of your grief.

She understood these words, and perceiv'd what I meant by them, I saw they had rais'd an extraordinary colour in her face, and her eyes expressed the great desire she had to speak, but Amenia's presence deterr'd her, she was not more sorry than I was glad that she was there, but that subtle woman who knew her desire found means to draw Amenia to the window, and Melanthe who attended her stood at a distance, out of respect. Clotuthe glad of this opportunitie answered me softlie, but so as I could hear her distinctly. 'Eu­r [...]pedes (said she without looking me in the face, but hers was tinctured with [...]e [...]ion all over) I cannot reproach you for your virtue, nor call you cruel though you slay me; I am not ignorant what virtue is, though I have not the power to fol [...]ow it. It shames me to our-live a fault I have com­mitted against Lilibilis, my own pudor, and your virtue, by the over-ruling of that implacable tyrant Love, but I am so carefully watched, that I can­not gain an opportunitie to expiate the crime of Lilibilis his wife, by the victim of Clotuthe. I have confessed, O Euripedes, that I have loved you, I cannot deny it, and to my shame I must still own it, in that love I must die, the bonds of dutie were too weak to restrain me from letting you know it, and I should not have accounted it acceptable if you had been ignorant of it. I die Euripedes, and I die for you, or rather for the fault of loving you, if it can be imputed to me since the gods inspir'd it, and forc'd my inclinations to it. I know you are too generous to divulge it, and if the fault of Clotuthe might give you an occasion to do it, yet the love you bear Lilibilis will restrain you. After a little respite; Your heart cannot be capable of pity, (continued she) no, no, Euripedos, let me die to ease my self of that pain which is insufferable, but I do not believe you desire I should live, since you alone are the cause of it. Her tears stopping the rest of her words, she gave me time to answer her. O Madam (said I) I have told you, and do again, that I never had more affection to do you service than now I have. and shall ever retain it, so long as my honour may not be ble­mish'd, nor the precepts of vertue broken. I value not the expiration of my life could it ease you, and you should soon see it pour'd out at your feet, did I think it would be pleasing to you, but I will, ah I will leave this place, this place so affected by me, since I am the cause of your disrepose, and it may be my absence may give you that again, which my presence hath rob'd you of; Madam, with this resolution I leave you, seeing I can no other­wise ease you, I will not be guilty of the expiration of that life, which with my own I should account a happiness to preserve.

With this making a low obeisance I was about to depart, when Clotuthe, looking upon me, with an aire full of affliction. 'O Euripedes (said she) slay me not immediately, nor be the cause of a sudden and unavoidable precipitation, you say you will obey me in all things wherein virtue gives you leave, let me then demand, intreat and implore your stay, depart not, for if you do, that moment shall be the last of my life. The fault of Clotu­the [Page 62] is alreadie enough to her husband, without aggravating it by the ba­nishment of him on whom Lilibilis puts all his considence, for the keeping of our liberties and our lives. I had but time to tell her that since she commanded my stay I would obey her, and that I would sacrifice my life for their general good, since she would not receive it as an oblation to sa­tisfie her for the crime I had made her precipitate her self into by my pre­sence, when Amenia came to me and to my joy hindred all other commu­nication. I was not sorry she had commanded me to stay, for I could not have departed without leaving my life behind me, and thereby she would have taken a more cruel revenge than if with her own hand she had given me my death. We had but little more discourse before we departed, lea­ving her to her afflictions.

Amenia had sent to Lilibilis to let him understand of the sickness of Clo­tuthe, he bore her a real affection, and that was the cause he came before he was lookt for, I was extream joycus for his return, as well for the love I bore him, as that I hoped his presence would deter Clotuthe in the pursuit of her illicit Love. Lilibilis expressed a hearty sorrow for her egritude, and em­bracing her with a tender affection, expressed his trouble by melting words, the exhibiting of so ardent an affection made me in my thoughts extreamly vituperate Clotuthe for the wrong she had done him. Lilibilis made me ac­quainted that the result of their meeting was to oppose the Romans as they had done the last Summer, and to assist one another as opportunity should serve. Antistius was drawing his forces together, and as we heard by our spies that he intended to march against us, with all the speed he could. This made Lilibilis to take the field that he might not be prevented by his e­nemie, and gave order, to his chief Captains to appear at the Rendezvouze with that celerity as their case required. I was then strong enough to bear arms, & found my self as well able as ever to do Lilibilis service, and I long'd to be in the field, that I might be free from the supplications of Clotuthe's woman, who still persecuted me, though I am perswaded it was unknown to Clotuthe, and that it was either hope of reward or compassion on her, who continued in her sickness, that made her seek to effect her desires, but she still found me inexorable, as also that I might render more proofs of my af­fection to Amenia, from whose presence and sweet conversation I received comfortable to make me bear that silence impos'd upon me with much pati­ence, especially when I consider'd it was Amenia's command, and that it was a character of my affection, and would be look'd upon so by her. But when I thought of departing it was with a most sensible affliction, and in­supportable, had it not been for the service of Lilibilis, and for particular in­terests in serving Amenia. She assured me afterwards that she entertain'd the thought of my separation as the cruelest displeasure that could have hap­pned, and had no lesse grief for it than my self. Her goodness was pleas'd to [...]nde something pleasing in my conversation, and her love had tyed her to me inseparably, and now she saw me ready to be ravisht from her, and it may be never like to return, but receive a death in her service, she could not but almost evaporate her soul through the sighs and tears that she shed. What (said she) shall Euripedes lose a life, a life so dear to me? since I love him, since I have prov'd his, and that with the hardest proofs, why should I not confess it to him? it may be it will make him more careful of it when he knows he cannot lose it without endangering mine; it may be it will so a­nimate him, that it may be some conducement to make him returne con­queror over out insulting foe: deter it no longer scrupulous Amenia, let him know thou acceptest of his affection. These motions on my behalf were oppos'd by those of her severity, they represented her more criminous by that action than by loving me, and that she could not do it without offending [Page 63] against her severity, and her duty, knowing her father had destin'd her for a­nother. The [...]e conflicts wholly agitated her minde, she resolving upon nei­ther when the last day was come wherein Lilibilis intended to take his leave. A little before this last dayes approach I exhibited the afflictions of my heart by that trouble which appear'd in my face, and by it Amenia read the greatnesse of my affection and of my sorrow. She saw my life was ready to leave me at this separation, and yet I endur'd her imposition with a patience not to be equal'd, but by my affection, and that I had resolv'd to die rather than to break it: this consideration wrought a compassion, joyn'd with her love, that made her resolve to give me leave to take my leave of her in pri­vate, but she was not resolv'd to make known any affection to me. Me­lanthe let me know the favour Amenia intended to do me, and truly in spight of all my trouble, this favour gave me a real consolation. Lilibilis intend­ing to depart very early the next morning; considering the illnesse of Clo­tuthe be would not disturbe her repose so early, therefore he took his leave of her that night: I was resolv'd not to take my leave of her alone, least it should have engag'd her into a discourse which I was not willing to hear.

After Lilibilis had taken his leave of her with words and actions full of af­fection, and not without many teares, I [...]pproached her bed (which she still kept) and with my ordinary Civilities took my leave. Lilibilis his presence lockt up her mouth, but her eyes shewed she resented that action, and that she saw I purposely made use of that time, to avoid her reproaches. Go Euri­pides (said she at last) triumph over those enemies, and spare them not that would rob Lilibilis of his right, it grieves me that I shall not live to have a share in your glory. I knew she particulariz'd her self, but the answer I re­turn'd her, could give her no light that I understood her so. I made her a very low obeysance, and left her, but Lilibilis hearing her speak of death cast himself again into her armes, from which embraces I saw he was not likely soon to depart, and having heard he had before bid his Daughter farewell, my impatiencie made me immediately depart to Amenia's Chamber, whether I alwayes had a free access. She had disposed her self to receive me kindly, and had none but Melanthe with her, I entred not without trembling, for fear I should break at last what was impos'd upon me. Assoon as I saw her I cast my self at her feet, and embracing her knees fully transported, I was not able to utter one word, I remained some time in that posture, till my ingemi­nated sighs had clear'd the passage for some words. Madam (said I) this favour is so glorious, and so far beyond the merits of Euripedes that it hath over and above satisfied for all trouble, teares and sighs, which the most violent of passions, and most severest of Commands have afflicted me with: Ah, how glorious a recompence I find! But, may I Madam (continued I trembling and shewing that fear which possest me, by my eyes, and faultring of my speech) may I have leave to break that—. I could not go on through the appehen­sion I had of offending her, but casting down my eyes I exhibited my shame, for going about to transgresse. Amenia's silence gave me liberty to lift up my eyes full of teares to hers, which I saw fix'd intensively upon mine, and to proceed thus. Consider Madam (ushering them with a sigh) I am going whether the Gods only know if I ever may return; nay, I shall account it no disaster, but a glory to die in the service of Amenia. If I am troublesome to her, or if I have offended her, my death will be most welcome, in [...]hat it will take me from the world wherein I have no life but what I enjoy by her pre­sence; rewarding me for my presumption, it will deter a farther arrogancy, and through her goodnesse may expiate that crime I have committed in aspi­ring to love her, but with so much purity, that the Gods themselves could not be capable of more pure affections: and if my death content her, it will also [Page 64] content me, being her Joy and her Grief are inseparably mine. But if Ame­nia will out of her goodnesse, not regarding the meannesse of my merits, let me not to be so indifferent to her, as to desire my death, but rather that I should return in safety, that also confirm'd by her fair mouth, will give me this comfort if I die, that Amenia not regarding my presumption, in exhibiting my passion, had out of her abundant goodnesse pitied me, and not seen my death without regret, this will be glory enough for Euripides, with that of dying in her service, and would give him no other cause of trouble but that of leaving her. Ah Madam! (vehemently sighing again) have I not observ'd your Com­mands hitherto, though more terrible than death? how far easier had it been for me to have died, then to have observ'd this silence you have impos'd upon me! must I still?—(stopping a little, then with a supplicating Air) and must I depart without telling you—I dar'd not to proceed, but stopping with a fear that seis'd me, least I had proceeded too far, and should abuse the favour she did me, I fell into a trembling that made her extreamly pity me. My passionate words accompanied with more passionate actions, and gestures not to be expressed, but by those whose passions inspire them naturally, rais'd so great compassion comitated with that great Love she bore me, that made her say more than she had intended; and forc'd her severity to give place. I cannot but admire considering the vehemency of her passion, (which she protested to me afterwards) that she had been so long Mistris of it. Observing the trouble I was in, and being mollified with compassion, she rais'd me from my knees with these words: Euripedes, I have bid thee already hope that thou maist not be indifferent to me, I do not yet forbid thee to hope it, and I think I have in some part exhibited it by this reception, though I confesse I owe more to the merits and services of Euripedes. Euripedes is going to conquer, Euripedes is going to expose his life against my foes, and to redeem our Liberty with the expence of his own blood; and could I do lesse than give Euripedes this favou­rable reception at his parting? I would not have Euripedes think I can take any content at the losse of a Life, which I have with all my abilitie endea­voured to save; No, think not Euripedes that I can part without trouble, and do not believe but the sweet conversation of Euripedes, hath gain'd too much upon my spirit, as not to make me extream sensible of his losse, nothing but the hopes of your return, with victory and more glory than ever, could mit­tigate a lawfull trouble for your departure, therefore by that power you say I have over you, I command you not to expose that Life to unnecessary dan­gers which shall be still priz'd by Amenia. I have not disregarded your obedience and you cannot utter more than you have done already: I can see that it con­tinues without your declaring it by words: what need you tell me you Love me, if I believe it? (These words tincted her cheeks with a new Vermillion, but she went on without stop) I have bid you hope, and were I not prohibited by the Lawes of Duty, I would say more, what can you desire of me Euripe­des, is not this sufficient? She uttered these words with her wonted sweetnesse, which wrought that effect upon my soul, as you Argelois being so deeply touch't with this passion, may conceive in the like case. They had cast me in­to extraordinary Raptures, and I hardly remembred what I did, but casting my self at her seet; though she sought to hinder it. Ah Madam (said I) I shall find a very different death from what my sorrows would have caus'd. If I expire now it will be in the greatest content in the world, and will hinder me from seeing any more trouble: and were not my Joy mittigated, with the conside­ration of leaving you, it would so exceed, that it would work the same effects as a killing sorrow. Alasse, what is Euripedes that you should have thus feli­citated him? with a more sensible happinesse than if the Gods had plac'd him among themselves? I cannot fear my enemies now, were I to encounter with the whole world. Amenia forc'd me to rise, and shedding some teares: I [Page 65] know not, Euripedes (said she) what it is that thus afflicts me, but I never felt a sadder heart in all my life; and I cannot but fear that this parting will prove satall. I cannot but fear I shall never see Euripedes more; but let me once more entreat you not to precipitate your self into danger, and check the exorbitancy of your courage by your Love, and by remembring that I impose it upon you, and that I have desir'd to see you return, for the encouragement whereof I tell you again, my self will endeavour for your happinesse in all things wherein I am not prohibited, by the precepts of duty, virtue and ho­nour. Madam (replied I, bowing almost to the ground) think not but I shall obey your Commands, and with more care observe them than those of the Gods themselves, and I question not but you can raise me to farre greater happinesses then they can without you. You have had so much trial of my obedience, that you cannot justly doubt but that I will lose my life a hundred times (were it possible) sooner than fail in observing them; especially when they are so glorious, and contribute so much to my own happinesse. You need not fear that the power of the Roman [...]s is able to take away this life, since you have been pleas'd to conserve it, and with it you have given me so great animosity, that I need not fear but victory will attend me. At the finishing of these words Amenia entring a little Closet, faut out a blew Scarse with a very large fair fringe, all wrought with Gold and Silver, in flowers and other curious work (partly wrought by her self and partly by Melanthe) bringing it in her hand; here Euripedes (said she) wear this for a remembrance of what you owe me. I received it upon my knee, with a world of satisfaction: Madam (said I) you are too deeply insculpted on my heart to need any remembrancer, and I am too great an observer of your commands to forget them. I will re­ceive this as the most glorious of gifts, and esteem it above my Life since it comes from the hand of my adored Amenia. In receiving it I kissed it, and being filled with Raptures I cemented my lips to that fair hand, and gave it some most ardent suaviations. She permitted it a little, but believing I trespassed too much upon her modesty she withdrew it, and raising me up, Go Euripedes (said she) and conquer where ever thou comm'st, and where it is not lawful for thee with thy Armes, use thy Virtue and none can withstand you. These words made me blush, but I answered: Madam, I can­not fear to lose the Victory since you have bid me conquer? but I shall not glory in all the Victories the Gods can give me, or in being a greater Conque­rer then Alexander, so much as in being your Captive, aye there lies my hap­pinesse, and there lies my glory. After these words I took my leave, and I saw some teares drop from Amenia's fair eyes at my deceding, which gave me a consolation not to be uttered, and that night I spent in the con­templation of my Happinesse, where I had spent many in that of my mi­series.

I have been longer than I thought to have been (continued Euripedes) in the relation of my Amoretta's: but the great content I receiv'd in them then, hath conserv'd them fresh in my memory to this day, though I have pass'd troubles enough since to oblitterate them: if I had had no worser suc­cesse in the latter than in the former I might not perchance have been so op­posite to Love; but those Aerumnal Loves far different than the former, re­ctified my reason, and made me see with clearer eyes than those of a Lover. Love they say is a most noble passion and leads one to most generous actions: true, if you consider it without that effect of it desire; whilst that it interest's not it self in any thing, but solely loveth the obiect because it is lovely; tru­ly then it is noble, it is free, and all actions that it produceth are truly gene­rous; but if you take Love as most do, though you consider it in those whose Virtues were never blemish't by it, yet all those actions they exhibit to the world, which may seem most generous, and most noble, are neverthelesse ser­vile [Page 66] and abject, whilst desire as an inseparable accident accompanies their Love, and makes those actions of seeming generosity to be but the effects of their own desire, and in all they do, serve their own ends. I do not make mention of those whose Loves carry them to base ends, being converted to Lust, and to do things odious to them in their right reason: youl say, that none that are virtuous can be led to such actions: whilst that Virtue lasts I con­fesse they cannot, but I believe, and know by experience, that this passion whereon we treat is able to stifle the motions of Virtue, and to insinuate those of Vice, and make those persons do that which being clear from this passion, they would detest, and which could not be attributed to their natures but to the enforcement of their passions. Some I know, whose Virtues are Eminent, do not yield in the least to their passion but overcome it by their Virtue; and though they Love, they cannot be said to be subjugated by it, be­cause it is subordinate to their Virtues. I do not speak this without reason, and this small digression may be some preparative to what I shall relate: for, in my first Loves I acted nothing against the precepts of Virtue; but after­ward, whether my passions were more violent, or lesse pure, they drew me into actions, that made me justly hate both my self, and that passion which was the cause of them; which when you have heard, though it may not make you hate a passion so deeply setled in you, yet it may excuse my aversion; in that it caus'd me to do actions so detestable and unworthy of my self, which hath drew thousands of teares from my eyes, for some small expiation of my follies. But I would not have you think I am an enemie to Love rightly stated; for Love is the purest spark of the soul, and that which illustrates the whole man, and I may truly say that it is the fountain of all good, and with­out it man were not man: so the want of it is the chiefest cause of all evil. But by this I mean that Love which never introduced any desire, but being an emanation of the gods, acts it self to that which is most pure, and doth most partake of its essence; and I cannot call this a passion but a fire taken off from the altar of the Gods; communicating nothing but what is most pure and Ce­lestial, and making the possessor of it like to the Gods themselves. In this our two Geniis find a great matter of Contestation, for if the one inspire it, or rather the Gods, and that seek to preserve it, our black Daemon endea­vours to subvert it, and knowing that it is apt to work upon what is fair and like it self, it exhibites beauty and formositie, and then stirring up a sensual desire contaminates that lustre, and almost suffocates that which is the very life of all generous actions. Since I have retired into this solitude, I have had time to Contemplate this and many other things, both of the nature of Love, and the effects, and have learn't to separate the drosse from the Gold: I might declare more of it, but I read an invitation in your face to the prosecution of what is unfinish't, concerning my life, and in the end you may perchance perceive that this discourse was not unnecessarie. Argelois would willingly have represented his thoughts concerning Love, but being more desirous to hear the end of his Love and Adventures: he favour'd his prosecution with his silence, and heard him proceed thus:

I shall be very succinct in my following narration, therefore I shall not give you the particulars of this Summers War: only tell you, that which can­not be omitted without impairing my Relation.

The next morning very early we left Austurica, and came to the Randez­vous within a short time being hard by the River Astura, where we encamp­ed: there was a great appearance of the Astures, who shewed a great pro­pensity, to defend their liberties with their lives, and resolved to fight to the last man. The Cantabrians and Gallicians were as forward as we, and the conquering Romanes were not behind us, who were encamped at Sigisama. The Romans [Page 67] had had a very sharp and fierce War of it, and resolving to finish it this Summer, they had filled up their Legions with their valiant men, and many stout Commanders. Lanium, a Roman Captain marched with his Troops to­wards the Gallicians, where they had many fierce Encounters, and though they were helped by the Vo [...]caeans, and spared not for courage to defend themselves, yet were they fain to run the fortune of the Conquered, and to yield their lives to the invincible Romans. Many of those Barbarians be­ing besieged on the Mountain Medullius, and seeiing a necessitie that th [...] must either yield to their Enemies, or die by their swords, they unanimou [...] [...]rn'd their armes against themselves, and by sundry deaths, depriv'd [...] Conquerors of that glory, In the mean time Antistius, and Firmius oppress'd the Cantabrians, who though they were the most formidable of all Spain, [...]ell continually under the swords of the conquering Romanes: But the fero­sitie of that people made the Romans to win those Victories with much blood, both of themselves and their Enemies, who oftentimes despising a profer'd life, they shew'd how much they lov'd their liberty, by a voluntarie death. The Romans had not so easily gain'd that Countrey, if they had not oppressed them with a Fleet of Ships, which they had transported from Gaule, for seeing it otherwise impossible to have subdu'd them, they with a very great Fleet oppress'd them by Sea. The Cantabrians having lost many Victories, and many men, and all their chief Townes taken, they were fain to stoop to that yoke which the Romanes had impos'd on all the world.

Whilst these things were a doing on each side of us, you must not imagine us idle, or that we had not as sharp afflictions as the rest. Carisius, to whose lot it fell to contest with us, was not encamped far from us. We had at that time a very great Army, composed of very stout and valiant men, and at least 5000 Astercones, which did great service in their battels, whose velocitie much troubled the Roman Legions in all their Encounters: for, disordering them with a sudden decursion, they assoon drew off with little hurt to themselves. We had often called the chief of the Armie to Counsel, that we might not be wanting of Policie as well as valour to defend our selves, and that we might not take in hand any thing rashly, and without the advice of the most experienc'd Souldiers; For the want of good Councel is oft-times the overthrow of the most valiant, when with temeritie they undertake any design. Those actions I had perform'd the Summer before were not forgotten by them, and they did me the honour to call me to all Councels, and to cede very much to what I said. Indeed the provocations of my love, with a desire that I had to return to Amenia, made me extreeamly desirous to expedite this War; and therefore my councel was all for battel or some other valorous Stratagem, that might soonest put a period to it: and in this I did not lack followers among so many valiant and hardy men. I at last proposed the attacquing of the Romans in their Camp; for that I understood by Spies, that they were very secure, not being accustomed to meet with so much valour, as to dare to un­dertake such an Enterprize. I backed my proposition with many reasons which I now remember not, but at last it prevailed with them being all very stout men, and desirous of action. For this end the Armie was tripartited, one part was led by Lilibilis, the other by Gurgulinis a very valiant Captain, and the third they honour'd me with. With great secresie we marched three several wayes, that we might surprize them on all side [...] with the more aston­ishment, and we came so suddenly, and were so neare them before we were discovered, that we had almost effected our design, which shewed our valour that we ventured to undertake so difficult an Enterprize. However, we put the Romans into great fear, and had we not been discovered without doubt we had defeated them, but they had so much time as to embattel themselves, [Page 68] and to meet us without their Camp: Neverthelesse, they found us assured in our countenances, and they were fain to animate themselves with the re­membrance of their former Victories to keep up their spirits. We met with an impetuositie that admits of no comparison, where hundreds of men found their deaths at the first Encounter, Lilibilis and Gurgulinis on each side met with the like resistance, and on all sides the Camp was nothing but blood and slaughter.

I will not go about to describe a battel to you, who I know have acted your part in many bloody ones: but I am perswaded the Romans never met with a more fierce and stout resistance. The earth was soon cruented, and spread all over with dead bodies, whilst heaps of men lay groaning out their last, which could not be heard through the noise of the clattering of their Weapons. It was a dismal fight to behold how horror ranged throughout the Field, and with what animositie each side receiv'd their deaths. The stre­nuitie of the Astercones was very usefull, but neither that, nor the generall valour of the Souldiers, nor the particular actions of the Commanders, (a­mongst which my self may without vanitie boast in having twice unhorsed Ca­risius) could keep the invincible Romans from the Victorie, though she had long hung in suspence, being accustomed to light on the Roman standards, she so well knew her wonted residence, that she resided there more out of cu­stom, then that the valour of the Astures did not deserve her. Alas, the Genii of the Barbarians were too weak for those of the Romans, and I can attribute their gaining of that Victorie to nothing else, or their good fortune. Yet the Romans had little cause to rejoyce for their Victorie, being gain'd with so great losse, and blood on both sides: for the remain­ders of both, could not make up half the number of one party before they met. We were not ignorant what was done on each side the Camp: for we soon knew, we all ranne the like fortune, and that the same resistance on every side had caus'd the same internecation.

I had trouble enough at the losse of this Victory, but a new surcharge more afflicted me, when I heard that Lilibilis was slain upon the place; besides the affection that I bore the man, I had some cause to doubt that Amenia would vituperate me for his losse. Gurgulonis with his partie put himself into Lancia, whilst I made my retreat with mine to the Mountaines: I got some to accompanie me, and adventured, (when the Romans were re­treated into their Camp) to fetch off the body of Lilibilis, and first be­stowed many teares (due to him, as being my Entertainer, as being the Fa­ther of Amenia, and as being the valiant and noble Lilibilis); Having first I say bestowed these teares upon his dead corpes, which had received many wounds, I sent it to Asturica, to Clotuthe and Amenia, and with it this Letter.

I gave those men a charge that went with the body of Lilibilis to tell Clotuthe and Amenia, that I could not leave those few men the Gods had left me, to come to comfort them in their affliction without apparent danger of losing the Countrey and abandoning all to the Enemy, and that I preserv'd my life only to do them service. Whilst they went with that sorrowfull spe­ctacle to Asturica; I gather'd up the scattered forces that were left and retired to the Mountaines, which kept us very safe and secure. Carisius sent a party after us, whilst himself went to beleaguer Lancia. Those that follow'd us found that we were resolv'd enough, and being gotten among strong Bulwarks, we often fallyed forth upon them to their great disadvantage, and though they far exceeded us in number, yet could they not gain any advantage over us: I would have perswaded my men to have hazarded a battel, but I could by no meanes bring them to it, because the Romans exceeded them. They often at­tempted in vain, to enter our holds and to beat us thence, but they lost their men, without effecting the least against us. This made them leave us and retire to Carisius, who wanted their help to besiege Lancia, where he found notable resistance, we fallied out upon their Rear, and very much endamag'd them, but we were fain to retire to the Rocks again for to secure our selves, being so few in number, and not able to oppose any considerable body, with­out the help of those Sconces.

In this part of his relation, he was interrupted by the bringing in of Sup­per, and after they had taken that repast, Euripedes led Argelois into a Chamber very well furnish'd, which he had appointed for his Lodging. Ar­gelois desiring him to finish his Relation, for that it was not very late, and that he had no desire to sleep, He, as willing to satisfie his guest as might be, placed himself between Lonoxia and him, and after recollecting himself he pro­ceeded.

THE HISTORIE of LONOXIA.

IT is a vanity (not to be born) of some continually to Jactate of the the antiquity, glory, and opulency, of their Ancestors, whereby they fill themselves like so many full-blown-bladders, and become a foot ball for the calcations of the wise. Virtue not birth or riches at first wan the prize of Glory, but their successors thought it enough to weare their badg without making themselves worthy of it, glorying that their predecessors had been thus and thus, So that greatenesse is now of the highest esteem and virtue little regarded, it being pretense enough for some to obnubilate their own vices, by exhibiting the vertue of their ancestors.

To avoyd this crime therefore, I will not stand to declare, ether the an­tiquity, opulency, virtue, or vices of my parents, thereby either to hide my vices with their virtues, or to set off any virtue of mine by their vices. But indeed the Gods favoured me with an honourable birth, though they have disfavoured me with a wretched Life. The country of Mauritania Tingitana claimes my Birth and Education, and more particularly the town of Lixus. The antiquity of our house was there well known, which I wave as a thing frivolous for the furtherance of virtue. My fathers name was Marcipsius brother to King Bogadus who unhappily fell under the sword of the renowned Agrippa, at the battel of Actium, takeing the part of in­felicit Antony. I had two brothers elder than my self, the eldest was nam'd as my father, the other was call'd Massanissa. I was but young at that time when my uncle Bogadus was slain, and my father not affecting those glorious cares of a Crown, (the war immediately following) he kept close in Lixus without med­ling in those broyles.

But my brother Marcipsius being of a stirring nature went into Aegypt till the war being ended, with the death of Antonius, when returning he hop'd to attain the crown, but being oppos'd; there grew great broyles which last­ed for some years, till Marcipsius was driven out of Africk, where he was ab­sent from us three years. At last Marcipsius returns and tells us of many strange occurrents that had hapned to him in Spain and other places, our parents were full of Ioy for his safe arival, whom they had feared had been Lost. I was now arrived at 15 years of age, and began now not to fear the [Page 118] Envie of my brothers, for I being the darling of my mo [...]her, and the cheif depositum of her affections, whilst I was little it procur'd their Envie, and that megre squint-ey'd hagg sufflateing that fire in their breasts, increas'd it as I grew in years: For the Gods propitious to my studies made me sur­passe them in all literature, and in the arts and sciences, recompensing my young yeares with great knowledg. I would not boast my self of these things, or glory in such vanities, yet it is requisite that I acknowledg the favour and benevolence of the Gods, seing it is at their pleasure to give either knowledg, or strength to whom they please. But however that my studies chain'd me within dores, yet had I a peculiar inclination to the actions of Mars, and I thought Mars and the Muses would do very well together, and as soon as I arrived at this age of puberty, it exhibited my great desire to armes, which my father, (being carefull to further my inclinations, as far as they tended to virtue) perceiving, provided excellent tutors for me, together with my brother Massanissa, we learnd under one master who sought impartially to Instrct us, and to imbue us with the best of his skill, but in that martiall discipline I did precell, which augmented his hatred and made it implac­cable, I often found it in many injuries and affronts which I had borne all my life time patiently enough, but now I could no longer resent them, es­petially when I saw both of them desir'd no lesse than my Life, such are the in­spirations of Envy, that anothers prosperity is their plague, and anothers ruin their delight though nothing accrews to them thereby. I had pretty well found the use of my weapons, and could use with them dexterity enough, either for defence or opposition, when Marcipsius returned out of Spain, Marcipsius hating me no lesse than Massanissa, sought all occasions of quarreling, and under pretence of trying me at my weapons would endeav­our to take away my Life, and sometimes would put me to my shift to save it, and to come off with considerable wounds. Having been dealt withall so once or twice, I took heed how I fell into their clutches and avoy­ded all occasions I could of offending them, useing those advantages the Gods had given me, with as much modesty and humility, as could be required. I sought with meeknesse to overcome their envie, but alas! it was too strong for Love to Conquer. I dayly found it to encrease, and the Injuries that I receiv'd were allmost innumerable, inso much that it defatigated my patience, and made a Tedium of my life.

But now the time was come wherein my unlucky hand freed my self of these miseries, but involv'd my self in far worser dolors; one day which was very inauspicate, Massanissa being with me in a garden adjacent to our house, upon some small differnce between us about Casting of our darts, stroke me a box on the eare, adding some Stimulating speeches: which provokement bannisht all former fear and naturall Love, filling me with wrath and disdaine. My passion blinding my reason, gave me no liberty to thinke into what precipices I slung my self, but drawing my sword I shew'd him it was impossible for me any longer to take his affronts. Massanissa not declineing this unnaturall combate, opposed me with his sword, and expressed a desire to end all quarrels with a duell. We both pro­secuted this fight with strange fury, no hatred being so strong as that between brothers, yet had I had ever so little respite my reason would have overcome my passion, but this duell was soon Consummated, for at the third thrust I passed my sword thorow his body, tumbling him dead at my feet. Then, and not till then, did I consider what I had perpetrated, Remorse, straight ways seized upon me, and Repentence converted my eyes before dry'd with anger, and flaming with wrath, into standing pooles, which over­flowing discharg'd themselves into Rivers of tears, all the faculties of my soul were now turn'd into grief, all ceasing their operations to give this the [Page 119] more scope, At last seeking to revive him with the eyes of pity, I cast my self upon him, mingling teares of repentence with his crimson blood, and washing his wounds with those distillations, addressing vaine implorations for forgivenesse, whilst he expir'd in my armes. When I saw that he had yeilded to fate, new considerations unlockt new springs, till the excesse of grief had froze those currents to my cheekes, and had as it were converted me into a marble statue, wherein was neither life nor motion.

In this posture my father and my brother Marcipsius coming Casually into the garden found me, and seeing me at a distance, with one lying by me, approperated as to behold some novelty, but appropinquating they soon beheld that sad spectacle. So sudden and unexpected an in counter, put them into an astonishment, and takeing away the faculty of Speech, left them no power, but by their eyes to demand the cause of his death. My Conscience interpreting the dum language of their eyes, I cast my self at the feet of my father and with out excuses, punctually and truely, related what had hapned betwixt us. Marcipsius not more sorry for the death Massanissa than glad that I had slaine him, that the wrath of my father might immolate me to the Ghost of my brother, stimulated him to excecute his resentments immediately upon me, who provoked equally with his words and passion devaginated his sword to have slain me. But I, startled to see death appear in the hand of him who gave me life, consented to the present motion of my spirits, and fled the furie of his wrathfull hand. Wrath invigorating his ancient limbs, made him follow me with nimble strides, but yet my velocity left him behinde some paces, and fear made me too nimble for winged death, who carrying me into the armes of my mother made her prove the Coale of Life. For meeting her at the entrance into the house I cast my self at her feet. As you have been the author of my being (said I) so now it is you only can preserve it, but that I cannot begge, seeing I have been the distruction of anothers in whom you had a maternal interest, suffer me only to disburden my Life at your feet—, the approach of my father, stifled the rest of my wordes; my mother agast at this incounter could not reply, but trembling in this astonishment, she stood till the exceeding love she bore me excited her for my safety, assoon as she saw at whom the wrath of my father extended. Casting her self therefore at his feet, she so strictly embraced his knees, that she stopt his further pursute, and overcame his strugling, with her strickt embraces, mingling her tears with plaintive words, and those with such overcom­ing gestures, that she stifled his fury, and made him withhold his eger revenge, to give her an account of what had hapned, biding her not to retard that Justice he ought to inflict upon a murtherer. Her tears stop­ped her words for some time, both in consideration of Massanissa's losse, and my danger, but at last to appease his wrath, still embraceing him on her knees, she sought to mitigate him with implorative words to this effect. Ah sad disaster, Ah double misserie; wherein the blood of one Son must be the oblation for the blood of another! Ah! thinke you not my miserie great enough to lose one Son, but that I must see another also fall by the hand of his own father! Let my teares con­jure you to consider first, the action, before you perpetrate any thing in your wrath; for that cannot be done in justice which is ballanc'd by passion, for if you do it now, it is not so much for satisfaction of the Gods, as of your self and passion, and not so much in considerati­on of Justice, as for to fulfill the effects of your wrath. I will not in the least excuse his wicked perpetration, for I cannot have lesse inter­est in the death of Massanissa than your self, but yet in punishing Lo­noxia [Page 120] by death we shall augment our evil by a double losse, besides I find too much imbicility to withstand another surcharge which this un­natural slaughter will inevitably bring upon me, it will be impossible but that I shall make one in the Tragedy, therefore at least spare him his life and execute Justice by some way lesse severe, rather banish him, and disowne him for your son, than he being a son should be slain by the hand of a father, in which you will shew some mercy as a father, and yet not fail of the duty of a Judge. These and many other per­swasions her motherly affection emitted to save my life, which could not but overcome the heart of my father, had it been much harder, her words being accompanied with showers of teares, and her sighs seeming stops in the dolefull harmony of her words; and her actions harmonizeing with her plaintive voyce, alltogether sent forceable penetrations to the soul of Marcipsius, who ever bearing great love to my mother, could not en­tertaine them, without the exaction of some teares. But yet to be just, though he consented to spare me my Life, he commanded that I should immediately leave that Country, and see him no more, least my fight should instigate him to that which through the perswasions of my mother he had omitted. This was greif enough to my mother, and gave anxie­ties not to be known but by such who have had the like affection, and the like disasters. I soon understood the doome my father had pro­nounc'd which I receiv'd with the like welcome as I should have done my death, it was no small grief for me to leave my friends at that In­fant age, and to expose my self to all those dangers incident to those that traverse the world, being hardly yet freed from the tender cockering of a mother, but seeing it was inevitable I prepared for it with all the Courage and animosity my grief had left me, then indeed▪ being the time to try courage, when we are inviron'd with straites and difficulties. When evils force themselves upon us, we willingly endure some pain to avoyde greater, and of two inevitable evils it is Judgement to chuse the least, my mother alittle before I departed came to me, rather to hasten me than to stay me, Love seeming to act against it self, in causeing her to hasten that from her, which she desired extreamly to keep with her, but this she did, as it were, with a willing reluctancie, seeing it was the only means to preserve me from ruin, for my brother Marcipsius enraged that I had es­caped the furie of my father, and not content with my banishment, sought to instigate him against me, and himself endeavouring to have slain me, made my mother, fearing his maliciousnesse, to hasten me from his power. But in receiving her last embraces, the sleuces of her eyes being set wide open, there gusht forth so impetuous a stream, that I thought her life would have been dissolved in her teares, or that it would have expir'd through her eyes, which passion generating the like in me, ex­hausted all my remaining waters, powring them out to accompany her in her lachrymations. But at last the approach of the silent night en­forc't her to unlock her armes and free me from her Strict embraces, kissing my forehead with a dying f [...]rewell, for I left her rather dead than alive in the armes of her maids. Having thus left my mother without further stay I arm'd my self, and takeing that gold and jewels she had provided for me, I left the place of my birth, not admitting any one to accompany me, though many prest to have followed me. But by reason that it was night I remained in Lixus till the next day, in­tending to transport my self in the next ship that went out of the haven, not much careing into what quarter of the world it carried me.

Having wearied my selfe with the languishments of that night, I arose assoon as the bright day-bringer appeared in our Horizon, and going to [Page 121] the Haven I embarqu'd my self in a ship going into Spain, Which was not fuller fraught with passengers and commodities, than I with misery and woe. There is none that leave their native home, and travell into for­reign parts, and that expose them selves to the imminent dangers both of Sea and land; but that they shall finde that mutable power playing her capri­chioes upon their fortunes, sometimes adulateing them with successes contrary to their expectations, seeming to felicitate them with the fruition of the ut­most of their desires, that so they may receive the greater and more sensible misery, for the loss of that which we never had, cannot affect us so much as that which we have enjoy'd, and this she effects so suddenly that we receive as much dammage by the surprize, as by the losse it self; therefore we may very justly reflect when in prosperity, how soon we may be cast into adversity, and that when we are in the greatest adversity, there is still hopes of attaining as great prosperity, since there is nothing more contrary to fortune than to retain a man long in the same condition, whether it be good or bad, which equally Shares her benedictions and her execrations from the same mouth. So hath she delt with me in exhibiting strange vicissitudes in the series of my life, sometimes filling me with content, sometimes distracting me with dolors.

The ship wherein I went continued a happy course till she arrived at the port to which she was bound, which was to Olissippo a city standing at the mouth of the golden-sanded Tagus, there I disembarqu'd after a thousand prayers to the Gods to resent my miseries, and to ease me of my dolors, which were all consummated and buried in oblivion by a shaft from the quiver of the winged god.

After some few days being in the City, having quite tired my self with resenting my griefes, Curiosity inspir'd me with desires to see the City, and to view the insigne building and places thereof, also to refresh my body, lassated with the troubles of my soul. Consenting to this motion, I deambulated through the City, and endeavoured to satisfie my curiosity, and to divert my selfe with beholding all things observable or worth take­ing notice of. Having spent some howers in this perlustration I went out of the city, and walking along upon the banke of the Tagus within a bow shoote of the City where the river made a little Iland I observ'd a very spatious house to occupy one part, and fair groves and delicate gardens the other; it seem'd to be a very pleasant place and full of delight, the golden Tagus circumplectating its bankes, seemed to hugg it as its cheif­est glory. Whilst I stood under the shelter of some trees that grew by the river side observing the site of the house, and considering how delightfully nature had furnisht that amnick plot, I beheld a casement of the window to open, which stood just oposite to me, and casting up my eyes, I saw (though at a distance) a beauty which perstring'd them through the gard of the trees un­der which I stood. The distance of the place hindred the exact intuition of her, and obscur'd all those lineaments that rendred her exquisite, but neither that not the trees thorow which I look'd nor the interposition of the River could hinder those shafts that proceeded from her eyes, from transfixing my heart. Though I perceiv'd a naturall vivacitie in her eyes, yet her complection shew'd that affliction had rob'd her of her colour, and her eyes seem'd a little to shelter themselves behinde a cloude of sorrow, which yet was no hinderance to those winged shafts, but rather made way, my soul Sympathizeing with her grieved looks: Her Countenance was more than ordinary albious, yet it nad not utterly lost that tincture which makes a desireable mixture; which perswaded me that her palenesse was acquired either by greif or some other indisposition, and not naturall, which was confirm'd when I saw her make use of her hankerchiefe to catch the pearles that dropt from her eyes.

I almost lost my selfe in this intuition, and having so convenient a place [Page 122] and finding it so delightful, I sought to satiate my eyes with the food of beauty, but that (contrary to the nature of other aliment) instead of saturity, begat a greater esurition, & made my appetite increase with beholding.

But at last this delicate banquet withdrew it self, the Lady shutting the casement excluded my piercing eyes from that beloved Object. Sol begin­ning now to immerge himself in the Atlantick ocean I retired from that place, and with gentle steps retrod the path upon the bank of the river Tagus, extreamly affected with the intuition of that delicate (but unknown) Ob­ject: I found divers agitations in my spirits, which at I first took to be the or­dinary effects of divers beautifull objects, which have a certain oppera­tive virtue on a gentle soule, so that they can hardly be intuited without affection, and desire, all delectable and amiable objects being desireable in themselves, and especially to soules who are adapted to Love. My soul was too tender not to receive the impression of that venust exhibition, and not to be delighted with that Lovely object, but yet my former thoughts made me strive to stop the discursion of my Imagination, and to extin­guish the species of the object: but for all my endeavours it would still pre­sent it selfe to my fancy, and awake all the powers and faculties of my soule to an intense contemplation of that I endeavoured to discusse. Nor did time (the consumer of all things) annihilate this species, for in the space of a week I sound it got ground upon my will, and was become almost ha­bitual. I also perceived my former dolors decrease as this augmented, this begining to engrosse all the working of my fancie to it's selfe, So that at last I had quite lost or extinguished my former trouble. I was yet so simple as not to know how to denominate this passion, and I durst not think it was Love, being affraid of that monster which I had heard had precipitated so many soules, but in fine it grew so turbulent, and molestuous, that I knew not whether to thank the Gods for taking away the afflictions of my minde; or increpate them more for these new disquiets. But though these disturban­ces seemed greater than the other; yet were they mitigated with a kind of titil­lation or delight, which moderated the sensibility of them, and made as it were a kind of pleasure in the midst of paine, with an admirable mixture. Remaning in these disturbances I frequented every evening the place where I was first intoxicated, but I alwayes mist of my desir [...]s of seeing her, which did but beget greater ardencies. In the mean time, (having acquir­ed a perfection in the Spanish tongue, and divers, others especially the Ro­man before I came over) I made a disquisition to know who they were that dwelt in that amnick Ile, and after much search I understood that none in­habi [...]e [...] there but of the feminine sex, and that the Lady was a virgine and daughter to the prince of the Turditans, who since the reign of Augustus had lived (though not with so much Regality, yet with as much honour as for­merly) in the City Hispalis, situated upon the olive bearing Betis in the pro­vence of Batica: And that the ladies name was Atalanta who by reason of the great affection she bore to that place, and the desire she had to be se­questred from the sight of any but those of her house, was permitted by her father to inhabite there, when this was verified by the relation of divers that knew it, I found it exuscitate divers and contrary motions within me, which agitated all the faculties of my soul, and I found not more encouragements than disanimations for the placeing of my Love. I exhibited all the difficulties and precipices I could imagin to divert my selfe from this passion, but all was too weake to deturb it, insomuch that I was enforc't to cede to it's power and seek to feed that fire I could not extinguish. All the difficulties I resign'd to that power which had first wounded me, and relied only on his advantages who useth to effect things very repugnant, and over come all difficulties by his power. Under his banner then I placed my selfe, and with prayers I en­treated that Amorous god for aide.

Whilst I was agitated with this passion, I assiduously traversed the bankes of Tagus, and sedulously watched for an appearance of that bright Sun which had begot those restlesse desires. I oft circumvagated that Ile and left neither banke unvisited which stood opposit to it, still hopeing to attaine that desired sight; but her great seclusion made some weeks passe away without the attainement of that invisagement, which had left me almost bare of hopes. My sedulitie yet continuing, and frequenting that place as I used to doe; I sat me downe under the covert of certaine trees, tho row whose bows I had a favourable prospect to the house. At that time having long contemplated on divers things, leaning my head against the body of a tree I was sudden­ly deprived of the act of sense, resolving all my Imaginations into the King­dome of sleep; which acting upon the species of visible objects exsuscitated many pleasing dreames that held me past my wonted time of return, which was usually presently after Sol had left our Hemisphere. But awaking from the pleasing fancies of sleepe, I found that the night had begun to inherit the place of day, and faire Cynthia in her perfectest forme began to enlight­en the superficies of the waters with her refulgent beames. I was about to depart when a sudden noyse in the water surprized my eares, which made me circumspect to see what it might be: creeping without obstrepancie un­der the obumbrating boughs close to the banke of the river, I perceiv'd that it was the dashing of oares in the water that had reverberated the aire to my eares. The fulgency of Luna made every thing perspicuous on the river, so that I saw the remigers of the little boate which seemed newly to be put off from the little Island) were six virgins, whose tender armes performed that office very artificially, the water willingly giving way to their gentle strokes. At the head of the boate under a canopie of silke Sate two women for whose pleasure the others made many turns upon the water with their boat, to delight them with that aquatick recreation. I avidiously attracted the boate to­wards the shore with my eyes, believing one of them to be the same I had beheld with that perturbation that had accompanied me ever since. This un­expected incounter made me to watch the motion of the boate with great di­ligence, which at last came gliding down the stream close by the banke where I lay so that I perspicuously saw one of them to be a woman of great gravity, but imediatly leaving that object I cast my eyes upon the other whom I presently knew to be same faire one that had involved my soule into such perplexities. This sight caused a generall shivering through all my body, and I could not behold her without perturbation. I had little time by reason of the swiftnesse of the boate to behold those perfections, but by the dimme light of the Moon I saw they surpast those which I had before seen at a distance, and her Idea was more perfectly renewed in my soule; and with a more ab­solute power over my will. The boate being past a little beyond me was stayed against the banke by the force of the oares, and Atalanta with the other woman (which was her governesse) came on shore, the other awaiting their returne in the boate. When I perceived that they walked towards the place where I lay, least I should be discovered I prostrated my self on the ground amonst the thickest of the grasse and shrubs as grew there which sufficiently sheltered me from their eyes. Being layd in this order I cast my eyes through the divisions of the shrubs to behold the deambulation of Atalanta, who came with no vulger grace being upheld by the other woman. Her stature neither too low nor too procerous, the fashion of her clothes shewed she was in her night dresse, but they were such that with their nigritude set off the albitude of h [...]r countenance. Her body was shrouded under a garment of rich silke, the color being undiscerneble at that time, but it was made so long that trailing upon the grasse it might renew its verdue by the happy kisses of her garment; over her shoulders was slung a night mantle which was lined with [Page 124] the furs of delicate ermine, and in which she wrapped her armes as she wal­ked; the principall part of that rare composure was inveloped in a sable Ca­pitium which exhibited her face like bright Cinthia's, when surrounded with cloudes, and her eyes like two stars gave a luster where e're she went: their pace was but gentle, which favoured me with the more time for the intuition of the perfections of this dame; I perceiv'd they had entred into discourse before I could audite their words, but by their approach the harmony of her voyce began to strike my eare, and for that I hop'd to gather something by my curiosity out of their discourse, all the faculties of my soul contributed their powers to my eyes and eares, out of which ports she was almost attracted through the excesse of pleasure she received. But the words that in my hear­ing were form'd between those couralls I beheld, were to this effect. Ah mother, (said she answering to some thing the other had spoken) you who ought to be more severe, are too too lenitive to one so sinfull. But what comfort can I have, in liveing after such transgressions. Surely the Gods will pity me in taking away that life, which you will not permit to be offered as a libament to their indignation.

How often have you promised to yield your selfe to my tuitions (replyed her tutoresse) and how often have you promised not to afflict your self in this manner? The gods do not require so much grief at your hands, seeing you have unfeignedly repented, and if you doe more than they require that surplussage is by them unregarded, being we are not to be immoderate no not in the affli­ction of our selves for good. It is a sign of too great abjection not to be com­forted, and too much mistrusting the mercie and pity of the Gods, when you still retain such thoughts of their wrath. It is not the life they require but the heart, and that, through an unfeign'd repentance you have rendred into their hands, so that from this iniquity your good proceedeth, who else (it may be) would not have repented or implored their mercy, so wonderfull are their incomprehensible wayes that they even raise us to thrones of glory by the steps of sin, for trampling that under our feet we mount to their mer­cy seates, and it is a sign that they love them most to whom they forgive most iniquities; and what they forgive ought not to be remembred by us. A­talanta all that while prodigal of her pearls exhausted all the treasure of her eyes, which touching my heart with an inward sympathy, extracted moist tears, and scalding sighs, out of my inflamed breast. But she thus returned to her woman: you are alwayes the Gods messenger of peace, and you so much conscionate their benignity and miseration, that the remembrance of offen­ding such afflicts me more. I doe not doubt or mistrust their power, but how—They were so far transpast me that I could not hear her sequent words, but as they returned assoon as her words were articulate to my ear, I greedily lisned to these.—no no all men are false and I cannot believe any after the perju­ration of so many oathes and vowes: Is it not pity the Gods suffer such in­dignities unpunisht? This seclusion delights me most, and if ever I escape that danger wherein my folly hath precipitated me, I will never forsake this re­tirement, but end my dayes in the company of my maids, and will not so much as defile my eyes with the sight of that false sex; that wicked sex! since they build their wickednesses on our weaknesses. My father hath indulg'd me to live in this place, which I hope he will continue so long as I live, a thing most consentanious to my desires, and whereby I shall receive some felicity in that I live without renewing my sorrow by the sight of men. Come leave these discontents, (said the other) and do not deject your selfe, your ho­nour—they were again past so farr beyond me, and speaking soe submisse that their words dy'd before they came to my audition, so that this was all I heard of that ambiguous Colloquie. They at length reentered their boate which floated against the stream hard by the place where I lay, compelled to it [Page 125] by virgin-stroakes, which gave me opportunity to let my eyes take their fare­well of that rare object, and so to accompany her boate till it was arived on the other side, where it was admitted into a little Creek under the obum­bration of certain Osiers.

I had no sooner lost the sight of the boat, that carried away the object of my fancie, but as it were awaking out of a pleasing dreame I began to recogi­tate the words I heard, and so set the Image of that new-lost object before my Imagination, that I might consider the particular perfections of it, which I was incapable of before, through the intention of my soule upon the whole. But in recounting the words I had heard I could not find out the cause of that Ladyes affliction, but that it was some great Injury that she had receiv'd from some barbarous one of our sex, which made her so out of Charity with all men, but I was resolv'd to repair that breach with the truth, obedience and affecti­on I had vow'd to serve her with.

There was no room left now for any doubt or opposition to my love, this second invisagement had totally overcome me, and all my thoughts were now busied in contrivances which way to serve her, but that I found so difficult, by reason of her seclusion, and what I had learn'd out of that interrupted dis­course, of her great aversion to men, that I was even almost past the bounds of hope. I set all my thoughts on the wrack of invention, where I endea­voured to extend them to some happy result, but I had no sooner accepted this project, but either some difficulty or something more convenient dasht it; and it may be whilst I was considering on that, diverse unseen objecti­ons suddenly starting up made that also of no effect, I spent good part of my thoughts, and good part of the night in such none effectuall projections, till at last remembring my self I arose, and bid farewell to that place that had fa­voured me with the happy and long'd for intuition of Atalanta.

I had not gone many paces before I heard a whispering which in the silent night beat the aire up the river to my eares: The last evenement; and good for­tune that I received by my curiosity; made me to forgoe no occasion of furthering my fortunes by those private auditions. Standing still to listen af­ter those confused voyces that I heard, I could not hear any thing distinctly but the repetition of my own name, which amazing me made me think it the il­lusion of my fancy, for I had not communicated it to any in the City, and I was utterly unknown to them all, but the noise still continuing I mov'd softly that way under the umbration of the boughs that adorned the bankes of the Tagus. At last I perceived that the susurration had proceeded from the intermixing voyces of a man and a woman, who stood talking close under the wall of the City. I was now got close enough to understand what they said & lying upon the ground hid from their eyes by the procerous grasse I heard words to this effect. Come (saies the man) let's nor stay any longer, least we be suspected, we may effect it to morrow night well enough. But what (saies the woman as I thought) if Lonoxia, should have discovered us? There's no fear of that (sayes the other) he knows us not, and this was mere chance that he was from home this night. It was well for him (reply'd the other) I had soon dispatch him else; we must not misse the next nights oportunity, lest he leave this place, which might cost us a world of paines to finde him againe, and we must doe it before we return or else Marcipsius will hang us for our paines.

I do not care (said the other) how soon it be effected that we may return and receive our reward, for I tell you truly that I do it for no affection to him, but for that which he promised if we effect it, and when I have received that, if another will give me as much Ile serve him the same sauce. You need not fear (says the other) but he will be a master good enough, Lonoxia wont be the last that he will desire to rid out of his way, his father is a hindrance to be [Page 126] his ambitious thoughts, it may be Atropos may lend us her sheeres to cut the thred of his life, I have all wayes (sayes the other wicked one) that may be to rid men of the burden of their lives, those that fall under my hand seldome know who hurts them, but the best way to rid him will be by the art of venesicium. But talke no more you pretty counterfit impe disvest, Lonoxia will never suspect you under that habit. Whilst I lay confounded at what I had heard from these assasins, that countersit uncloath'd himselfe of his womanish apparell, haveing under the habiliments of a man, a long skene hid under his vestments. Those garments that he had put off, he bund­led up and put them into a vacuous hole in the wall, placeing some loose stones at the mouth, which assoon as they had done they both departed, before I had power to awake my selfe out of the confusion their wicked intentions had cast me in; and the assasinous intent of Marcipsious, who was not con­tent with my banishment but also must play the fratricide. But assoon as I could recall the banishment of my senses; with more fury than judgement I followed them, to have anticipated their expectations, and have given them their condign punishment for their wicked intentions, but passion being guide I suppose I err'd in the way, for I could not recover the sight of them after they had entred the City, having traversed those places where I thought to have met them, and failing in my expectations, vext as I was I returned to the place where I first saw them, that instant producing an invention which prov'd very advantageous to my desires, though difficult in the undertaking. Denoteing the place where that assasin had hid his de­ceiveable garments; I thought it no variation from the point of honesty to rob him of those wickedly-used vestments, and haveing gotten them into my possession I returned (being very late) into the City to my habitation, not without thanks to the Gods, who not only gave me the so-much desired intuition of Atalanta, but by that very meanes also preserv'd my life, so wonderfull are their works, and unsearchable are their wayes and so con­trary are their designs to those of men, for those garments which were or­dain'd by those assasins, for to have been a means for the accomplish­ment of my death, and under which they had intended I should have received my distruction, prov'd the only means of my life and joy, and under which I received all pleasure and content.

That new injected project, which represented it selfe as good to my Ima­gination, still working upon my fancy made me leave my habitacle of rest with the earliest light, in order for the performance of that design out of which I had raised to my selfe a structure of delicious hopes. Having acqui­red those things which I thought necessary for the execution of my design, I spent the rest of the day in an unusuall, but sedulous observance, of the ac­couterments and deportments of women, I seldome observ'd the faces of any, haveing so deep a character of one in my heart, but my eyes like those of Taylors seemed to take patterne by every vestment, and to make all their deportments praeceptors to mine. By this you may easily guesse at my intentions, and that I sought for precedences how to become the more womanish.

This indeed was my design to illude fortune, and under a new disguise to hide my self from her injuries. I had indeed a minde to try, (since misfor­tunes had ever accompanied my vi [...]ill estate) whether in changeing the facies of my habit, I might change the face of my misfortunes. But this was not the alone inducement to that abject condition; had there been no greater persuas [...]on I should never have transform'd my selfe for fear of being the But for all the envious darts of fortune; I too well lov'd man, to become wo­man on such an occasion. No it was Love (that powerfull perswader to any action) that induced me to that Metamorphosis, and charmed me to for­go [Page 127] my proper shape. Love can as well make Hercules spin as fight, and not onely change habits but natures also. This was the only meanes that I could have to injoy Atalanta, and there was no difficulty but would have been easi­ly undergone for that enjoyment. This was the reason that my eyes were such indagators of their deportments, and such observers of their vestments, since I was to assimulate their Genus: a thing which I could not accomodate without the species of danger. Having approperated all that my Imagination could containe, I committed their Idaeas to my memory till I had occasion to bring them into act, or convenient place to exercise these feminine gesticulations. And to avoide incumbrances I disposed of my horse and armes, and all things but a few Jewells, and gold which could faciliously be deported.

The earth-loving Phl [...]gon with is jugall companions, had almost per­formed their diurnall course, having drawn the Quadriga of Sol, to the ut­most limits of the occidentall Hemisphere, when I left the City, and went into the most abdite place, on the river of Tagus, where I was hid from all eyes by the close growing trees. In this place I began to Metamorphize my selfe, and to devest my selfe of my man-like garments, which having done putting a stone in the midst of them bound together, I slung them into the midst of the river, and my selfe after, to delave all spots, since I was to be­come a new creature. There was now no going back from my determinati­ons, my cloathes were lost in the river, and I must now revest my selfe with that new change or returne naked; but the refrigerous river could not cool my desire, those flames were too ardent to be quencht with those waters. At last wearied with labouring my armes in that Crystall element I swam to the banke, and drying my selfe I put on those vestments, not without the ap­prehension of fear, how I should deport my selfe in that habit: but hope suppediting me with resolutions I totally adorn'd my selfe with those accou­terments. The river was fain to be my Speculum, and my own hands the addorners of my selfe, but I made a shift to concinnate my self in hand­some manner, and to adapt every thing, in its right mode. Having a while Considered my self in the faint reflection of the water, I saw nothing dissonant to the forme I had taken, and I believe had my own progenitors seen me, they had not known me. Nature seem'd to conspire to this change having made my body exiguous, and not too procerous, and the infallable token of virility not yet appearing on my Chin, made me to referre the sex I had feigned so much; that had not my selfe knowne to the contrary I should not have immagined any fiction, I should have thought I had suf­fered a true Metamorphosis, had I not known that I retained something that belonged to man, and I swear others must have known the like before they could have suspected any thing, so much had that forme transformed me. A little formosity that in those young dayes nature had bestowed upon me seemed to be much encreased, and it may be would in a vulgar eye have been called beauty, which I sought to augement by laying out some cincin­nat hair, that that might pleade for some pitty in the eyes of Atalanta, I found a great delight, and pleasing my immagination in beholding my self in the water, but at last fearing to runne the fortune of Narcissus I withdrew my self from that aquatick intuition, and began to exercise my thoughts to frame some sigment to allude Atalanta, a sin I confesse, but not to be voided at that time.

I ran over the whole index of my memory to find out the choicest and least suspected invention, adapting all circumstances with an adequate con­gruity, least to my ruin I should be found a counterfeit. Love that sharp­ner of invention, and insufer of wit, furnisht me with many ratified con­ceits, and help'd me to frame that which never was in esse. Having con­dited [Page 128] what I thought convenient, I began to exercise my knees to the pe­culiar flections of women, and to use my feet to their abulent gesture. But whilst I spent the time in these exercises of body and mind, Sol had drencht the wheeles of his flagrant carruck, in the Atalantick waves, and had given leave for his silvered sister to exhibit her borrowed splendor in his roome. Neverthelesse although I had assimulated, the Species of women, I had not altogether lost the heart of a man, my inside was not chang'd with my out­side, for feare, the inseparable concomitant of that weaker sex, did not possesse me in those tenebrous shades, but walking in that happy Ambula­chrum where I had seen Atalanta the night before, I expected her with ardencie and fear. At last my leggs lassated with those inambulations, and all my body weakned by the continual concurse of my spirits to my heart, which through divers extraordinary apprehensions caused continuall and un­wonted palpitations, I sate me downe at the roote of Iove's faire spreading tree, whose body becoming my pillow I suddenly dropt into an unexpected dormitation, for having slept but little the night before by reason of my continuall agitations, nature lacking some allevament, contrary to my will stole the easing of her self.

Time insensibly elapsed in that privation of my senses, which otherwise I should have past away in great care, and anxious expectations, and may be it might not have conduced to the taking away of suspiscion so, as that som­nolent posture did. In the midst of this sleeping, in a place very dis­agreeable to the forme I had assumed, I was awakened by the taction of a hand upon my face, which caused (through the unexpectation thereof) a sudden start, and exhibition of feare, but beholding Atalanta whose soft hand had given me that resurrection, it cast me into so great an amazement that it was a long time ere I could resettle my self. This subitane surprize, and hasty exuscitation from a condition, in which I did not dreame of her approach, had put all my praemeditated inventions and expressions clean out of my thoughts, and left me in such a condition that without faining I acted to the very life the part of that imbeciller sex I represented; At last recovering my surprize, and seeing Atalanta with her nurse, and fower or five of her maides about me, all amazed at my amazednesse, and expecting when my tongue would break the prison of my lips, I was forc't to leave collecting what before I had imagined, and make use of new injections agreable to that unexspected evenement. Casting my self at the feet of Atalanta with a tremulous posture, my eyes scarce daring to aspire to the intuition of hers; I created these words out of amasse of confused thoughts.

'Divine Goddesse and protectress of our Chastities; has the deplorable e­state of a persecuted virgin invok't your divinity to her succour? Let it be no offence if my weaknesse cause an amazement at so Celesti­all a sight, since the reflection of my unworthinesse, would put me be­sides the confidence of this seen happinesse, and perswade me that I am still in that sleep from which the touch of your divine hand hath awa­ed me. All of them amazed at my speeches, either thought me distract­ed or else not throughly experrected, but their silence giving me leave to proceed. Chast Goddesse (continued I) make knowne your pleasure to the distressed, and assure me that my eyes are felicitated with a true intuition. May your Divinity use that excesse of mercy; (knowing that for feare of pollution I am driven to this exigent, and that I have conserv'd incon­taminated that badge of your society) as to enrowle me, amongst the num­ber of your Nymphs! since there is no happinesse, like to that of becoming one of the meanest servants of Diana. Atalanta finding my mistake reacht forth her hand to lift me up, which whilst she spake I carried with excesse of [Page 129] ravishment to my mouth. Sister (said she) I am not that Queen of Cha­stity, and Goodesse of us virgins, as you suppose; but am indued with the same mortality as your selfe; I could have wish't I had not been the object of your mistake, since I am thereby become the dissipator of your hopes. Would at least I had but power to give you some allevament by all the meanes my weaknesse can contribute. My mistake Madam (returned I) is pardonable since that beauty caries with it some species of divinity apt to conduct a more setled soul than mine to so glorious an error, and I cannot account my hopes but very little undervalued since your benignity hath resented my misery. I am so little able (replyed that courteous one) to performe the desires of my will, that I am almost ashamed to invite you to my habitation; but the necessity you are in will excuse my trouble, if that I entreate you to command what I have to your service. The small accommodation I am able to afford you is neere at hand, where, if you will be pleased not to disdaine the utmost of my abilities, we will all seek to give your distresses some levation; and it may be take the boldnesse to enquire by what Tyranny you have been driven to this misery.

Ah Madam (replyed I) use not this excesse of bounty to one who will account it the highest and extreamest part of happinesse, if I may so far in­gratiate my selfe into your favour as to obtaine to be regester'd amongst the meanest of your servants, which will cause me to blesse that Tyran­ny which (through the mercy of the Gods) drove me to finde such felicity. I most willingly lay hold on the least part of your liberality; and take the boldnesse (through your favourable exhibition) to tell you that it will be im­possible for me without sinking under the hand of fate to lose your pre­sence by a returning: And indeed if you will admit of this intrusion I will consecrate all the strength of my body to your service. My estate will not aspire to a higher condition, neither will I wroung your bounty to accept of any other place, since that will felicitate me beyond all my deserts We wont force your will (replyed Atalanta smileing) we see the Nobility of it by this exhibition; you must not thinke to obscure your selfe, when you have already betrayed your selfe to our judgements: then taking me by the hand; come (proceeded she) think not but I shall be as unwilling to consent to your returne, as you to yeild to the Tyranny you have fled from; And since you have devoted your selfe to my commands, the first is that you use what I possesse with the like freedome as if it were your owne.

I will obey you in all things Madam except you command me not to love you, said I: omitting with it so deep a sigh that it might have betray­ed me to any suspicious soules; but the distresse I exhibited my selfe in, caus'd all my sad deportments, and my sighs to be attributed as due to my fortune. Led along by that hand whose gentle heat penetrated to the ardour of my heart, (first taken from the flames of her eyes) and agumented its slagrancies, on the one side: and on the other by the nurce of Atalanta, who saluteing me with great gravity shewed me as much kindnesse, all being pleased with my deportmenr, and pittying my mis­fortunes; I went ravisht almost besides my selfe with so great courtesie of A­talanta, and the propitiousnesse of my designes till we came to the boat fastned to the banke side; into which we entred, being row'd by those females that attended her.

Tagus which before seem'd envious to my desires by denying an ac­cesse to that glorious object of my wishes, now gave me cause to blesse its waves for this happy transportation, for the acquirement of all its gol­den sands would not have given me the hundreth part of that contentment I then receiv'd.

Had you seen the tranquillity of its motion, and the smoothnesse of its super­ficies, you would have said that it had been sen [...]ible of its portage, and that it gloried in nothing more than that submissiveness to her, who so much resembled the s [...]oth in [...]endred Goddess. And you could not but have said when at another time you might see its waves seem to threaten the skies with his forky flashes, that his disturbance proceeded from the long absence of his imperiall dame, than in whose pertage he seem'd to have no greater Glory. Or else the Tagae [...]n God in Love with Atalanta tranquillated his streams, for the exhibiti­on of his duty, and by his stillnesse, sought to retard her boat, thereby to retain his own happinesse. Whilst the duty of the streams, exhibited it self in its tranquillity, and that we were passing over to that little Ile which had often been a prospect for my eyes, and a receptacle for my heart, Atalanta in these words told how she found me. Sabane (said she; for so had I nomi­nated my self) certainly there is something more than the caprichiousnesse of fortune in this encounter, and it was something more than common curiosity that call'd me to your helpe. I have often to divert my self transpast this river, when that darkenesse obumbrates me from the eyes of men, and delight­ed my self in that subdiale walke, where till now nothing was obvious to my [...]ight, but those inanimates which continue there. This night leaving our attendants (as we use to do) to awaite our returning, my mother and I occu­pying our selves in ordinary discourses, we measured the earth with our paces till we were come upon you, and then I suddenly espying you, not discerning your sex, or consulting with my Judgment, affrighted as I was I [...]an back screech­ing. But meeting with my maides, all runing to lend me their feeble aides, I remembred, I had left my mother to that danger I fled from, to repair which shame I returned with as much speed, being incouraged with the Company of my maides, but I met her returning, who, not so timerous as my self had approacht you, and perceiving by your habit that you were of our own sex, she was returning to tell me that (as she believ'd) you were dead.

Having gathered strength by decussing my fear, I greatly pityed your case, by reason of Sympathizing with our genus. It may be, mother (said I) that she may yet have need of our Charity, and since she is of our imbeciller sex we will not feare to satisfie our selves with a better discovery, and see to what acts of charity the Gods conduce us. with this, strengthning our selves with a close adjunction we aproacht you, and not perceiving you to breath, I forc'd my self to so much hardinesse as to feel whether your body had been destitute of heat by the relinquish­ment of your soul, which [...]ction it seems awaked you. I madam, (replyed I) that gentle touch hath rais'd me from the grace of my distresses, and your continuall presence will consolidate all my happinesse; for which felicite evenement I am indebted a hundred thousand prayers to the Gods, and as many lives (if I had them) to your service, other dis­course we had till those maiden strokes had brought us to the landing place where we left our floateing house, and set our feet upon the more solid element.

The envious darkness wrapt in obscurity all the rarities of the place, and denied me the intuition of those pleasant gardens that circundated the habitacle of Atalanta. But by the sicke sight of the nights gubernatrix I could perceive, that the place gloried no lesse in its site [...], and all the happy adornments nature could out of her greatest benignity afford, than in being the blessed habitation of one of the greatest bauties in the world. Art could likewise challenge no lesse share in the conservation and imbel­lishment of its pride, and deserv'ed no lesse praise for its exact and ex­quisite Imitation; every thing being methodiz'd into a naturall wildnesse so [Page 131] that it was hard to say whether nature Imitated art, or art nature, in those compartments and indentments of groves and walkes. It was a place fit indeed to be the receptacle of so fair a creature, and where pleasure seem'd to glory in becoming a servant to her greatnesse. Between that object of all my desires and her tutoresse I was conducted along a most pleasant walke which led from the place where we landed to the house, being set on each side and mingled alternately with yellow and orange coulour fruit-bearing trees, which gave so fragrant a smell that would have reviv'd a benummed sense, and which surpassed the odours of the Arabick forrests.

The fruites like those of Alcinous hung with a continuall fairenesse, and those golden apples fairer than those of the fabulated Hesperides hung like aureated studds amoungst the fresh verdure of their tremulous leaves, which delighted the optick sence with their sight, and the odorate with their fragrancies. Between these pleasurable trees treeding upon a continu­all spring of virdant grasse we walked till we came to the house, which in all things equall'd the concinnity of the best, and corresponded with the greatnesse of Atalanta. Being entred Atalanta renewed her welcomes with many strickt embraces, and at last saluted me as a token of her Love and frindship. The touch of those Rubies had allmost extracted my soul totally from my body, which fled to the portalls of its structure that it might with more ardency receive the impression of her lips. My senses hardly exerciseing their functions for some time after the receipt of that inflaming kisse, I exhibited an amazednesse in my looks, and hardly answered sense to what she said, but at last re­covering my selfe, and perceiving she took notise of it, I excused it the best I could with these words. Madam Truly I had lost my selfe in the Maeanders of your goodnesse, which contemplation had so implicated me that it was imposible for me suddenly to returne. I cannot but see that my greatest acknowledgement will be but as it were ingratitude if com­par'd to the excesse of that goodnesse you exhibite: for in beholding the exiguitie of my deserts I find the immensity of your favours. No marvell then if I am amazed being none besides your self could perswade me that my senses had the fre exercise of all their functions, but that these immense favours were but the pleasing phantasmes presented in the Kingdome of Morph [...]us. Atalanta answered me with no lesse grace than the Queen of Heaven, her words exhibiting her to be the daughter of Mercurie. I beseech you (said she) do not magnifie these small testifications of my amity to so great a magnitude; for I professe they are so much below the desires I have to ac­commodate your goodnesse, that I will not own them farther than the dimini­tive of my will, and that by this minute service you may Judge the cordiality o [...] my affection.

Other discourses we had in which she exhibited her wit and goodness, till she had conducted me into a chamber where riches and decency strove to accomo­date beauty. After she had put off an accessary mantle which serv'd to keep off the cold blasts of the night, and that we had seated our selves, Atalanta in very good terms pray'd the audition of my foruntes. I then (not without fear of triping) told her at large this sigment with many circumstances and imbellish­ments which I will tell you in two or three words. I fain'd my self to be niece to King Juba, though I was borne after his death. I told her a brother unto that King hearing of the voluntary death of Juba, and that he saw the hand of fortune resolv'd to sling that kingdome into the lap of the Romans, loath to follow the example of his brother and yet loath to become a slave to the Romane greatnesse fled from that unfortunate place, and passing beyond the mountaine Atlas natures bound-mark to the Roman Empire, he found a [Page 132] habitation in the court of the King of the Getulans, where at last he was maried to a neece of the Kings, from which conjunction I feign'd my self to be pro­duc'd. My father I told her dyed when I was very young and whom I could not remember, my mother (I feign'd) liv'd till I was fourteen years of age who in her life time had bred me in an extraordinary way of behaviour and civility contrary to the custome of that Rude people. And that after her death my small formosity increasing with my years made one of the chiefest in the kingdome desire me, but that I, not enduring the great incivility and rude nature of those Getulans, despised him, and forbad him ever to mention his sute any more. But he (I told them) more enflam'd with Lust than Love sought one day having an opportunity) to have forc't me: a crime of the smallest nature amongst them, and seldome punisht but by laughter. However I made my force to resist his violence and with helpe to preserve my chastity, and that my complaints and teares to the King at last procur'd his banishment; which filling that wicked Getulan with enragement, lawes being of too small force to curbe his Insolency, watching his opportunity stab'd the King, and having a party ready, set the whole Kingdome into a combustion and flames of war. I said that hearing the truth of the Kings death and fearing death lesse than to fall into the hands of that parricide I fled with some few attendants towards the mount Atlas, but being pursued by him was there taken and every one of them that accompained me slain, my self brought by him to the sea and embarqed in a ship to returne with the more speed to the Court, where his party was like to get the better. But the winde crossing the intentions of the Tyrant drove him along the Coasts of Mauritania as far as the streight, where he was set upon by pyrats and slain, my selfe becoming their prisoner. I continued that the cheif of them considering me as his slave, appropriated me to himself, but perceiving some of his companions that would have had a share in the prize he had reserv'd to himself, and that he might with the more security force me to his sensuality he caused me with himself to be set on shore not far from that place, where he was about to force me to his will; but my sckreeks and cryes calling some country men to my ayde, they oposed him and that whilst they fought for my defence, fearing the pyrate would get the better, I ran away towards some trees I saw for shelter and following a path that brought me to the river, I at last was surpriz'd by the night, where being weary with my flight and disturbed with my distresses I was for'd to sit down under the covert of those trees, and that not having slept for along time by reason of my feares, I was suddenly surpriz'd with a sound sleep, where being awaked by the divine hand of Atalanta, I thought she had been no other than the Chast Diana who had appear'd for my rescue, but that now I understood it was Atalanta the unparrallel'd peere of courtesie and under whose tuition I hop'd to finde an end of my miseries. This discoutse took up a Larger extent of time, being then told very formally and so patheticall that it mov'd the benign Atalanta to teares, and made them all condole my feigned miseries. Atalanta a­gain redoubled her favourable expresses of the desires she had to retain me continually, and with renewed embraces sought to require that which was the only desire of my soul, so that I easily yeilded and told her that I would tyre her benigni [...]y with a continuall stay, and spend the rest of my dayes at her charge. After a collation which she caused to be brought in, night being a quarter spent she led me to my chamber where the officiousnesse of her maids made me fearfull of my discovery, but I caried every thing with so much care, that I freed my self from all suspicion and detectment.

You may Imagin that I spent good part of that night in the reflections of my fortune, and happy successe of my Inventions; indeed the wit, the grace, and [Page 133] ineffable courtesie of Atalanta stir'd up adaequiate flames with her beauty, So that there was no part of her but was amiable and divine. The pleasing [...]d [...]a of that matchlesse marvell being still obvious to my thoughts agitated them till nature reassum'd that allevament out of which Atalanta had exuscita­ted me.

The night being past our next meeting renew'd our embraces, and more than common civilities. The day gave us both a perspicuous intuition of each other, which we had received before but at a distance, and by the deceivable light of tapers. Atalanta contrary to the property of the fairest pictures (which at a distance exhibit a most exquisite formosity, and amiable looks; but the nearer you approach them with your eye, the lesse amabibity is found in their looks) shewed the most admirable worke of nature, and most venust complection in more near intuition. The sun discovered all the perfections of that face wherein there was nothing but what was admirable, and past the skill of nature her selfe to mende. Her ornaments more rich than before I had seen her in, gave new splendor to her brightnesse, or rather receiv'd brightnesse from her splendor, which filling her all over with charmes gave a second captivity to my before-enthralled heart. Whilst my eyes fixed with a certain intentivenesse upon her, she no lesse re­garded the lineaments and make of my face. I had consulted a more cleare mirror than the day before, and use beginning to make perfectnesse I forgot not any thing that belonged to the pride of women. But perceiving her eyes reading I know not what charecters in my face, (I could not thinke what I might exhibit to that discernable eye) which through the vicissitude of fear and shame, first disrobed it of all its rednesse, and then again return'd it with a new accretion. But at last Atalanta breaking her silence. Ah! foolish and fantastick Idea; (cried she out) hast thou a desire to torment me eternally? Have I not Symboles enough of my crimes, but that thou must exhibit the species of my tormenter in the face of my solacer. No no this is not a true air which I see in the face of Sabane (said she embraceing me) it is the strength of my Imagina­tion that gives impresses on all objects, or else it is some envious Daemon that would ma [...]e you whom I have chosen for my greatest allevament to become my greatest torment by exhibiting the species of one (whom I cannot call to minde without a fatality) in your face. Sure (said she unfolding her armes and casting her eyes upon me) 'tis but the delusion of my eyes, or mock of my fancie. But (continued she with another tone and wonderfull grace) pardon these transports, though they clearly represent to you my insulsities. I was somewhat amaz'd at these obscure speeches, but at last, Madam (said I) I beseech you rather let me perish, and rather let me become a prey to the most inhumane, then that I should be the least cause of your dolor, or cause you to remember those whom you desire to drive from that felicity. It will be impossible that I should take any allevament to my selfe when I thinke my company through such a fatali­ty is the exuscitator of your grief. No no (said she interrupting me hasti­ly) I have vowed you my friendship and nothing but the stroke of death shall be able to deprive you of it. It is the highest of my ambition (replyed I) to desire the honour of you commands, but seing you resolve to make me so gloriously happy I cannot but wish for occasions daily that I might sacri [...]ize my Life for your service, to shew you the least part of the affection I bear you, which is so immense that it may be compar'd to nothing but to the excesse of your owne goodnesse. Other discourses spun out the morning where in she exhibited a world of f [...]een [...]sse, she related to me how their fall had pro­ceeded from the Roma [...] greatnesse, and gave me the knowledg who she was, and told me what before I had heard by inquiry in Olissippo, hiding nothing of her [Page 134] common affaires from my knowledg, but sought with all freedom to satisfy me in every thing.

You will say that I had attaind to a great hight in my felicity and that the Gods themselves had a finger in my prosperities: True indeed I receiv'd so great happinesse and content in the pleasing conversation of Atalanta, that I blest the time, though not the occasion that I left my fathers house, whose ter­rible remembrances were now swallow'd up in my blessed felicities. In a lit­tle time the habit, and gestures which I had assimulated, were grown so natu­rall and habituall as if I had accompanied them from my Infancie, so that I had no fear of discovering my selfe by any inassuety. Think not but Shame some­time set before me my muliebrity, and upbraided me with meanness of spirit, in leaving my more noble for so ignoble condition, and in accommodateing my self to so great imbecillitie: And in representing the future I found so many difficulties and unlikelynesses of effecting what I desired that sometimes I began to repent my designes. I fear'd I should instead of her love acquire her ha­tred when that she should know how greatly I had deceived and abus'd her. And to think of living allways in that condition without discovering my self would have given adaequate pain to my pleasures and have rackt me between two con­traries. But all objections both of honour and danger fled at her presence, and then I found it as possible to think of leaving my condition as to trans­forme my self in verity, into the sex I had assimulated, so great was the pleasure I receiv'd in her company, and so great was the power of affectionate Love to hold me.

I remain'd seven weeks in this Sardanapalean condition, my flames still encreasing with my pleasures, in which time Atalanta exhibited so perfect a friendship that it was impossible in the condition I was in to desire more. To unite our amity in the greatest nearness she would have had me lain with her, but fearing to be overcome with so great temptation, I was allmost incivill to deny her! But by her imposition we call'd one another sisters, and seldom but when we rested were one minute out of the fight of each other. Sometimes though in the midst of these pleasures I should evaporate sighs, and in spight of all my delights the charctars of sadnesse would be wrot upon my face, which proceeded from the suppression of my flames. Atalanta taking them to be the reflections of my former distresses, would apply such pleasing comforts and a­dapt such endeared expressions that I could not but find solace in them, though the cause was far from that she suppos'd: So that at the same time she was both the object of my sighs and Joy. Although that extreamly courteous one sought to dispell my sadnesse with her dear expressions and actions, and to ad­minister all the solace she was able, yet I perceiv'd that her heart was full of mestitude, and that her dolor no ways decreased. She had not as yet communi­cated the cause of it to me, and I perceiv'd she did not desire I should take no­tice of it, so that I would not exhibit my curiosity by asking it; Besides I fear'd least in knowing it I should find my own ruin, and that Love preoccupied her mind, and was the cause of those troubles: which best corresponded with that which I had secretly heard from her own mouth. But that I might allevate Atalanta I exhibited a greater alacrity than the consideration of my pensive thoughts would willingly have admitted, I sought all divertisements, and made it my sole pragma to administer solace by diverse recrea­tions.

Some times I would endeavour to divert her minde by the relation of divers stories and accidents, some fabulated and some true, and by many discourses on severall Subjects. Sometimes again I sought to make her find some refreshment in the delicate viridias of the gardens, and pleasing places of the groves, and sometimes again I would exercise her in running in the Hypaethryums and paradromes of the house, and when the [Page 135] imbrick Auster irrigated the ground in the Xystus. And when the calmness of the evening gave leave, we made use of her wonted solace upon the Tagus, where my self often times us'd the oare for her transportation, and I never visited the walke where in I first saw her without a benediction on the place. She was naturally very nimble, and she allways would be very well pleas'd with any exercise I would challeng'd her to, wherein most times we did not exhibit our utmost industry or strength out of a desire to make our adversary conqueror. One day having challeng'd her to run a race for some small jewel or other (to such innocent sports had love made me to condescend) I let her win the prize by a voluntary retardation. But that cursory motion had dyed the cheeks of Atalanta of such a scarlet hew, which rendred her so lovely that I could not but cry within my self. Ah! murtherous Atalanta, Schaeneis wound­ed only the Calydonian bore, and used her shafts against the ferocious beasts, but you insensibly wound my heart with inumerable shafts which proced from those lovely eyes, whose sharpe Cuspides hath split the stony rock of my heart, and given issue to whole streams of Love. But coming up to her, Atalanta (said I facetiously) you inherit as well the nature as the name of the Sch [...]nean maid, yet I hope you will not prove so rigerous to the vanquished, but were I a man I should despise all danger to adventure for such a prize though I think that he must obtain the same gift of Venus which heretofore she bestow'd on Neptun's nephew who must overcome you. You are very pleasant sister (reply'd she smiling) but I may thank your voluntary tardity that I am victoresse. In many such innocently loveing striveings we sought to give each other victory, glo­rying more in looseing than in winning. And indeed I could not find greater content in the world than in the sight and content of Atalanta, whom I had made the sole object of desires and sole businesse to serve. If she was con­tent I thought my self happy, and if I saw serenity in her face from the clouds of Sorrow I received more Joy than if half the world had been given me to possesse.

Atalanta's governesse seeing the Love and care I bore to her, and that I made it my whole businesse to divertize her, perceiving also that Atalanta bore me a great deal of Love, remitted her wholy to me, finding a great eas­ment of that burden which I had so willingly taken upon me, so that I was very often alone with her and had opportunity enough to discover my self, had not a timerous respect continually banisht those Cogita­tions, and represented her just anger more terrible then death, so that I was forc'd to smother those thoughts, and content my self with the felicities I enjoy'd.

But whilst my resurging flames were suffocated with a continual depression, they were as much sufflated by a continual presence, which gave me an intoller­able inustion, & made me do things almost enough to have discovered my pas­sion, had they not been so extreamly blinded by my habit. The continuall in­tuition of that deity gave innumerable incitements, and exuscitated such scor­ching and lively flames, that after a while it was imposible for me to exhibit the coldnesse and indifferency I did at first, and not to excurr allmost into extravagancies in the reception of those incomparable pleasures Ata­lanta gave. But seeing I could not acknowledg them, nor give my passion any vent by my mouth, I was fain to do it by my eyes and actions, and thereby silently to expresse that which I dar'd not to do with my tongue, oftentimes when we were alone, I should behold her with so great in­tentivenesse, and so avidiously devoure those rarities, till I had quite lost my selfe in those Labyrinths of perfections, & running from the contemplation of her auborne haire, to the intuition of her faire forehead, and from that to the perfect rainbowes of her face, under which two suns exhibited such splen­dor that I was not able to behold them long without occecaton, then intuiting [Page 136] her nose which was raised to a perfect proportion, thence her mouth which was lovely and little, whose corals with a magnetick virtue us'd long to detaine my eyes, but at last gave leave to behold her dimpled chinn, and faire basis of those matchlesse mirrors. Then ascending back againe never wearie of those pleasing contemplations, nor findeing any way out of those intricacies, till the blushes of her cheeks shewed me the way forth, and as it were brought me to my selfe againe; which sometimes was accompanied with so many ingeminated suspirations, that they seem'd Querimonies for my losse, and sometimes it was accompanied with such extravagances both of words and gestures, that I have wondered that she had not per­spicuously seen my passion which sometimes so shamed me, that I had little power left me to make excuses. This growing frequent, she thought it had been some indisposition, and would have sought for to have acquired something for my health had I not over-perswaded her to the contrary. I receiv'd a world of other felicities which gave daily and more strong in­flammations to my passion, and desires of intire possession of what I saw, sometimes pressing those delicate and faire hands, and interweaving those slender and ivory fingers with mine I should carry them with such passion to my lips, where I should give them thousands of ardent kisses, and al­most inflame those lilyes with the continuall pressure of my burning lips. Which to require reciprocally she would returne some on my fore-head, cheeks and lips, which though I received with excesse of pleasure and unu­terable, yet was it much mitigated by the thoughts of the injurie I did her modesty; for I could not but blame my self that I did so egregiously abuse one so courteous and affable, but love answered all scrupl [...]s, and forced me greedily to desire those sweets. At other times when my officiousnesse hath made me helpe to pinne on those veiles that obscured that snow-surpassing whitnesse, and religeously hid those rarities from our profane eyes, I should (transported at those sweetly riseing tumours) basiate those faire orbes whose tender touches would have inflamed a soul composed all of water, judge you to what an extasis these enjoyments drove me. Oftentimes also being in her chamber when she hath beraken her selfe to repose, after her devest­ment, I have beheld her only in her smock, which was too fine to hide any of those attracting beauties from the eye of a Lover, but the rare simme­ty of that composure with all its beauties enough to have enamour'd the whole world, was perspicable through that carbaseous tegment. Oh? how I was faine to contract all the powers of my soul to retard the present motions of my desires and passions at such a sight. By these continuall and forcible exsuscitations of my flames you may judge with that difficulty I supprest them. And although I did digresse sometimes by the too violent pressure of my passion, my habit gave me security and freedome in those digressions, and Atalanta took them all as tokens of my entire Love and affection.

In this manner full of deliciousnesse, and imparadiz'd in the fruition of these sweets I spent many weeks, which seem'd but so many moments so insesibly had they past away. But now that caprichious Goddesse who all this while had seemed to have forgotten me, or else to have [...]ost me in the habbit I had assumed began with a new vengeance to make known, the power of her will, and to make the happinesse I enjoyed momentany.

One day walking with Atalanta on the Tarrasses of the house we spied a man on the other side of the river waving a white cloth of piece of silke upon a long stick about his head as if it were some signal for his admission, as soon as I had shewn it her I perceived a hundred vicissitudes of white and red in her face, with a generall disturbance and tremour in all her limbs, at last fearing I had taken too much notice of her, she took me by the hand and [Page 137] lead me down into the Court, and immediately giving order to some of her servants to fetch him over that was on the other side, It is one that must be admitted (said she to me) Ah! (continued she softly to her selfe, but so as I made a shift to hear her) fatal messenger either of life or death how great emotion has thy presence wrought! Sighs began to follow in abun­dance but that I perceived she suppressed them with great pain for fear I should take notice of her. By that time we had walked a few turns in the orange walke her maides had wasted him over, whom we saw approach­ing us alone. Atalanta assoon as he had put one knee to the ground not permitting him to speak cast her faire armes about his neck and kissing his forehead had like to have swounded in his armes through the distur­bance she felt. At last leaving those embraces, which began to exuscitate envie and jelousie in my breast, she turn'd about to me her countenance bearing the badge of modesty, I hope your goodnesse (said she) hath not misinterpreted my action though indeed I have given you too great an oc­casion to make you judge wronge of my pudicity, had I told you before who this is I might have hindred it. It is one of my maides who you thus see whose obsequiousnesse hath made her change the habit of her sex to do me service. Go (saies she to the maid) divest your selfe and verifie what I have said by your presence. Sister (said I) though I wondered at your acti­on, yet I suspended my thoughts knowing your virtue would never permit you to transgresse the laws of modesty, for I believ'd that you had ground for what you did. After a little time the maide, the cheife confident of Atalanta returned clothed in habilliments consentanious to her sex. Make­ing some excuse which was very willingly admitted of, I left them to their private conference. Two or three howers after having, me thought, been a long time weaned from her presence the very comfort of my life, I re­turned to finde her, and after I had searcht all the walks, groves, and to­piares about the house, I found her in a virect which was enclosed with ra­miculous trees, very low, at the further end of that I let, close by the river side. The maide I met at the entring into the place returning to­wards the house: her eyes exhibited by their rednesse that they had been paying tribute to grief in moist teares. But passing on without exchanging any words, I saw Atalanta, but so changed that I was amazed, and admira­tion stopping the motion of my body, I stood as if I had beheld the head of Medusa. She was laid upon the gramineous earth, her head leaning against a low cypres tree, her armes in a carelesse manner cast abroad, her eyes with a kind of [...]emisse intentivesse were cast up towards heaven, the bottoms big with limpid teares, which were but newly stopt through the extremity of her grief, her cheeks bearing the dry markes of those silver currents and her strophium rorated with their moistures, the stilness & obscurity of the place agreeing to make every thing doleful, it seemed to me a kind of horror to dwell there. After some time I approached her, & endeavoured with all the words I was able to exprom out of a heart truly sensible of her grief, to give her some consolation. But all that I could do or say gained nothing from her but abundance of teares and sighs, that I was very troublesome to her, griefe having a kinde of pleasure in it, and thinks it selfe wrong'd by the interruptions of any. When I saw I could give her no allevament by my words, I sat me down opposite to her and looking upon her with eyes spring­ing forth tears I accompanied her in her lacrymations. When she lookt upon me and saw the torrents, than ran over the swellings of my cheeks and trickled to the ground (like another Alpheus running after his Are­thusa) shaking her head she wept the more, and her teares still exhau­sting mine we made a torrent betwixt us of our mingled waters tears still be­getting tears, and the sadnesse of the one still continuing the sadnesse of the [Page 138] other, that we sate like two Niobes drowning our cheeks with continuall tears.

In this posture we were found by her governesse, who together with her maid came to endeavour to draw her out of her great sorrow, and by her grave counsel to absterge her tears, what with the power she had over her, and with the sound speeches she used she something mitigated the efluence of those argenteous currents, and at last caused her to leave that place, when we werein her chamber, perceiving that she desired privacie I left her with little lesse mestitude than her self, finding my self interrested in her grief, and troubled for being ignorant of the cause. The next day I visited her, and I found that grief had not altogether so powerful an opperation upon her, but that she had power now to ask pardon for the trouble she had put me to the day before, and for the little regard she had of my consolations. I proceeded to comfort her all I might; and though I knew not the occasion of her plangor yet speaking generally of grief I told her, that teares were but a vani­ty, and tormenting our selves for things irrecoverable, past, and done, was but a weaknesse, and that it was a passion whose excursions ought to be stopped and moderated, and that it might be effected by a resignation of our wi [...]ls to the superior powers, to be content, with whatsomever accidents they shall be pleased to send, and that we should not immoderately desire any thing, by whose loss we might run into despair. Such other counsell I administred, which my self was not able to follow; but she answered me not but with abundance of suspirations, thereby testifying that her griefe proceeded from more than common causes, and that there was something extraordinary in it. The space of a whole week she continued in this man­ner though not with that excesse as at first, yet growing more upon her and takeing at last root it became the more dangerous. When I saw that I expected in vain when she would tell me the cause of her trouble, and that with all the art I could use I gave her very little comfort, I was so troubled that my looks exhibited how grear a share I bore in her sorrow. One day Atalanta having given me the slip to feast her Melancholy thoughts with funebrous meditations I at last found her in a solitary place amongst the taxeous shades, compassed about with those sepulchrall trees, mingled with the fruitlesse Cipresse. She had newly began to bedew the fair roses of her cheeks with the most pertious liquor of her eyes, and those pearl-bearing ri­vulets springing from the marvellously limpid fonticules ebbed & flow'd accor­ding to the variable tyde of sorrowful thoughts. My presence gave some check to their outflowing, and made her wipe away those moist characters of her grief with her ricula; but their impressions on my heart could not so soon be abster­ged. I ran to her with my wonted confidence, and flinging my self on the grass by her I took her fair hands, and giving them many suaviations, and bedewing I at last broke forth my resentments thus. Ah sister Atalanta, (my teares accommpanying my words) have you not so much confidence in my fidelity to entrust me with the cause of this dolor? how can I live and behold you in continuall mourning and give no comfort? and how can I administer consolation, correspondent to your griefe, and be ignorant of the cause of it! either let me dye, or else not live so great a stranger to your thoughts! If there be any thing that may be acquired for your alleva­ment, though with never so great danger make use of my Service, and you shall see my affection so strengthen me that I shall be able to over­come all oppugnances, and what you (it may be) may think impossibili­ties. [...]ive me not cause to thinke I inherit not the place of a sister, when I am an alien to your thoughts. But consider not (I beseech you) this auda [...]ity as an effect of my curiosity, but of my affection, for did I not think my self capable of serving you I should be content to ignore it for ever: yet seeing you have interessed my affection far beyond my deserts, let me con­jure [Page 139] you by that Love you bear me, and in the name of a sister which your goodnesse hath imposed upon me to let me know the cause of this trouble which you so carefully hide from me. Atalanta joyning her face and tears to mine stopt the rest of my words. When she had cleared the passage for her words with a thousand heart-labouring sighs, her teares also suffering a new reflux she said. Dear Sabane! It is not thy fidelity that I mistrust, nor any other consideration but shame hath hindered me from imparting the knowledge of it to thee, and fear that in knowing it you will for ever detest me. Oh (replyed I suddenly) let not such cogitations prove obstacles to my desires, for those bonds wherewith my amitie is bound are to be solved by no consideration but death. I see you know not the depth of my affection, for if you did you would not have Judged so wrongfully of me. It is impossible for you Sabane to help me in the least (said she again) for if you knew it you would not (questionlesse) stop my teares, but say all my dayes will be too too little for my penitency, and were my dayes lengthned to years, and should every day shed rivers of teares, they would be all too little to make satisfaction for my fault. Nothing hinders me but the shame I know will acrue thereby, and I know not how to confesse my crime and outlive my shame. Here giving way to some sighs she went on. Ah sister if I should not tell you ere, long my crime would be too perspicable and then I must be forced to let you know it when I can no longer hide it. I will confesse (continued she strictly embraceing me) I will confesse all my crimes and not hide any thing from you though I am sure to be wor­thily condemned by your virtue, you shall know that which hath cost me many teares and which you will Judge worthy of more. I knew not how to explicate her words, but I found that they caused an extreame emotion in me, which was a true presage of that which was to happen. I still fear'd to finde my owne ruine in what I desired to know, which was at last effe­cted by versatilous fortune. In beholding Atalanta I perceived the desire she had to expresse her self, and her pudicity, strove in her breast so that it was a long time before she could master that passion to emit these few words.

What words shall I adapt? or what expressions can I use! whereby I may lessen the infailable symbole of my shame! How unjustly (continued she weeping) did you give me the title of Diana at your first meeting? alas! I have ran the same fortune of Ly [...]onian Calisto, but here's the dis­parity! she was gloriously deceived by a God, I perfideously betrayed by a man! Must I say more! can I say more! I have lost that which should be the everlasting honour of virginity, that Zone which should not have been loosed but in the Thalamus, that inestimable jewell, which is im­possible to be recuperated, that honour that can never be regained: and now I bear the quick burden of my shame and dishonour within me, which lives but to reproach me of my infamy. Oh weake spirited woman so long to outlive this action! with this plunging her head into my bosome she lay near a quarter of an hower senslesse at the apprehension of her crime. My self no lesse astonish'd striken with horror became as an immovable sta­tue, or like one striken with thunder. Coming to our selves both together Ah! (said she lifting up her head) her face being imbued with an extraordi­ry rednesse, which made her glideing teares seem like blood, can you love one so polluted? shall not I contaminate you in beeing so contigu­ous? ah! for ever abandon such a wretch, and no more count her worthy of your friendship, who hath so far forget the precepts of vir­tue, the fear of ignominy and of the Gods. As full of trouble as I was I sought to comfort her what I could, with so altered a counttenance, and incongruity in my speeches that she but could not but take notice of it. But at that instant her Goverensse found us out, who was never long from her, since that last accression of sorrow.

I left them together, and in a marvellous astonishment I betooke me to a place where I might with more freedome vent forth my grievous lamentations, and with sighs, teares an groans mittigate the torment caused by this sudden and most grievous misfortune. It was a long time ev'r I could get out of the benummednesse and torpor I was in, but at last fall­ing into a consideration of my losse, her beauty, her wit, her good nature and my deep desire proving exaggerations of my evill; I fell into a kind of Syncope, out of which returning I beate the aire with such like complaints as these. Ah cruel fortune! (cryed I out vehemently) hast thou found out the very worst of plagues to torment me with! for what cause! for what reason! oh all ye Gods do you thus conjoyne for my overthrow! Oh great thun­der-dart visit me at this instant with thy threeforck't arrow [...]! and transpierce that heart which the winged God hath already transfixt with his en­venomed shaft; which fortune hath pierc'st with an envious stroke, which sad Erinyes hath compunged with scorponian stings. Oh! sad fate, to be brought to the brinke of blisse, there to find a precipice, to the heaven of Joy and content to find a Hell of torment, and woe! what could be more great then the Joy I hoped for! what can be thought worse than the misery I find! Alas! by how much the more joy I conceived by so much the more torment I endure! Ah Atalanta, would thou hadst be [...]n more chast, or lesse beautifull, or would, that the angry Gods had first o [...]bated me of the light of my eyes before I had seen thee. Then almost raving with the excesse of trouble: what shall I continue my love to that defiled one? (cry'd I to my selfe) shall I languish in flames of love, for one already consu­med, in those of lusts? one who yet grownes under the burden of her shame. Leave leave this place oh unfortune Lonoxia, and abhor a beauty already contaminated. Why art thou so slow? why do'st not fly this wretched place? strive to banish her thy memory, think not on her beauty, view that e­gregious imperfection which renders her contemptible in chast eyes, canst thou think of Loving her who hath been defiled by the embrac's of ano­ther? and who will become a mother before she be a wi [...]: An v [...]w the folly of Love, and see into what precipices his illecebraces d [...]aw. By and by having placed the Imago of that fair one before the eyes of my mind, I was converted to a contrary judgment and enforced out of the depth of my passion to cry out; Deare Atalanta! I alas augment your misfortune by my wrong­ing conceptions, pardon my injurious words, pardon my interpretations, pardon my exclamations, seeing they proceed from the heate of Love. Ah insulse Lonoxia do'st thinke thy chaines are so easily excussed? is thy heart so little fixt, as to be retracted by the knowledge of this thing? hath she wronged thee? hath she promised ought to thee? why accusest thou her? Do'st not see her every minute ready to Sacrifice her life as a victim for the expiation of her crimes? hast no pity of her life? of her teares? no com­passion on that faire sex? that weak sex? may not their virtue be o're-pow­ered and mastered by men? It may be a violent devirginator hath given her this defilement by force. Excuse her and rather turn thy fury on thy selfe for that thou art of a sex so injurious, or on all other men for the sake of the contamina­tor. But think, canst thou withdraw that Love which binds the insollubly to the object; canst break those irrefragable bonds of Cupid, where with thy heart is linkt to that criminal? try try thy strength, but 'twill be in vain. Ah cruell and unmercifull power of love, to cause me love that which I desire to hate, to make me still dote on a beauty defiled with pitch; and though I know that which (may be) would make others loath and an abhor, yet it is not powerfull enough to remove my desires, or abate the force of my Love. Ah lovely Atalanta I must love thee as well with thy blemishes as with all thy glo [...]ious indowments. This will give her occasion to see the [Page 141] strength of my love, this it may be will make her hear my state, and cause that spirit to bow, which otherwise might have been too too lo [...]ty, and have scorned to stop at so low a prey. She is not the lesse lovely for her fault, Love hides thousands, let's find a place in ours to hide this.

Such like complaints as these were continually emitted by me, Love and hatred wracking me miserably, sometimes I detested my love, by and by blamed my selfe for detesting, sometimes I thought to depart, and then a­gaine I found it impossible, for I no sooner beheld Atalanta but all my re­sentments ceased and I found that my chaines were nothing loosned with the knowledge of her crime, her eyes still transpierced me, and my flames burnt as ardent as ever. However a week passed away in which I dayly la­mented my misfortune in hers, and with that excesse of trouble which could not be concealed that they wondred at the interest I took in hers. She poor soul dared scarcely to behold me, so much shame was seted in her eyes, which made her with an humble dejection, project them on the earth, her countenance being cloathed with so much sorrow, and her penitentiall teares were so many, that they were strong motives for the taking away all ill opinons of her, and to move one rather to pity and compassion, than to any up­braidings, or to the increasing of her griefe, which was so excessive. Ah! Sabane (would she sometimes say) canst thou now blame my teares? doth not my crime deserve greater penances? is it possible that thou do'st not detest me, doe not you think me worthy of death, and unworthy of your company and friendship! Oh, Gods how unjustly ye prolong my Life! no no it is just, that thereby ye prolong my misery. But may I not violate your restraining Lawes, and give my selfe liberty by a voluntary expiration, as well as I have violated those of chastity! Speake Sabane by what death shall I redeem my honour? Alas it is now too late, I cannot break the chains of life but I must murther the innocent. In this manner she would run on, whilst my teares kept pace with her words, both in consideration of her griefe and my misfortune! All the comfort I could administer was too weake to stop her complaints, or the effluence of her Christal fountaines, which with a kind of miracle carryed flames in the midst of those waters? Sorrow it self giving a kinde of I know not what lustre to her beauty, and her teare bedewed countenance spake so eloquently and pathetically, that it made me (forgetting my self) to run out into such fury against our sex devow­ing to be revenged with my own hands on him that had caus'd that fair on such dolor, and had done her such despight. For that end, desiring her to let me know who it was, I beseech'd her to give me leave to let him feel the fury of my so just resentment. To give satisfaction to my desires, and that I might see she would withold nothing from me, she commanded her maide, and chiefest confident, to give me a brief relation of her fortune, who in obedience to her commands gave me the relation in these termes.

Who would give any audition to the oathes, to the vowes, and invo­cations of men? Who would believe them when they swear, who would pity them when they seem to groan themselves to death? And who would grant them the least favour before Hymen tye the indivissible bond of matremony? when they are so wicked, so deceitfull, so instable, such egregious Imposters, delighting to deceive our weaker sex, and when they have vitiated our honours, leave us to reap the fruit of shame and igno­miny.

My Lady I confess hath exhibited the weakness of our sex, and shown how easie our natures are to be beguil'd, who for wit and judgement in so tender years, for beauty in so springing a blossom, and for all the other endowments of nature is not to be parallel'd in all Iberia, yet hath been [Page] beguil'd by the most false and abominable among men, and hath been be­tray'd by the deceitfulness of Love, and the susceptibleness of her own nature into the arms of folly. But to tell you briefly how, and by whom this misfortune happen'd, know; My Lord Prince of the Turditanes and father to the Princesse Atalanta being forced by the chances of war, and fortune to vail his Crown to that of the Romans, took up his residence in the pleasant City of Hyspalis, and under the tuition of those generous enemies liv'd with the same security as amongst friends. I was then given to Atalanta to be her consort and her servant, my duty and my love bound me indivisibly to her interests, and from that time she made me her Confi­dent, and Repository of her secrets. For beauty begining to break forth through the clouds of her infancy, and that fair and decorous bud begin­ning to expand it self in the blossom of riper years, perstring'd the eyes of many a warlike Roman, and made them languish with desire to crop so fair a Rose. Every day added new lustre to her eyes, and every week plant­ed fresh roses in her cheeks. Each hour brought new captiv'd hearts en­chain'd to render adoration at her shrine, and the Ma [...]tialists, receiving the fire of their courage from that of her eyes, confest that the power of Venus was far greater than that of Mars. Whilst thus she encreased the glory of the City, by the same of her beauty, and whilst she had as many Lovers and Adorers as Spectators, Love (seeing her inexorable to all) was hatching a man to plague her for her cruelty. She was now in the prime of her beauty, her fair flower fully blown, and in its chiefest lustre, when the most perfidious vagabond Marcipsius (being expulsed Affrica arriv'd in the Amaene City Hispalis. To see Attalanta at that time, and not to love her, was impossible. Fame made Marcipsius covet the sight of Atalanta, which intuition set that wicked one all on fire, he being the tinder of Cu­pid, and inflam'd him with I know not what kind of lustfull and furious ar­dency.

I sat (said Lonoxia to Euripedes altering his tone) immovable at these words, but the immotions within exhibited themselves so perspicuously in my face, that the Confident of Atalanta might have seen them, had she not been so intentive upon her relation. I had much ado to with-hold from crying out when I heard this second surcharge of my misfortunes, for I fear'd whither 'twould tend, but amazement, fear and trembling ty'd my lips, and I heard her without interruption continue her discourse thus.

That imperious fire raging in the breast of this stranger, he sought for nothing but to allay its heat by the waters of fruition, for the gaining of which he rely'd more on his facundity, and outward graces of his body, than on any vertues that accompanied him. Its pity that golden boxes enchac'd with precious stones should be the Conservers of poyson; but it is more pity that men adorned with all the outward gifts and embellishments of nature should be possess'd with souls implete with Stygian vices, and ob­sest with incarnate wicked Daemons. This Marcipsius soon out-went all his Corrivals, and gaining the heart of Atalanta's father with a wondrous dexterity, he admitted him to lodge in his pallace when he knew he was the Nephew of King Bogadus, and using him with all the respect his birth oblig'd him to, he gave him convenience and opportunity (though unwil­lingly) to vitiate his own daughter. Never was there a more indulgent fa­ther, Atalanta being the comfort of his age, and her mother and sisters be­ing dead, so that he gave her all the liberty she could desire, believing her discreet and wise. She began now to loose her self in Marcipsius, and abated that pudicit severity which she had shewn to all others. She lent some ear to his flatteries, and without check gave him leave to court her. In a word, she began to love him, and to feel the tyranny of that cursed caitiffe Cupid. [Page 143] The first day that she saw him ended her happiness, and began her misery. On the other side that caitiffe Marcipsius play'd his part so cunningly, that neither Atalanta's father, nor she her self could perceive, that he lov'd her, or rather had a desire to abuse her. He had a peculiar way of speaking very gracefull and taking, whereby he would charm ears to his discourse, with ma­ny other natural endowments (which were all obscur'd by his vices) he was possest. In a short time he had wholly overcome that severe heart of A­talanta's, and subjected it under the yoak of his Tyranny, before she knew from him that he sigh'd only for her sake: At last believing by the affa­bility of my Lady that his suit would not be molestious, he very secretly, but with wonderfull passion, made it known, vowing (with wonderfull exe­crations to light upon him if he broke them) to live only for her service, and to resign at her feet his life and liberty. It is more hard to dissemble our joy than any other passion, it being apt to exhibit it self with a sprightliness in our eyes; my Lady yet so much mastered her self, that although she de­sired nothing more, she seem'd very cold to his addresses, and shewed part of her natural severity, contrary to the motions of timorous Love: But yet she did not absolutely forbid him the addressing himself any more in those terms, if she had I doubt he would not have credited her tongue to run parallel with her heart. Not to exaggerate these works of repentance in summe he nothing abashed at this first redargution continued his pro­testations with such passion, that it was no easie matter for Atalanta to withstand the letting him know she accepted of his services, considering how she lov'd him. Almost a whole year expired before she let him understand that she bore him any affection, or that his services were accepted, in which time he shew'd the greatest passion and obsequiousness that could be imagined. At last Atalanta believing that his fidelity and his love could not have ended but with his life, gave him that happiness of knowing her mind when he least expected it, and in letting him understand that his ser­vices and devoyrs were acceptable to her when he almost despaired of it. If I should recount the oaths, the vowes and the Stygian attestations that he made at that time, with the horrid and Erebous execrations he invok'd if he prov'd perfidious, it would make you tremble to think that any man should be guilty of such perjurations and curses. For our parts we thought it impos­sible for him to illude the gods, or that after those vowes and oathes he could violate them for fear of being punisht with their thunders, so that we gave the more trust to his words, and innocent Atalanta, as it were rendred her self up to him. Who would think that wicked men should take upon them the habit of vertue, the better and more securely to act their impieties, and to attain their vicious desires? O flagitious Mar­cipsius, could'st not see thy happiness! was it not enough for the desire of the whole world to do thee homage, but that thou must seek to vitiate and desile so precious a soul! Oh base twy-faced Hypocrite! so to dissemble the actions of vice under those illustrious ones of vertue! Ah Madam Sabane never was there a greater dissimulator breathing, nor one who so often vow'd what he never intended: I cannot make use of words too bad for so impious a wretch, the very double-fac'd dissembler that is, and very abstract of wickedness. We had time enough to try his vertue, and in a­nother year which for the most part he spent in the company of Atalanta, (largely recompensing her father with many Princely gifts) he seem'd to continue his love with so much ardency and obsequiousness, that it was impossible for us ever to expect the least change. My Lady, if it be not a crime to confess it, lov'd him intirely, and granted him all in honesty he could request, so that at last, pressed by his continual prayers, and judging him worthy of what he desired, in my presence she desponded her self to him, [Page 144] and promised him to confirm it by the Hymenaean pact so soon as he could dispose her father to it. He seem'd to desire nothing more, and exhibited all the Symptoms of joy a man could be capable of. He a thousand times confest his own unworthiness, and her goodness, with the great felicity and content so free a promise gave him. This nefarious man harbouring nought but desires to scelerate innocent and beguiled Atalanta, never sought to ask her of her father, but plainly seeing the love she bore him, began with wonderfull adulation to gain favours from her hands, and from trifles pro­ceeded till he had subverted the fortress of her chastity. From leaving the empresses of his lips upon her hands, he gain'd them off her lips, and then her bosome, till at length she had rendred her self too weak to withstand his flattering incitements. And having such opportunities his love never suspected by Atalanta's father, her love making her forget the thoughts of her honour, believing his passion, and crediting his vows, being as it were confident he would never forsake her, yielded a complacency to his passion, and lost her virginian gem between the arms of that Stuprator. Madam, my Lady strictly charg'd me not to extenuate her crime, but to exhibit to you the ut­most of her weakness, but I hope you will consider that the great love she bore to that detestable one, confiding in his oaths and vowes, with the irre­sistible allurements and incitments he prosecuted her with, were strong in­ducements to the subversion of her feminine resistance. I hope your com­miseration will rimate some idoneous causation for her frailty, and saply my weakness in that particular. Nevertheless if your rigorous vertue re­tard the exsuscitation of your pity, to help it, consider with how many tears, with how much dolor, with how much grief, and with how much pain she hath endeavoured not to expiate, but to bewail her folly, and to have depriv'd the earth of that happiness of bearing one so amiable, and you'l confess that her miserie hath satisfied for her fault, and that vertue when she did it was not lost but hid. But now I'le tell you this wicked Marcipsius's perfidy; When he had sufficiently abused my dear Mi­striss, and that he had satiated himself, and gain'd the end of his long suite, on a sudden he pretended letters from his father, and that there was a neces­sity of his returning if ever he hop'd to attain the Crown he ambitioned. I imagin the consternation this put Atalanta into, were all the Muses conjoyn'd to represent the passion she was in, and the grief she exhibited, they could not be able to express the third part of it. It is as much as I can say that she was seiz'd with a general stupor and astonishment, insomuch that I fear'd I should never bring her to her self again: That scelerous wretch standing by impassible, I thought she would have died in my arms, had he not ingemi­nated his vows for his sudden return, at which time he would obtain her fathers leave for her marriage. But her grief was so violent that these pro­mises could hardly give any relaxation to it, a sad Omen and sure presage of his perfidiousness and her miseries. Cruel heart not to be mollified with those tears able to have penetrated the lapidian rocks! No, he with his specious pretences and fair promises did as it were force himself from be­tween her arms, so that at last he left her but in a condition far more likely to crave a passage of the S [...]ygean Ferryman, then to live till he returned. He took his leave also of Atalanta's father with the same specious pretences and promises of returning, the last words that I spake to him were to be mindfull of that condition wherein he left Atalanta, and that he should not discover her dishonour by his long moration in Affrica. He was very profuse of his oaths, and made no conscience to delude both gods and men by an emitting thousands that he never had intention to perform. This to be detested Marcipsius being gone, all that I was able to say or do to A­talanta was too little to give her one minutes rest, for Althea opening her [Page 145] love-blinded eyes, gave her a clear view of Marcipsius's deception. Her vertuous soul returning as it we [...]e out of an inchantment began to detest its own act, and vertue, and honour appearing with their refulgent beams, gave her light to see her own contamination. Fear and horror, like two [...]uries seizing upon her, presently fell to racking her soul, and with remorse gave her Tityan torments, so that had I not watch'd her narrowly, she had perpetrated a Lucretian Tragedy. I was fain to fling by my respect, and offer violence to those fair hands in wresting from them a sharp pointed bodkin wherewith she violented her breast: she had un­doubtedly slain her self had not my force prov'd stronger than my oratory. What (said she to me whilst I strove to hinder her design against her self) will you disoblige me now in this last exigent? have I en­trusted your fidelity hitherto, and will you not prove obedient and faithfull to the end? Ah! let me not out-live my crime. Seest thou not that I am exposed to the shame and ignominy of the world? Let me die! ah let me die! Think not that thou canst restrain me long; neither think that thou dost me any savour; for thou dost but detain me in torment and mi­sery.

Ah tell my father my crime when I have expired; and beg; ah beg! in my name his pardon for contaminating his blood, but let him see that I have spirit enough to revenge it on my degenerating carcase; and that I abhor my self for it. Ah Madam (wept I forth) you shall never have cause to complain of my infidelity, but I cannot obey these too too rigorous commands. I will make satisfaction hereafter for my disobedience by my own punishment. Pardon me, pardon me, Madam, (cryed I out when I en­deavoured to force the weapon from her hand, seeing my words not pre­valent enough) if my audacity exhibit it self in the room of my woonted respect. But she darting an angry look upon me quailed my boldness; yet seeing she persisted, I rent open my bosome, and presented her my naked breast, with a voice more vehement than ordinary. Ah cruel one (cry'd I out) if you are resolved to die, at least grant me the favour of not seeing it; here, here peirce this breast, the only obstacle to your design, for think not that I will permit you to offer violence to your self whilst I live, send me first out of the world, and then follow if you are so resolved. No (replyed she feebly) I'le spare thee, and lifting up her head at that instant, she sought to have plung'd the bodkin into her breast, but her safety making me nimble, and despising all danger, I clapt my arm upon her breast, and received the stroke which ran a good depth therein. I took the blow very patiently; for smiling a little, Ah! I have prevented that fatal stroke, strike as many more such as you please: Whilst I spake, the blood circulated my arm, and running down on the flore, began to make Meandres under our feet.

Dear Atalanta beholding what she had done, had not power to pull the bodkin out of my arm, which I held extended, and lookt upon it as the best act it had ever done, glorying in that badge which it had acquired (though unwittingly on her part) from the hands of my dear Lady. See now the great strength of us females, she that even had now so much heart as to have violented her self to death, lost all her strength at the sight of my blood, and at the reflexion of what she had done, her face presently growing pale and her ey [...] stiffe she sunk down on the floor, and I had much adoe to regain her senses by flinging cold refrigerous water in her face. Ah (said she, deeply sighing) is this the gurdion then that I must give thee for thy fidelity, her eyes shedding the fairest of pearls, see see (continued she) to cure that which my unfortunate hand hath acted, let not this reproach me of my cruelty. No Madam (reanswered I) I will neither seek to cure it or wag from this place unless you promise me to leave off such unlawfull and bloody [Page 146] designes against your self. I promise it (said she) I will endure that impa­tible shame rather then injure thee, seeing thou wilt interesse thy self in my miseries; rejoycing at these words I soon bound up the wound, and playing the part of the Chirurgion my self, lest I should discover the cause of it, with bal [...]oms I at last effected the cure of it. In the mean time my Lady though [...]he had promised me not to do any violence to her self, yet her grief and torment was so excessive that in few dayes it cast her into a violent feavour, which brought her even to the portalls of deaths sable City. Her father al­most dead with the griefe his daughters sicknesse procured him sought for the skilfullest in Chiron's art to give her ease, and then he sent for this anci­ent Lady who brought her up from the cradle, who had been absent al­most a year with some of her neeces in the further part of Spain, she always loved Atalanta as her own daughter, and my Lady loved her reciprocally, which made her very comfortable to her, neverthelesse she would not con­sent, that I should tell her the true cause of her sicknesse.

At last through the favour of the Gods in blessing the Aesculapian means she recovered, though some months were first past over, in all which time we heard nothing from that sinfull perjuror and causer of our miseries: The thought of which often afflicted poor Atalanta in so much that I feared a relapse. Her governesse that good old gentle-woman wondring that her eyes were oftentimes swoln with griefe and her face looking pale and wann, would often object to her, that griefe was the greatest promoter of her di­stempers: but she could not wrest the truth from her till at last accedentally it was thus discovered, Atalanta emitting a flood of teares was entred into most sad complaints of the injury of Marcipsius, and blaming me for the retardation of her death, I feared her violences would have led her into new extravagancies. I had cast my selfe upon my knees to give her all the con­solation I could, and with my teares and prayers sought to allay her distem­pers. Her nurse suddenly surprizing us in this posture, and hearing some words that I speak to comfort her, would be no longer denyed the know­ledge of that which she was too certaine afflicted Atalanta. For what reason (said she) doe you thus exclude me the knowledge of your grief? why must I be ignorant of the cause of it? have you not confidence enough in me to entrust me with your secrets? am I not in the place of a mother? yea and my affections supply the place of maternall interest as well as my outward appearance. The love I beare you is able to overshadow all faults, and to administer helpe to your distresses by the experience of my longaevity. Atalanta could now no longer hide it from her, nor could she know how to declare it, her teares supplying the place of Speech. At last terging the fluid pearls that slid from those two Magaritiferous founts she gave me a permission to let her governesse know the sad cause of her dolor. When I had performed my relation she well saw that Atalanta's condition would not admit of any chideing, but that comforts and relaxations were more conve­nient for her, she wisely made use, of her best oratory to comfort her, and omitted her severity, which would have augmented her dolor, and made her have sunke under the burden of it. And truly I am verily per­swaded but for the continuall perswasions, and comforts of that wise Lady she had not grac't this place with her presence, at this time, but would have been resident in the Elysian fields. To satisfie our selves conerning Marcip­sius we sent one into Affrick to know what was become of him. The messenger return'd with certaine intelligence that he was not returned thither and that his father had not heard of him since his departure from Affrica. This was a renewing to Atalanta's sorrows so perspicuably to behold his deception and falsities.

The fourth month was now come since the departure of unworthy Mar­cipsius, and the growing pledge of his perfideousnesse receiving Life from the influence of genial starrs, gave notise by its lively moving to Atalanta that she was likely to become the mother of some fair infant. The old lady carefull of her honour and to prevent the ignominy that might accrew by the appearing tumour of her belly; obtain'd permission of her father to change the aire for her healths sake.

He would have accompanied her but the lady with many reasons perswaded him to the Contrary, promising in little time to bring her from her melancholy, and to restore her to her perfect health. He knowing the wisdome and discretion of her Governesse, and hopeing to see the clouded browes of Atalanta reclear'd, and to possesse their former lustre, gave way to this separation and assigneing this place, (which the Romans had left him with many others) for our retirement, we passed hither with these few servants, avoyding all publike invisagements, await­ing the time when she shall disburden (that which she termes) her shame.

We had been but few weeks in this place so commodious for our sequestra­tion, and so delectable for the tyred senses of Atalanta, but that her grief rather encreasing than diminishing made us allmost dispair of her recovery. Neverthelesse she was so much taken with the place that she resolved never to leave it, finding so much convenience for her melancholy. There was nothing that wit could produce or the power of Love imagine that we did not make tryall of for her diversion. For my part when I heard her exclame against her self; and with most bitter remonstrances end­eavour to make her self odible; I on the contrary, and more justlie, spit out the anger I had conceiv'd against that wretch in dire execrations for his perfidie, who was the cause of all her misery. O strange power of Love! O wronged innocency! do you think she could hear the least reproach utter'd against him? no alas! she had not lov'd him so poorly as to hate him for his basenesse. She would not permit me to speake against him but even sought with many excuses to justify his breach of promise. Blame him not (would she say) let all reproaches be lay'd upon me, and it might in justice be so, account me as the loosest wretch that lives, as the most dispicable thing that breaths, as the insulsest animall voy'd of reason, wit, or Judgment, so to part with my honour, so to obscure my virtue. But blame not I say Marcipsius, it may be he is not living, how know we but that the seas have prov'd his grave? how know we but that his Ghost silently reproaches us for thus falsly accuseing him? it may be fetters detaine him, and who knows but he dyes a thousand times a day for fear I should reproach him for his stay? he is not return'd, why then should we conceive thus ill of him? he hath not yet been in Africa, why then should we not thinke that either death, bonds, wounds, imprisonment, or some such accident detaines him, and deprives us of the happinesse of seeing him? Ah! madam (I'de answer) how good are you to this criminall, but I fear you wrong the laws of charity, I rather thinke that haveing forgotten you, or at least remembting you with de­rision he is endeavouring to beguile some other; and to betray some such in­nocent creature with his facinating looks. Let it be so then (she'd reply faintly) neverthelesse speak not against him, I cannot endure it, 'cause I love him, would I had one I could entrust, I would send once more into Africa, it may be he may be return'd by this. Why madam (said I) have you lost the confidence you were wont to repose in me? can you say you want a confident whilst I am with you. No dear one (said she) but thou art not fit for such a voy­age, I ment one of the robuster sex, who might have sought him out where ever he is, and satisfy my doubting minde whether I have accus'd him wrong­fully or no. My Love is not so small madam (said I) but that I could under­take [Page 148] a far greater voyage than this for your sake, and for your content engage my self into greater perills, say not I pray you then that you need any, since I am both willing and ready to undertake it. At last I gain'd her consent to let me take the voyage upon me, and investing my self with those viril garments you saw me in I crossed over to Mauritania leaving her big with the expecta­tion of the issue of my voyage. Making a deligent perquisition I understood at Lixus that Marcipsius was with his father, and how that his youngest brother [...]ad slain the day before my arrivall the other named Massanissa, and that Lonoxia, being very young, who did it, was banisht by his father. These things being tragicall, yet not any thing concerning me I resented nothing but on Marcipsius being there. The next day I went to speake with him and gaining at length private audience I ask'd him if he had forget me: and when I saw he did not know me, I pull'd out a letter which I had received from Atalanta and gave him. After he had read it, with passion little enough. Is it posible (said that cursed wretch) that she should complaine on me? attend (said he to me) to morrow and I will return an answer to your lady's letter. My eyes at these words flam'd with indignation, and my heart [...]iseing against him, I felt great pain in striving to smother those reproaches I had prepar'd for him, which I did by reason that I would see the utmost of his wickednesse, and that I would not exasperate him before I had receiv'd the letter from him. As little notice as he took on me he knew me well enough, for my lady had in her letter given him notise that it was I presented him with the letter, and knowing this, I was out of measure enraged, but with­out venting on word I returned, giveing him notice I would wait on him according to his appoyntment. Hardly sleeping all night for the passion the carriage of that devill, (for he deserves not the title of humane) had put me in; the next day I went to enquire for him, when his servants told me that he was departed without the notice of any, presently after I had left him.

At this news I was so disturb'd that they Judg'd by my actions that I was dis­tracted, I stampt, tore my hair, my face and clothes, and call'd him a thousand traitours. But at last I vow'd ne'r to return to Atalanta till I had found this traitour out, and vented my reproaches to his face. Guided by fury and rage I left the city, being assured by divers that saw him leave it, that he was gone and with most diligent pervestigations I spent five or six weeks in vaine, visiting all the cheifest places in Mauritania, and inquireing after him with unweariable paines, till at lest I heard of him in the city of Tingis. Resolv­ing to give him no opportunity to escape I awaited a time till I spied him without the City walking under the shade of some trees not far from the palace wall of King Bogadus. After a little while I perceiv'd him to draw a kind of tablet out of his pocket on which he busied himselfe with great inten­tivenesse, so that I had the opportunity to come behind him and spied the ef­figies of some lady I knew not. But suddenly takeing hold on him. Traitor (said I) you shall not easily escape my reproaches now, for what reason hast thou thus abused me? He turn'd hastily about and perceiving it was I, I saw he was amazed, but strugling with me sought to be gone. My small strength at that time so engag'd him that he could not easily disentangle himself, from my armes and leggs. Stay traitor (said I) stay and hear what I have to say: then I ask'd him again whether he had forgot his vowes and oaths, and why he had abused Atalanta: See here (answered that ungratious and boldly impudent one, holding to me the tablet which he held in his hand) the cause of my change; this beauty hath a crown to give as well as pleasure. Ah vile monster! (cryed I out aloud) right African brood, doubly deceitfull Marcipsius! can'st thou thus impudently behold me, the wittnesse of thy Crimes, of thy oaths, vowes, imprecations? do'st not remember (perjur'd wretch!) the execrations, vengeance, and plagues [Page 149] thou invok'd, and wisht might fall upon thee if thou brakest thy promise?

Ah devill! are the Gods so unjust to foreslow their vengance on thy accursed head? Vilaine! who shall restore Atalanta the honour thou hast rob'd her of? Scelerous wretch! let the God of Hospitalty the great Jove, plague thee for the wrong thou hast done to thy entertainer! let all the Cyclopean weapons be thrown upon thy neck, let new invented tor­ments, and everlasting plagues be sought for thee! Promethean paines are too easie for thy nefarious heart: Sysiphean labour is too gentle; Ixionian grinding not bad enough, an eternall Marsyan excoriation will hardly suffice for to reward thee for the wrong thou hast done to one who is worthy to tryumph over the whole world, and now languisheth in misery through thy means, did I think it would be accepted of Atalanta I would endea­vour to deprive thee of thy wretched life with these hands: but the Gods will e're long plague thee with thy own wishes, and exterminate thy life for thy perjury. As I ended these words I perceiv'd a back dore of the pallace to open, and a young lady with her attend [...]ts to come forth thereat, who it may be were excited thither by my vociferation. Marcipsius fearing his wickednesse should be discovered drew his sword and pres [...]nting it to my breast swore if I departed not immediately he would transpierce my heart. I was nothing solicitous of my life being enraged at his wickednesse so that I stopt not for his threats but continued calling him, traitor, stuprator and what ever rage first exhibited. He made a thrust or two at me, although he knew I had no weapon, nor was of a sex to contend with him, but I shifted well enough; and to plague him the more I ran towards the Lady crying beware of this villaine, this facinorous Marcipsius, that trator, that violator of faith, and honesty, that corruptor and vitiator of virgins.

The wicked Marcipsius cried out to them; have a care of that mad man, and running with his sword drawne made as if he had defended them, till they were got within the posterne, when he following them left me still craving the Gods to punish him for his Scelerity. After I had wearied my self with exclaiming I return'd into the city, and embarquing for Spain I at last (after some retardation by the winds) got safe to this place, where I gave my fair mistresse this sad relation, which was the cause of that heavy dolor you found her in when your sympathizing tears mixt with hers. Wonder no more at her excesse of Laments, since you know what cause she hath to complaine.

Atalanta's confident thus ended her discourse, and casting her eye upon me to expect those words which I ought to have express'd against so egregious a perfidy; she saw that I sat like an image wherein neither life nor soul had any residence. She spake to me, she toucht me, she pull'd me, but I neither hear'd, nor felt, for indeed grief, so much augementd by the knowledg that I must loose the sovereign of my soul, caus'd through my brothers wickednesse, had taken away the use of all my senses, and left me altogether impassible. If be­fore I could have lov'd her after her pollution, I could not think now of en­joyning her, after I knew it was my own brothers defilement. Grief and a­mazedness held me a long time in this benummedness, which the maid seing & fearing some sudden sicknesse, screem'd out, being affrighted at my palenesse. Atalanta came thither before I had recovered my selfe from that kind of Syncopy. But in coming to my self, ah cur'st traitor! sigh'd I out: ah in­evitable ruin of my Life! Atalanta wonder'd at the extraordinary passion and interest I shew'd at the knowledg of her misfortunes, which did endear me the more unto her: But seing me in that condition they would have conveigh'd me to bed, till I at last perfectly recovering my self diverted their intentions, and [Page 150] asham'd at the trouble I had put them to, I excus'd it as well as I could. Dear Sabane (said Atalanta) you are too much mov'd at the misfortunes of another, I cannot but wonder that your magnanimous soul bearing your own so well should be so much troubled at the audition of mine. The most saxean hearts madam (replyed I) cannot but commiserate your condition, nor none that shall hear your misfortunes but will curse that perfidious Marcipsius. But that which so much amazed me was, that that wicked vitiator should be so blinded as not to see his own happynesse, but should forsake a beauty to which the Gods themselves might have lay'd a clame; as being too good for the best of men.

These words imbued the native virmilion of her cheeks with a deeper crim­son in graine: See see continued I poynting to the wall which at that time (by reason of a damp) stood full of moyst drops on his hard side the very stones send forth their sudor, and seem to generate teares out of their rocky substance, that they might make you see by their weeping they have some kinde of feeling of your misfortunes, can you then wonder how I should be so much mov'd, when inanimates else would convince me of obduratenesse. I see (replyed she a little smiling) that there is no contending with one that out of all objects will raise some evincing argument. I that before was a comforter, lack'd now to be comforted, I that allwayes coveted the company of Atalanta, now oftentimes shun'd it that I might secreetly vent my complaints, and feed my sadnesse with solitary soliloquies, all things were quite altered, and I could not but be amaz'd as griev'd at the versutous power of that mutable Goddess. They all saw my change but they could not well divine what might be the reason of't, I was now wholly eaten up with sadnesse, and consum'd my time in trouble, in teares, and complaints, against heaven, earth, Marcipsius, and my self. In the very extreemi­ty of my trouble I should oft cry out ah! I am constrain'd I am constrained to leave thee! Atalanta began to repay those comfortable speeches I was us'd to so­lace her with, and to become my physitian as I had been hers, which indeed in­sted of comforting me encreast my dolor, when I thought on my loss, for by how much the more she was good to me, and by how much the more the goodnesse of her nature was exhibited, by so much the more I bewail'd my losse, and con­sidered the greatnesse of my misfortune. This grief and trouble continuing, it at last induc'd me to a sicknesse, which perplexed every one of that small fami­ly by reason of the Love they bore me, but Atalanta principally seem'd to for­get her own trouble to engage her self into mine, and sought the acquireing of my health almost with the losse of her own. In this sicknesse I found some re­laxation of my grief, and by degrees began to overcome it, and to be conten­ted with my fortune. Not that I lost any part or jot of the love I bore Atalanta but framing my selfe, seeing I could no longer love her as a mistres, to love her as a sister, and to keep my love entire without desire of any other pos­session then I enjoyed. To comfort and please my self with this kind of Platonick love: to love only for virtues sake, to have a passion with out car­nal defires I sought many arguments to maintaine it to my self, that it was the best love, and seem'd most Caelestiall. I would thus sometimes say to my self.

What is a little moment of pleasure that I should endure thus much pain for it? For what is all this grief but because I cannot enjoy Atalanta? It is not because she loves me not, or because she despises me, but because I have lost that carnall pleasure which I had hop'd to enjoy. Surely that Love cannot be good which so poorly covets for its own ends. I love her, why? because I might enjoy her. Shall I not love her [...]ow I am sure I shall not enjoy her? or shall I pine my self to death for that which often times quenches the flames of love? No doubt but Marcipsius lov'd her before he enjoy'd, but in enjoying her his love was quench'd. Seeing therefore after some small pleasure the flames [Page 151] of Love are often extinguished, or abated, is it not better to love with­out ends or any other desire of enjoyment than that which is between a brother and sister; which is pure and caelestiall and not subject to decay? Let it be so and then there will be no obstacle for this love; no doubt but her amity if she knows me, will grant this in consideration of my love and honesty. I may enjoy all the pleasures that may be, except that which serves but to put out the fire of glowing love. Hath not my pleasure been ex­cessive, in this small time that I have been here? and have I not thought that possession could give me no greater pleasure? This same I may still enjoy, which is purer than ordinary love, uncontaminate, full of chasti­ty, free from vitious thoughts and desires, and kindled not by Cupid but by Jove, being a sparke or scintilla of the same fire, where with he en­flames our soules with love to himselfe, and which we exhibit in loveing virtue, which is his gift: this love will not faile, this is past the power of for­tune to crosse, with many such discourses as these I sought prettily to be­guile my self, and at last I resolved ro love her as my sister, since I could not enjoy her as my mistris.

In this resolution I persisted, and beguiling my grief, recovered my health: I began (and verily at last effected it) to banish not the love, but the im­moderate desire I had to Atalanta. I did not present her to my imagination (as I us'd to do) in my armes, or in those close unseen embraces of lov­ers; yet did I not banish her thence but look't upon her as part of my soule and for whose content the sacrifizeing of my life was but a trifle, and (whe­ther it was my imagination or no I will not determine) I thought I felt stronger flames and stronger love than ever, it seemed to be a far different fire, more pure, more celestial, seemed to afford more content and plea­sure than the other.

Whilst I thus pleas'd my self in this new kind of love and every day en­joyed the utmost of my wishes, time who had seem'd to me to borrow pen­neous sailes for his greater speed, brought forth that moneth wherein A­talanta expected her lying down. The time was very near that she had so long expected, and now a new grief possest me, in that I must be forc'd to leave her, and new fear possessed me in that I must be forc'd to make my self known to her. I still boar her a passionate love and dreaded her anger as much as Jove's thunder. But there was a necessity of it, Modesty would not permit me to stay any longer to be present at an action which required only the presence of the bearing sex. I could not tell how to depart, nor to be absent at the time of her delivery without her knowing what I was, seeing this necessity I resolved at length to make my self known to her, but fear and trouble so long detered it, that Atalanta fell sick and kept her bed and looked every hower for her paritude, when I saw there was no time for any cunctation I embraced the first opportunity which was the next day after she had taken her bed, and being alone with her I sat down by her upon the bed side, but so full of feare and trembling that I was not able to unglew my lips, and my face so pale that it exhibited I was going about an action on which depended the quiet of all my remaining dayes. I know not any thing like to the trouble I was in at that time knowing my selfe guilty of deludeing that innocent. I sat a while with a wondrous emotion within me at last disturbing her repose with my ingeminated sighs, I could not refraine from shedding some love drops. Atalanta fixing her eyes upon mine, and reading the trouble in my face, what (said she) are these tears to supply the place of mine? indeed I have through excesse drawn my springs dry, but it is unequall that you should so much sorrow for my crime. No Maddam (said I tremblingly) it is for my own crimes that I weep, and for the trouble I have that I must leave you. I emitted these words with so languishing an air, that [Page 152] they peirc't her gentle soul: leave me? (replyed she) I hope you will not leave me in this distresse: By your comforts I have been preserv'd and now I have most need of them do you speak of leaving me; what is the reason Sa­bane? alas! I am too unworthy for thy company, I am too contaminate for thy purity. At those words reaching out her hand which might have been compared with the mountaine snow she lockt it within mine, and with an action full of love, pressed it between hers, her eyes then shew'd that her springs were not utterly dry, or else that love had caused new ones. This action piercing my heart I was not able to do any thing but suspire, but at last bringing forth words and sighs together. Ah! maddam (said I) the time is come that I must be forc't to leave you; the Gods for these few months have made me happy by your sight and now they will make me more misera­ble by forceing me to leave you. There is but one thing that I can hope for, and that's your pardon without which my death is inevitable, but my crime is so great that I can expect no mercy from you, did I not know that your goodnesse far excells all others that live.

I saw by her amazednesse that she knew not the meaning of these aenigma's, But (proceeded I) the time is now come, according to the appointment of the Gods that my deceit must be manifested, that I must implore your good­nesse for my life, and pardon for my crime, or dye for the expiation of my fault: behold an impostor, (flinging my selfe upon my knees as I spake) that hath wronged you, that hath deluded you, say, can you find in your heart to forgive one who hath abused your goodnesse by an imposture? Sabane (said Atalanta much amazed) what meane you▪ can you have committed any thing against me that should deserve this? Let it be what it will I pardon it, if it be any thing that you think you have committed against me, my soul is not dearer to me than thou art, draw me out of this trouble which thou hast caused quickly, dear Sabane! I must not suffer you any longer in this error (returned I) you have been abused long enough, I am no longer Sabane but (as you may well know my deceit) I am Lonoxia brother to the wicked Marcipsius, he it is that was banisht his fathers pallace, that acci­dentally was transported to Olissipo, that espied your charmes at a distance walking on the river Tagus, that then ost his heart and vowd it to you as his peculiar Goddesse, and lastly investing himself with this ha­bit, to enjoy that happinesse without which he was no longer able to live, he invented a figment to deceive you, and all this time hath been an impo­stor, and now knowing through a strange providence how nearly you have been engaged to his brother, he quits all pretensions of being your servant any further than the laws of civillity and duty bind. Atalanta at that in­stant let goe my hand, and looking upon me with an eye, in which I saw at once both pity and anger, killed and revived my soul at the same time. Blushes and palenesse took their turnes in her cheecks, and amazed she stay'd in a suspence, not knowing how to answer, which caused me to speak thus. Maddam behold a criminall that implores your goodnesse, though I must confesse my crimes of so high a nature that they are almost impardona­ble with the most mercifull. I deserve to be hated if I had been innocent, in that I am allied so nearly to hatefull Marcipsius. But ah Atalanta! for­get these resentments, and let pity exuscitate your pardon, remember that you have promised of what nature soever my crimes were to grant it! re­member the love you have borne Sabane, let it not be converted to hatred to Lonoxia! That is it I beg may be continued, that your opinion of my goodnesse may not be diminished by this knowledge. Alas to forgive my crimes and to hate me is but to kill me through grief, I will freely offer my life as an expiament for my imposture, so that after my death, you will but retain me whole in your memory without remembring my crimes. Remem­ber [Page 153] that Sabane, though an impostor never did any thing that may make your virtue blush to remember it. It was love made me excurre into this crime, on that I lay all the fault, that you may be the better induced to forgive me, since your selfe have been deceived by him. Love I say Love hath been of such force as to make me thus disguise my self, happy disguise, under which I have received so many favours of divine Atalanta, under which I have received that content which might have been envied by the Gods, un­der which I have enjoyed the sight of my titular angell. But cursed dis­guise! under which I have prov'd an Impostor to innocent Atalanta. I have loved you hoping rhat time might have made me worthy through my long services, to have attained to that which now is not lawfull to thinke on: But by a peculiar providence of the Gods finding that my brother hath made you his, though (accursed!) he hath forsaken you, my designes which were honest, are diverted, and I forced at length after my sorrow and sicknesse to confesse it; neverthelesse, though I desire nothing at your hands, my Love is inconvertible, but it beares the same stamp that a brothers hath to a sister, or is the same that your self (divin Atalanta!) bore to the faign­ed Sabane, after this free agnition let the remembrance of Sabane stir up your pity, your pity your pardon, and your pardon give life to Lonoxia, who else dies to satisfie you for his imposture. I ended with these words, and my eyes being full of tears I awaited her sentence. Remaining thus for somtime I saw that this sudden and unexpected accident had made her im­movable. What maddam (said I) cannot you yet determine what sentence to passe on this wretch, whether life or death? Alas! though you'r lought to e­mit so severe a sentance from so meak a soul, I perceive you'd have the im­postor dye, but you'r lought to passe the sentance from your mouth: you are not in a suspence whether he ought to live or no, but whether you ought to command it. Well! ile satisfie you without bidding; the crime is too great to be pardoned, yet say (dear Atalanta)! as I have been an impostor, so [...] have been obsequious, and faithfull in the love I bore you, consider all the ancidents of Sabane and you will be forc'd to say that although Lonoxia followed the motions of his love & passion, yet he never transcur'd the bounds of vertue, and lastly say I was wlling (as far as able) to satisfie for all my crimes. At that instant trembling and casting my eyes about I espied a knife at the beds feet which I suddenly snatched, and plucking open my bosome. I will, I will Madam (cryed I) give you satisfaction, this shall execute your will. As I lifted up my hand to have let her seen that I regarded my life lesse than her love, and fear'd the loosing of it lesse than the acquiring her anger, she caught hold on my arme; Sabane (said she) so I must yet call you, I can­not consent to this rigorous chastizement. I confesse you have much a­mazed me, and I should be more difficult to believe what you tell me, did I not see the same virtue Sabane hath hitherto exhibited to remain still in Lonoxia. But I command (if my words may have any power) that you forbear to injure your self, and give me some time to revolve this accident in my mind. Madam (said I letting go the knife which she took from me) I obey you, I have wholly devoted my self to your service, and though I may have purchased your hatred and displeasure, it shall never be acquired by my disobedience. Saying this I kissed her hand and de­parted.

I betook my selfe to the solitary walks, and found a great relaxtion in my mind in that I had passed over that difficulty that so oppressed me, and that I perceiv'd the Love she bore me in the faign'd condition of Sabane, had taken too great an impression to be obliterated by the knowledge that I was Lonoxia. I had not walked two hours but that the confident of Atalanta came to invite me to her mistris's chamber. I followed her with perturbati­on [Page 154] enough. I there found her governesse with her, to whom she had related who I was, who riseing from her bed side as I came in, I know not (said she) what compellation to give you, not how to behave my self towards you, since the knowledg of your sudden Metamorphosis. We are so accustomed to Sabane, that we know not how to call you Lonoxia. But since you are no longer what we have taken you for, you must not be discontented if we are more severe, since modesty commands it. You have put Atalanta into no small passion by the knowledg of what you are, since she has shewn those favours to Sabane, which shames her to think they were given to Lonoxia: And indeed it was enough justly to purchace her hatred, had not the love she bore to Sabane, made her consider the virtuous deportments of Lonoxia, and forces her not to follow the dictates of her irritated humour. I have at last pacified her, and she hath given me leave to tell you, that she will equally ballance, the vertuous cariage, care, love, and troubles of Sabane against all the crimes of Lonoxia, and the Love she bore you under that name, against the hatred you might have acquired under this: So that she seales your pardon, and will not think amisse of your virtue. Ravish'd at these words I cast my self at her feet. Ah Madam (cry'd I) now I can dye content! this is more than I have merited, but it pleases the goodnesse of Atalanta to be equally mercifull with the Gods. The ancient Lady rais­ing me from that humble posture led me to Atalanta's bed side, who blush­ing gave me her hand in sign of confirmation of what her Governesse had said. Ah (said she sighing) have I made known my weaknesse to a man! strange providence! the brother of the causer of my woes. The fidelity and Loyalty of the one (said her Governesse) shall repay the perfideousnesse and disloyalty of the other. Who'd thinke nature▪ could produce two such contraries out of one Venter, the one is not so wicked, but the other is as good, the one is the abstract of Iniquity, the other of Goodnesse and constancy. Many such prayses that lady out of the depth of her Goodnesse was pleas'd to give me. At their request I gave them the relation of my life, and how providentially I was brought to Olissippo, with the beginning of my Love. Me thought (said Atalanta) I saw the lineaments of Marcipsius face in yours, when I first saw you, but I attributed it to the effect of a vain imaginatioin: That treacherous one hath not alone prov'd perfidious to me, but a foe and traitour to you. They were pleas'd to Commiserate my condition, although their own were enough to imploy all their thoughts. The deception of Mar­cipsius held us in discourse the rest of the day, at last they concluded, since the providence of the Gods was so manifestly seen in bringing me to that place, that I should take care of the Infant that should be produc'd into the world, and to bear it thence, least the Crime of Ata­lanta should be made conspicuous to the world. Thus past I over the dif­ficulty that affrighted me, and after my discovery became serviceable to Atalanta.

They thought it not convenient to discover me to the rest of the ser­vants, and therefore I was permitted to wear the habit I had assum'd and enjoy the happinesse of seeing and being often with Atalanta, who many times complain'd that I was not Sabane, that she might expresse her Love with that endearednesse she had us'd to do: And for my part I loved her as intirely as if we had been produc'd out of one Venter. Five dayes after my discovery the hower came wherein Atalanta was to under­go the paines of child-birth, and to become the unhappy mother of some fair Infant. Whilst? with painfull throwes she was produceing into the world the fruit of her furtive pleasures I walked in my usuall places [Page 155] of solitude, and with continuall prayers invok'd Lucina to her aid. But surely some envious Juno retarded her paritus, and made her endure an Al [...]mae [...]ean travell, for before Ilithya eas'd her throws, by giving birth to a fair and pretty boy, she counted twice twelve howers in those bloody sweats, and was left with little hope of life. After I was made acquain­ted with the birth of the Infant, I departed to Olis [...]ippo to prepare a barque for my transportation to Lixus, where I knew I had friends enough that would keep the child secretly. I soon hired one for that purpose, and ap­poynting the time when I would come, I return'd and being admitted to see Atalanta I sound her so weak and faint, that all their endeavours could hardly keep life in her. After they had made that little one rea­dy, and had indued it with mantells, and rich jewells suteable to its quality, they gave it to Atalanta to take her leave of it, which she did with many bitter teares, and scalding sighs. Go (said she in deli­vering it to me) b [...]be of sorrw, the Gods may give thee life to revenge the death of thy mother on thy ungratefull father. Go seek thy dessiny in this miserable world, thou art born in Sorrow, and art expos'd in thy tender dayes to the inexorable rage of For­tune.

May the Gods be more propitious in thy growing yeares, and change these thy miseries into Gladnesse. Though thou art the fruite of my crimes, innocent babe, yet thou art part of my self, and I cannot part with thee without bewaileing thy losse with teares that spring from the depth of the fountaine of sorrow. Alas! innocent, thou must suffer for thy mothers crimes, and be expos'd to miseries for to save her honour. We seeing that she would spend the remainder of her strength, in these querimonies, took the Child out of her sight, but at parting, Lonoxia (said she) 'tis to you I commmit this in­fant, and to your care and tuition, his life and nurture: by that love you have bore me forsake him not whilst life shall last, but in him allways call to minde the distressed Atalanta. Her weaknesse would not permit her any more words, but teares and sighs inheri­ted their room. Mine gave me leave at last to take my leave of her, and to assure her whilst I liv'd, my life should be onely for the pro­tection of the Infant. I parted but with a heavinesse that presag'd my ensueing miseries. Most of the servants still ignor'd the cause of Atalanta's sicknesse, so that we were fain to conveigh the child enclos'd in a chest to Olissippo, where I embarqu'd, and with all the speed could possible be made set our prow toward Lixus.

A gentle gale set us off that shore on which the humerous mares conceiving with the aur [...]'s of the favonian wind, brought forth their short liv'd colts. We were come allmost in sight of the desired shore when the caprichious ele­ment leaving its tranquillity assaulted the sides of our vessel with its liquid bil­lows, and the inauspicious apparition of the parted twinns gave the mariners an assured signe of an ensuing storm. Presently the furious winds mustering their forces on the plaines of the ocean, began to astuate the face of the waters, into living mountaines, which moveing with a horrible sight, threatned us with a tumulation under their liquid ruins, but our barque forceing its way to the top of those watry rocks, with the like impetuosity descended down their [...]ideing backes.

The other Element angry that the force of the windes, nor the fury of the waters, could neither overturne, nor drown our vessell, seem'd to promise our deaths by the fires that assaulted us; and day betraying us to the discomfortable shades of night, left us no light but what the sudden flashes of the threatning lightning gave, which was accompained with a tonitruous eccho that took a­way [Page 156] the audition of those crys, our wretched copartners in these miseries made. For my part I had sorrow enough to behold into what danger fortune had cast that Infant as soon as 'twas borne, who yet without perturbation, and insensi­ble of its own death satisfied it self with the dulcid liquor of its nurses breasts. Our ship slead for many leagues before the fury of the winds, on those roughned plaines, the strength of the mariners proving too weak to strive with the violence of that impetuous storm, they committed it to the mercy of the winds and water, and prepared themselves to receive an inevitable death. Morning appearing, but the storme not ceasing, we still rode upon the dangerous waves, till at last our barque shattered with the continuall batteries both of Boreas and Neptune, gave entrance to that aquatick enemy into its very bowells, and running a leak presantly was fill'd with water. Every one sought to save himself, but there was no meanes to escape perishing, some cut the tackle, others the masts, others cast themselves before hand into the sea, at last the ship sanke, at which so horrible and lamentable a cry, proceeded from those deplorable wretches that I thought it would have relented the Gods of their Cruelty to have sav'd them miraculously. The child being laid in the chest which admitted no water, was tossed upon the waves, and caried out of my sight in a moment: The desire I had to see Atalanta made me endeavour, to save my life, which I cid by gaining the mast of the Ship, on which I sat and beheld the rest perish in the sea, without being able to afford them help.

I was driven for Some howers by the waves, which many times had allmost made me forgo my hold, with their violences, and playing with my looser garment had put me to much trouble to keep steady on that dancing pole, when at last by the favour of the Gods I was espied by a vessel which yet tryumph'd o're the storme, which at that time slack­ning its violence gave them the liberty of saving me. The vessell was bound for Spain, so that they were easily induc'd to land me at Olisippo for the rewards I profer'd them, all the jewells and things of worth that were about me I bestow'd on them. The pilot being very skillfull in his art set me ashore in the Haven of Olissippo in spite of the raging waters. I presently repaired to Atalanta's Ile, and being admitted, I was made ac­quainted that she had not many minutes to live. The greif that then af­flicted me its impossible to relate, I ran to her bed side and like one distacted ask'd her many foolish and impertinent questions, as why she for sake us? and why she should not endure any companies in this world? and why she would not overcome her grief and sorrow? The old lady with her chief­est maids weeping by her made a very sad and dolefull spectacle, but she glad that she was departing from this world, wherein she had receiv­ed so much sorrow and greif, lay smiling at the frowns of death, and em­brac'd him with a chearfull countenance.

Assoon as she saw me she invited me with her dying eyes to draw near; in the mean time those that stood by her bed side seeing she de­sired privacy withdrew a little. She first ask'd me concerning the child whose misfortunes I hid from her, lest the knowledg of that might have shortned those few moments she had to live. I told her that it was saf­ly provided for, and that she should not fear but that I would imploy the remainder of my dayes in fullfilling her desire. This is all then said she, besides what allready I have told you, that you let Marcipsius know he was the cause of my death, and if he publisheth my dishonour I hope though he be your brother that you will desend me. One thing yet grievs me and that is that I must part with Sabane; her teares and weak­nesse stopp'd her here; and I with the excesse of passion could not an­swer her one word, but kneeling down I gave her an assurance by my eyes that I would effect what ever she commanded, my teares shew'd [Page 157] her with what resentment I beheld her dyeing, and the greatnesse of my grief clearly deprived me of my senses. At that time arrived Atalanta's father whom they had sent for, and coming where his daughter lay, he shewed his love was excessive, for, beholding her ready to expire, he fell by her side, and had almost deceived all their hopes of ever fetching him again, but at last coming to himself he embraced the dying Atalanta, who had the content to expire in his armes. When they saw she was dead, then began a heavy ejulation, all seeking to express their passion by their several gestures and actions. The old man to [...]e his hair, and beard, and calling aloud on his daughter seemed as if he would have made his voice pierce to the centre of the earth, and revoked the absent spirit of his daughter, every one was copartner with him in his grief, so that 'twas difficult to know who were most interested in her death.

A heart of slint must have melted at those lament [...]ble mournings, and bewaisings and it was not a few houres that gave them respite in their pas­sion. I had got on the further side of her bed, and placeing my self hard by her dead ca [...]casse, I fell on her pillow with the extremity of my passion, and there lay so senslesse that it was hard to judge who was deadest. But after a long time my senses returning to exercise their functions, I cast my eyes obscured with teares on that face which triumphing over death carri­ed yet weapons enough to have captivated the stoutest hearts. The conque­ring lillies began now to overcome the roses in her cheeks, and they as it were yeilding to the hand of fate sunke their blushing heads under the snow of her cheeks, which gave a kind of a dying tincture to the white. There was nothing to be seen of death but want of heat and motion, and had you but seen her you would have said that it was the fairest of the gra­ces, that in the kingdome of Morpheus was taking her sweeter repose. My griefe permitted me not to read to my self lectures of mortality, but by stimulating considerations put me into motions of sury, Oh! how often I secretly curst that cruell brother, how often I vowed her revenge, and how often resolved I to sarcrifice the Life of Marcipsius, on the altar of vengance, 'twas these resolutions that kept me from following that faire one to the Elisian shades, and ty'd me to endure those sorrows by living, which I was necessitated to undergo since she was dead.

But the old Lady having f [...]r different considerations, fearing (as 'twas suppos'd) the indignation of the Prince, since she was the seeming cause that his daughter was remov'd thither, where she dyed, retiring into a closset pierc'd her ancient breast with a ponyard, and so emitted her soule to follow Atalanta's. Atalanta's maide, with some others whose others whose love to her had transported them had effected the same emission of life had they not b [...]en hindred by others, so that the opinion of the In­dians seem'd to possesse them, that souls want the service of others in the o­ther world, and that they out of a sence of love and duty would follow A­talanta to the Elisium.

When that they had tyred, but not satisfied themselves with weeping, they were sain to resolve for the interment of that lovely carcase which was yet vain without its more heavenly part the soul. I will not stand to discribe that funerall pomp though the statelinesse and richnesse of it gave admiration and matter of discourse for all Sp [...]ine. For the old prince having lost that rare and inestimable jewell his daughter for whom he preserv'd his other riches, so little regarded them, that he bestowed his whole treasure in her interment, and buried with her, a masse of Gold and pretious stones. I was an assistant in these sad ceremonies, but my griefe took from me all observance. The father of Atalanta beeing conversant with the Romans observ'd many of their ceremonies in the interment, and many things he [Page 158] had which was new and of his own institution. That lovely corpes haveing laine extinct seven dayes in which were emitted a thousand Conclamations if that could have recalled her from her eternall sleep, it was eviscerated and condited by some Roman pollinctors: And on the Acerra was offerred a con­tinuall and daily incense till the day of her exequial shew. The prince sparing for no cost imployed so many workmen that he had prepared all things a­gainst the time of buriall to his minde, and shew'd the little value he set upon riches since his daughter was dead. I should darken the splendor of that pomp should I goe about to tell it you, for it far surpass'd both for riches and funerary heavinesse, all that ever the Romans shewed in their exequies. Above a thousand small vessels whose sides were of black ebon oar's, of the same, and sailes and tackle of obnigerous silke with many precious stones fastned to them, which glittring seem'd like so many starrs in a black firma­ment. The night being witnesse of these sad ceremonies they supplyed the want of Sol with I know not how many thousand tapers which so enbright­ned the place that the vessells with ease saw how to place themselves in or­der, and the Tagus groan'd under the weight of so great a multitude, and hid his head for feare of so many fires; least they had been come to have burnt up all his waters. In the fore part of these funerall ships were plac'd certaine men with trumpets and other instruments who sounded them with tristfull notes according to the heavy plangor and ejulation of the praeficae and funcrae that followed. six vessels richer than the former followed, three of which were fill'd with little youths dressed up like little Cupids all in mourning attire, who with a Lydian strain sung the Thornodia with heavenly voyces, which would have drawn teares from slinty hearts, had not the sadnesse of the occasion been a greater motive to a totall dissolution into tears. The three other vessels was fill'd with the fait'st puella's that part of Spaine could afford, who in their black attires drest like Nymphs (which seem'd to vail their bea­ties) accorded with sweet harmony their voyces (which surpast the mu­sick of the spheres) to the sad notes of divers harpes, Lutes, Lyres, Cit­terns, and other musick on which they play'd. In the mid'st of them one taller than the rest representing Melpomene sweetly and sadly Cithari­zeing to her voyce, sung the Epicedium with accents ravishingly sweet.

After these in order followed the other vessels fill'd with those that came to accompany Atalanta to her interment. At the end of which traine a greater vessell than the rest shining on all parts with the splendor of rich stones encompasted about with divers vessels full of lights sadly followed the rest, in which was Atalanta's corps, plac'd in a bed in fashion of a throne inestimable for the richnesse that adorn'd it. About which sat the Prince, my self, and her servants, making a concention with sighs and groans. Behind that bed in another lay the Lady, with other servants paying their last duty in tears and fighs about her. In this manner we went to Olissippo, and landing went to a temple consecrated to the Superbious Juno where in a vault arch'd over with marble and embos'd, with precious stones she was lai'd with the ancient Lady, and all the riches that addorn'd her. After the Vale pronounced by the praefica's every one returned almost dead with sor­row and griefe, for never was there seen such a generall lamentation and consent in mourning before. Whilst they were returning the Cupids and Nymphs singing Elegiaic verses before them, my sorrow bursting out a fresh in thinking to have Atalanta, I got away unseen and remained behinde: And getting into the vailt, I lay bewailing my destiny over Atalanta, till those that were set to close up the vault pluckt me thence by violence, for my desire was to be clos'd up with her. But when they had clos'd up that sepulchre and raiz'd a little Pyramis over it of Jasper, I caus'd to be engraven on the side of it these words in the Roman tongue, and burnisht with Gold.

AFter I had given thousands of kisses upon the cold Jasper, and with my teares renewed the fading cypresse branches which adorned her tombe I departed into the City, and chainging that long-kept habit, I indued those garments proper to my sex, and in a most sad and deplorable condition I ombarqu'd my selfe for Lixus. Assoon as I arrived there I met with a new and excessive accretion of sorrow. I found my father dead, not without suspi­tion of poyson, and my mother too weake to overcome her sad resentments of my brothers wickednesse, my other brothers death, my banishment, and lastly my fathers murther, she gave up the ghost that day I arrived at Lixus some few dayes after my father. This joyned to the remembrance of Atalanta had surely overcome me, but that I was obliged to performe the injunction of Atalanta, and to revenge the death of my father by e­mitting the blood of my brother, that wicked paricide, for without doubt he had compassed his death by poyson. Fearing his malice and wickednesse I kept my selfe unknown, and disguised saw their bodies sepulized, which was performed with great ceremony and funerary pomp by that hypocrite Marcipsius. The sight of that Traitor so irritated me that I was about to have sacrificed him on the tomb of my father, and to have immolated his blood to the Ghost of Atalanta, at the interment, but not desiring to make my selfe known before all those mourners with some other consi­derations, deterred me from putting so bloody a catastrophe to the Fune­rall. The next day I prepared my selfe to encounter him, and was resolv'd no longer to deferre his punishment: But I understood he had anticipated my design by departing from thence towards Tingis, where he was in Love with his Cousin the princesse of Bogudianae, and daughter of King Bogudus by whom he hoped to attaine the crown of Tingitania. I thought his love extreamly great, or his sorrow very small that de departed so suddenly after the interment however I resolved to follow him and perpetrate my design [Page 160] though in the armes of his beloved. With this resolution without discovering my selfe I left Lixus and at last arrived at Tingis. Some few dayes I a­waited an opportunity to meet with him, which at last was given me as happily as I could wish; for walking in a little grove hard by the pallace, it being al­most evening, I saw him come forth of a back dore of the pallace garden only with one squire. He descended into the grove and musing with him­selfe gave me liberty to come very near him before he espied me. when I was come up to him, my resentments stimulating me to a revenge, Traitor (said I laying my hand upon my sword) at this very instant thou must give satisfaction with thy blood and life for two murthers commit­ted by thee, that of thy father and that of thy wife. Marcipsius was start­led at this sudden encounter, steping back and being nothing daunted drew his sword. I am lougth (reply'd he) to take away your life for your teme­rity, but you ought before you encounter any with your tongue, to ob­serve them well with your eyes, and not let your rashnesse induce you into er­rors that would, with one lesse mercifull than my self, before this time have cost you your life. No, Monster (reply'd I) am not deceiv'd, 'tis you that are deceived in thinking so, I see you know me not, but know I know you to be the most perfidious and patricidicall Marcipsius, to be the ravish­er and vitiator of divine Atalanta, who suffered the stroke of death in bring­ing into the world the infant form'd of thy most lustfull seed: it is to her Ghost that the expiation of thy life in the first place must give satisfacti­on, and in the next place to thy empoysoned father who through thy ve­nefication (scelerous wretch!) hath ended his dayes: and this must be by the hand of Lonoxia who hath liv'd hitherto but to give satisfaction to their Umbrae by immolation of thy life. He was much amazed in seeing me, and seeing me ready to sacrifice his life with the sword of vengance, he saw there was no time to delay defending himself, for I assaulted him with a free violence. His fury and despair assembled in him an unwonted force, and had I not with the like agility evaded his first thrust he had stocadoed me, and given a period to my Life and fury, our duel lasted some time, till at length he fell, having a thrust through his right arme, and another through his body, so that I thought him dead, and leaving him I departed that night in a vessel for Spain. As we were passing the narrow frete that divides Spain from Affrica, we were set upon by a vessell of resolute pyrates, we were but few in number to them, and they thought it a folly to gain death by a resistance, but I that sought ardently for that megre champion, since I had obey'd the commands of Atalanta, resolved to loose it desperately amongst them, and at the last extinguishing of my taper, to give the greatest blase of my valour. Assoon as they had boarded us, I alone resisted them, and leap­ing amongst them, irritated them by the blowes I gave them, at first think­ing me mad with folly or rashnesse, they did not much regard me, but when that they saw how fast I fell'd them, they all began to dispute it with me with their swords, and to deprive me of the life I was resolved to loose, but with their deaths. In this encounter fell their captain with nine more that expired through their blood and wounds, at last everpowred I was born down, and expecting death, fortune, to spight me gave me, life. I looked for no generosity amongst those Barbarians, nor no pity from such irritated soules. But they made it appear that valour had some estimation amongst them, and that they were not altogether so Brutuall as I thought them. Ta­ken with the small puissance that I had shewed amongst them they preserved my life, and proffer'd me my liberty, notwithstanding the slaughter, I had made. And seeing their captain dead they all joyntly prayed me to ac­cept of their vassallage, and his place, and power. I many times deny'd them, and proffer'd to be their companion, but they told me that my va­lour [Page 161] which they so much respected deserved the preeminency and that they should account themselves happy under my protection, and that they would fear nothing under my conduct, but if I would accept of their proffers that they would swear a blind obedience to my commands, and would follow me to death it selfe. I pondered for some time on their words, and believing that to be the readiest way to find the death I sought, I yielded to them, and accepted of their offer. For my sake they spared the vessel they had assaulted, and carrying me to a strong fort on the side of Af­firica placed between two rocks sufficient to frustrate the efforts of a strong army, where when all their pyratick vessels were come in they proclamed me with a generall consent to be their captain; and with ceremonies peculiar amongst themselves crowned me with a Diadem made of cable ropes untwin'd in which was placed many precious stones, and swore their obedience to me, never to forsake me though in the greatest peril, never to disobey my com­mands, or thwart my designes, or to ransaek the prey but to stand to my di­vision of it amongst them. By this means they ever were in obedience a­mongst themselves, and in their common storehouse had treasure enough to defray the charges of an army of an hundred thousand men.

I led this pyratick life about two years in which time I receiv'd a thou­sand proofs of the Pirats valour and obedience, which was as perfect as the greatest monark could receive from his meanest subjects. In it I found a life (if I may say so for the consideration of the unlawfullnesse of it) that was pleasant and free from the versatilousnesse of Fortune, and I seemed now as if I tryumph'd over the power of that deity. There was no­thing the world could afford or the industry and power of men could gaine, so absolute a regency had I acquir'd over the hearts of those that serv'd me, that if I desired it they would sacrifice all their lives but they'd content me. All outward blisse attended me, and I wanted nothing of the pleasures and deliciousnesse of the greatest princes. But yet Atalanta was a spectre that alwayes appear'd before my eyes, and seem'd to desire my company in the Elisium. Indeed I sought death every where, where I hop'd I might finde it, I led them to most apparent dangers, which yet their valour still con­quered, and in the greatest atchivements came off victorious, and without murmuring at my actions, and with a desperatnesse of a man resolv'd for death I fought against all opposers, and incurr'd all dangers, which rashness they accounted the effects of an extream valour, and their love made them as resolute as my selfe: by which means, as fortune had rob'd me of my content and dispossessed me of my greatest riches, so now becoming her exe­cutioner I made others miserable by their losses who seemed to be her fa­vourities, and enriched the coffers of my praedonians with inaestimable treasure taken on the Seas. It was now that fortune gave me a very happy encoun­ter, and made me some amends for her former injuries, I was gliding over the Tuscane sea when I perceiv'd one of my vessels in fight with another, I bore up to her to afford her my helpe and to make sure of the prey but be­fore I came, I perceived that she was taken, and my men slain and priso­ners, a thing not usual it was, to see them overcome, which made me be­lieve I should find so stout a resistance that I should not seek any further for the death I wish'd for, I came up encouraging my men to revenge the death of their fellows, and falling abord on them I expected a sufficient number of them to resist me, but I wondered to see so many slain and ta­ken prisoners by the prodigious valour of one man. A shamed to assault him with so many, I commanded them to keep their ship, and to leave me the glory of that combate. They obeying me I entred the ship wherein Euripe­des had done such wonders (for it was he) and encountering him I found that I had need of the assistance of all my men to overcome him. I su­stained [Page 162] the sury of his arm at least an hower, but not without wounds, and undoubtedly I had fell under his strenuous arme, had not my men at that time breaking their wonted obedience through the great fear they had of my life rushed all into the ship to assaile him. I was extraordinarily moved at their basenesse and fearing their temerity I turned about and defended my enemy. What (said I opposing them with my sword) after all your loyalty will you now give me proofs of your disobedience, I had thought you had not been capable of such basenesse. I have hitherto opposed my self against a valour that is invincible, but now i'le defend my enemy rather then suffer this ignobility. These words stoped their motion and made them retire: turn­ing about to Euripdes, Sir (said I) you shall have no odds, lets finish what you have so bravely begun. Euripeles being truly generous, replyed, It is a folly to opose you, since you have two weapons which make you in­vincible, valour and generosity, it is enough that you have overcome me with the first, let me not be altogether conquered in the last. I proffer you my sword and service, and give you all the signals of victory. Alas! (said I) how unjustly you attribute this to me, which I ought to have given you: But we must finish our combate, 'tis not out of hopes that I shall prove the victor, 'tis a thing I desire not, but out of a desire I have to receive the death I have so long sought by the hand of one so valorous. You shall never find it under mine (reply'd the generous Euripedes) I will not commit so heynous a crime as to offend my defender, but if you'l ho­nour me with your friendship, I shall prize it above the victory; if not, yet give me leave to render you proofes of my servitude. With that he offered me the pummel of his sword: I was vext at his refusal to fight, and stepping back I bid him stand upon his guard, and thinking to irritate him with my blows, I renew'd the fight; he indeed defended himself, but would not strike to hurt me. What (said I very angry) you esteem me not worthy enough to exercise your valour upon: with this giving him a force­able blow, his guard being low, I cut his hand wrist, and as fortune would, a braslet which surrounded it. This put a period to my anger, for I no sooner saw it, but I knew it by a remarkable stone in the midst of it, to be the same that I had put about the neck of Atalanta's child. I took it up, and with an action that testified my amazedness I beheld it, and as­suring my self that it was the same, I was not slack to know of him how he had acquired it. He very courteously satisfying my demand, I must live now (cryed I out) since duty binds me to perform what I owe to Atalanta. O gods! what ought I to expect from that infant, since ye have preserv'd it so miraculously: I presently crav'd pardon for my insolencies, and it was as soon granted by generous Euripedes. I gave him a brief relation of Atalanta's misfortunes and my own, whereby he saw what interest I had in the child, and entring into a very near league of friendship, I con­ducted him and the fair Amenia into the Issick gulf. He gave me direction to find Marinus (which name he kept for the imposers sake) and with wonderfull expression of his amity, he left me to go and redeem the child, which by a miracle, fortune once more gave me.

I hasted back to my fortress, and from thence to the place where Euripe­des had left Marinus: I found him, redeem'd him, and brought him back to the fort, he was so well grown for those few years, that I should scarce have believ'd it to be the same child that the storm had rapt from me, had not the semblance of his mother, and these tokens which were yet preserv'd, that were lost with him, sufficiently testified it. It was a long time before I could get from the Pyrates, so loth were they to part with me, but at last I effected it through my continual importunities and desires, and land­ing at Lixus with Marinus, I discovered my self to my friends, and was [Page 163] welcom'd with as great kindness as the sence of former obligations, and a strict amiry could work in generous souls. I was forc'd to make my self known but to few; and those whom I knew, neither the power of gold, nor the sea of ruine, could have any power upon to induce to prodite me, for fear of the implacable h [...]e and revenge of my brother; who not dying of those wounds I gave him, had been recovered, and sent out divers to murther me if I could be [...]ound. In this manner I spent many years in a private life among my friends, having treasure enough to recompence their kindnesses, and to serve me (though I spent prodigally) all the rest of my my dayes, which the Pirates compell'd me to take with me. The remem­brance of Atalanta so often dejected me, that had not the care, education, and protection of her Image, put a necessity upon me of living, I believe I had not reacht these dayes. I made it my duty and delight to give him all the education both in literature and arms that others of his rank us'd to learn; which he receiv'd with a nature propense to the highest attainments, and prov'd so good a proficient in both, that he was equally lov'd and admir'd of his [...]utors.

Whilst I spent my years in bringing up this plant, my brother Marcipsius having taken upon him the crown of Tingitana, and gaining the confirmati­on if it from Augustus, by his presents and bribes to his chiefest favourites, promising an annuall tribute, and acknowledgment that 'twas from his do­nation, married his co [...]sen the princesse of Bogudiana, and enjoy'd that basly purchased crown some yeares in peace. Marinus now entring into his fifth lustre, I made known to him his parents which till then I had hid from him, and exhorting him to virtue and patience, and to the exercise of H [...]roick actions and generosity which would obliterate the blot of his mo­ther and his own extraction, I gave him all the Instruction and admonition of a father, and by my indulgency exacted from him a filial reverence and fear. At last I desiring he should be known to his father I would not per­mit him to lye any longer in such obscurity, and accompanying him my self to Tingis, no [...] imagining the fire of malice and hatred could have been preserved alive so many years in the King my brother, I presented him to him, and dis­covering my self and Marinus I made known to him how he was his son. But that wicked one having laid aside all sence of nature and humanity instead of forgetting my injuries and remembring I was his brother and that his son, caused us to be imprizon'd and that very closely for fear we should be known who we were, lest that the anger of his Queen for his crimes past, or the dis­content of his subjects for my imprisonment might cause some disturbance to his quiet

We endured this restraint with a vertue which we made out of necessity, near five years, when on a sudden and unexpected by us our prison dores were broke open, and we carried to the head of an armie of thirty thou­sand men to be their guides and conductors against Marcipsius. This was occasioned through the evill reign of my brother and the discontents of his subjects, and the great a version they allwayes had to him, so that many, and that of the cheif about him, conspireing together procured, this revolt, and raised this army with great secresy in his further provinces. They had not kept our imprisonment so close but that 'twas known to some of these, who knowing who I was design'd me presently for his successor, and for their Generall.

They made very large remonstrances to me of the equity of their doings, the wickednesse of their King, and the affection they had to have me suc­ceed. Ambition and injury both at once solicited me, but remembring that he was my brother and King I told them, As I would not approve of the follies and weaknesse of their King, so I could not tell how to take [Page 164] armes against a brother and a Prince whom I ought to obey, I told them that the Quallity of a brother prohibited me revenge, and that of a King swallow'd up all Injures. And that what before I had acted against him was not for injuries done to my self, but being bound by the obligations of love, greater then those of Nature I was forced to what I did, and haveing sufficiently compensated for that, I could not revenge injuries done to my self. And if they could not perswade themselves but that they ought to perpetrate their designes, that at least they would not make me the execu­tioner, but rather return me to the prison from whence they brought me if I must be necessitated to obey one. I had wholly frustrated their expec­tations if Marinus being more sensible of my injuries than of nature to a father so monstrous and obdurate, had not engag'd himself to them, and so perswaded me at least to bear him company in the field, and see whether he could performe the practick, of the Theory his tutors had taught him. Father, said he, if the Pellaan heroe (as my tutors have dictated to me) acknowledged himself more beholden and bounden to the Stagyraean Sage for his learning and precepts than to Philip his father for's life, who lov'd him, left him a kingdome, and means to raise him to that stupendious great­nesse he attained to; How much more ought I to acknowledg you, and to re­venge your injuries, that have given me life by saving it, that have edu­cated, cherisht, and spent your selfe upon me, on a father that begot me into misseries, that hates me, that imprizons me, that seeks my death and ruin? Let me give you this proof of my affection, and shew you how sensible I am of injuries done you, and that for my sake suffer me to make my fa­ther acknowledge me for his son by force, and when it lyes in our power to use mercy, I'le make him give satisfaction for injuries done to the best and cheifest of my fathers (and then we'l put on the duty of a son, and begg pardon for our selves. Not to use any more of those arguments he us'd to perswade me, the Love I bore him and the discretion I perceiv'd in those young yeares ty'd me to him inseparably and made me to accompany him in the warr, which lasted long and was very Tragicall. This war continued five years in which time we had many great battels, many slain, towns taken, Cities and places dismantelled, houses burnt, the country forraged, and all those sad disasters which inseparably follow a civill war. The three first years victory still attended us, and a sensible successe made us doubt of nothing that might crosse us. But Marcipsius having gain'd no­table experience in the warrs of Caesar kept himself so secure by the cer­tain intelligence he had of all our councells by his agents, so that there was nothing that we resolv'd on but he had notise of it before hand, and still frustrated our projects, and designes, whether it were in knowing our intended marches that he might way-lay us with ambuscadoes, or our inten­ded besiegments that he might sufficiently prepare it against us, or our sud­den assaults that he might prevent us, and having mony and men enough, he keept us from advancing very neer Tingis. The fifth year we came to a pitcht battell which prov'd fatall to us, all the whole strength of both sides engaged, and on the victory depended the decision of the Quarrell, and Crown. Both sides were very resolute and fought it out to the last man, at least thirty thousand fell on both sides, and the plain was like a sea of blood the contrary side prov'd victors, Marinus was slain cover'd over all with wounds, falling upon a rampart of dead bodies that he had slain. My self kill'd in Marinus and having lost all the blood in my body fell amongst the dead. But being preserv'd against my will by those that came to gain by the dead, and cur'd of my wounds I left Africa, With the like sorrow that I left Spain after the death of Ata­tanta. I retired amongst those Pirates that I once commanded, and the love [Page 165] they bare me not being extinguished in that intervallation of years that I had been absent, they receiv'd me with Joy and according to my desire let me live the remainder of my dayes in a solitary cave (but accommodated with things convenient) which was within the rock of the fortresse. After all­most twenty years solitude (time a little makeing me insensible of those things so long past) I began to be more conversant amongst them and enquir­ing after the passages of the world I understood by them (that were ignor­ant of few publique transactions) that Marcipsius enjoy'd his fortune very little after that fatall battell, for his neighbour, King Juba a prince indued with the learning of the Grecians, and the valour of Romans in his rising for­tune had swallowed him up and buried him under the ruins of his greatnesse, I used sometimes to take the sea in some of their vessells to recreate and relaxate my tyred spirits not to dispoyle any of their goods as I had former­ly done, and one time fortune at last to please me after these stormes ship­wrack'd our vessel upon the coasts of Asia, but it was to give me the greater calme; for, gaining the shore, I travell'd up into the country, (having some jewells and gold which I sav'd from the shipwrack) where I mett with Euripedes travelling with a few servants, but both of us being altered by our years, we knew not each other, till in discoursing as we went together I knew him to be Euripides, and making my self known to be Lonoxia, we renew'd our former amity with tears of Joy. Understanding the design he was going about, and agreeing so fit to my wishes and desires, I joyned my self with him and ever since have been his companion in this beloved grot. I have given you the relation of my life with which fortune hath as often play'd as any, and hath made it one of the greatest examples of her mutability. I cannot but wonder what kind of deity it is, that should take so much delight in the vicis­situdes of things, being a matter of impossibillity for her to permit any man to enjoy a content that is permanent, nor is she to be won by sacryfices, prayers or vows.

Lonoxia thus concluding; Argelois stai'd some time reflecting on the many remarkable passages of his story: But at last taking hold of the shutting up of his narration, spake something of that clausion. I have (said he) given good at­tention to your narration, wherein there are many things worthy of denota­tion, and wherein that Goddesse you speak of hath manifested her power. But (if you please) I'le tell you the opinion of a philosopher (whose dictates I well remember since I learn'd them in the Academian shades) concerning this Fortune, which thought it may be different from the Common opinion, seems not to deviate from reason, nor to be dissentaneous to truth. The common sort of people are constantly ignorant of the true notion of the Gods, and meaning of those figures which they see represented to their eyes [...] fram'd by the hands of men; and only follow the vulgar opinions, and common notions and dogma's, testifying their obedience to receive upon trust, what the priests or the wise men tell them, fitted to their Jgnorance, without any Inspection into mysteries. So it is then that the Romans, and other nations, worship those Images whether of Jove, Cyllenius, Ʋenus, Fortune, or any of the Gods as if they themselves appeared, or their di­vinities were comprehended within those materialls, when to confute that blindesse we often see them abused by sacrilegious persons without re­striction or punishment. The wise men themselves were the cause first of all of this infulse and false adoration; for they knowing how fraile the comprehensions of vulgar minds were, and that they were not able to con­ceive beyond the power or dictates of their senses; nor comprehend a deity that is the Invisible Gubernator of all things, fram'd certain Images, to re­present the power, and different effects of one sole powerfull Numen; that by those ocular demonstrations, sitted to the abject capacities of the vulgar, [Page 166] they might be put in minde of a supream, invisible, all-ruling power, lest other­wise they might fall into an Impiety to believe there was no such Power: or at least should be unmindfull of it without some thing formed to the sense to mind them of it, and help forward their devotion, seeing that things pre­sented to the eye immediately stirs up our rememberance, and causes a re­newing or commemoration of those things we had forgot. But of this their good intention there sprung up a great Impiety, for the vulgar placeing di­vinity in those carved and gilded Images, adored them for that uncontroul­able power, and imposing certain names, and offices on them, never look beyond those wooden objects. And since for their confirmation, through the covetousnesse, (and to the enriching) of their priests or conservers, some wick­ed men adding sorcery and charmes, caused certain illusive miracles to be done or shown by these Images. But this error is too inveterate to be con­tradicted, or spoken against; and so generally embraced, that very few of the wisest Philosophers have preserved this verity. But he that in­structed me in these things (wiser than the inspired Sybills who were in­stated by this power, and prophefied of some glorious star, which is about this time to appear, that shall dispel these clouds of error and impiety) hath them out of writings, that he accounts as sacred, as others the Delphick oracle, and delivered them to me as his choycest secreets, and greatest proof of his Love.

But to this Fortune you speak of, a power or Goddesse that is accounted so caprichious and unstable, the Romans according to their apprehensions of her by her effects, have depicted her and plac'd her in the Pantheon in the form of a woman, 'cause that sex is most mutable, faining her the daughter of the sea, to shew her inconstancy; and the servant of the Gods, because they accounted all sublunary things to be at her dispose, and to be effected by her. She was placed upon a globe, to shew she praesided over the earth. She had Cornucopiae in one hand, to shew she gave plenty; in the other a wheele, to shew the mutability of it, on which was the Image of Favour of a vitreous substance, apt to be broken and lost. She was also painted blinde, and drawn by 4 blind horses, they accounted her so by reason of the indifferency of her actions, in sparing neither the princes nor the plebeians as Justice is, and by reason of her confused and miscellaneous actions, which seem'd a Chaos in their eyes, and the productions of a blind deity. But this, (said my tutor) is but the Phantasies of those that cannot perceive the great Divinity who rules all things, and by his providence effects all this that they atribute falsly to Fortune, a blinde Goddesse indeed: Nor are we able to comprehend this power; for what we think disorderly and confused is most regular and agreeing, as we see in some Machine or clock whose wheeles move contrary wayes yet all in an exquiset harmony and order, so may the actions of this providence (which are not contingent to it self, because it knoweth and foreseeth what will come to passe, and all things come to passe that he foresees, though no necessity be impos'd on contin­gent things) seem to be confused and without order, but there is nothing effected without Harmony and Concinnity, and that happens which he judg­eth best, and most convenient for his creatures, though their irregular thoughts may Judg other ways, and exclame against a power (through a false noti­on) that doth nothing but what is good. For though some (being igno­rant of the incomprehensible wisdom) wonder at the contrarity of things which bring about like effects, and variety of things which bring ofttimes contrary effects according to the innate disposition or order of things, or men, as we may see that riches may make this man vicious, poverty may do the like by another. Prosperity and Fortune may make some careless of a good name, and conscience. Prosperity and Fortune may make others de­sire [Page 167] to keep (and exhibit the greater) virtue. So that, that incompre­hensible Gubernator that seems so instable to us, is most stable in respect of himself: And who seems blind unto us, sees perspicually, and orders all things according to the good of his Creatures, as best knowing, what is best for them; and best agreeing to their constitutions, for were there no adversity we could have no sence of pleasure in prosperity. Therefore raile no more against Fortune in adversity, for in so doing, you speak against a pro­vidence that knows what best befits you, and is most convenient for you; but learn to be content with whatsomever state or condition shall betide you, and think that to be most convenient for you. These were the words of my good Tutor (and the scholar of Cratippus) who lov'd me and enrich'd me with the fruits of his labours.

At this instant Euripedes entred the room, and so diverted Lonoxia's reply, The time is insensibly elapsed (said he) since you first entred into dis­course, I am come to do the same office for you Lonoxia, as you did for me yesterday in the grove. I could not satisfy the naturall appitite of the body in turning over my books, neither do I beleive your discourses to be more efficaci­ous. I have been hearing (reply'd Lonoxia) the opinion of an Athenian philosopher concerning our religion, which if true, makes the better part, and the most knowing, of the world, fools, and Idolaters. Argelois is as much against fortune as you against Love, both blind deities and incompet­able, but let's not innovate any thing here, for they are both banish'd our Cell. But let us go take some refection if you please for I doubt I have done Argelois great injury in detaining him so long, and you as great in robbing you of his company. Both returning his complement in very handsome termes they followed a servant that came to give them notice that dinner attended them. After they had taken that repast wherein temperance shew'd some­thing of state, Argelois of a sudden as't were coming out of a dream, and ris­ing up from the place where he sat. Your company Friends (said he) is made up of charmes, and I professe it hath wrought that mirracle that could not have been effected by all the world besids, you have made me insensible, of the trouble I have put my frinds in to find me, I know my absence will be insupportable to some, and their care I know hath put them to much trouble: But alas! this is not all, you have detain'd me from beholding those eyes that have enkindled so many flames in my heart, and made me forget, that I live not but by their gracious aspect. Give me leave generous fathers to pay what I owe to my friends and my self. I promise you to visit you oft, and some other time to satisfy you in what you may desire to know of me, and shall account my self happy if I may have an occasion to employ my life in your service. Euripides smiling at his passion, well wee'l detain you no longer (said he) I see you are not able to take warning by others harms, your passion is too strong to be converted, but I am so zelous that I must needs represent to you the evills of this passion, and give you some argu­ments for my aversion, but it shall be in the grove, where you may have the libery to leave me when you please. Well wee'le hear what you have to say (reply'd Argelois) and I make no question but Love will inspire his champion with words to defend him. Argelois taking his leave of Lo­noxia with abundance of obligatory speeches followed Euripedes out of the grote, and walking to the place where he first encountered Euripedes they sat down on a pleasant banke, under the covert of the thickest trees, come adversarie (said Argelios smiling) let's hear what you have to say against love. Euripedes after a very little pause began thus.

I might well declame against Love if it were for no other thing but for the evills I have acquired by it, so that I know it not altogether by oppinion, but experience tells me it is evill, and all the effects of it evill. And on [Page 168] my side are those whom we terme Philosophers and searchers out of wis­dome, who knowing both the causes and the effects, have found this pas­sion vitious and full of absurdities, and have given it most worthily the name of detestable and insipient, and those enviegled with it, fools and Mad-men. I know this is too corrosive in the presence of so strong a lover, but I know your generous soule will give me leave, without adulation to speak my minde freely, and take it as the effect of my love and affection that I desire the same good to you as to my selfe, and that I cannot see another occupy that which is become odious to my self. And though I know that it is almost impossible by naturall reason, and the exhibition of ne­ver so perspicuous truths to perswade any from his passion, especially when it hath fixed its roots in the breast, and spread it selfe in the branches of desires: yet I will exhibit to you the reasons I have to hate this passion, beeing an evill, and therefore worthy to be hated. But before I shew the evil of't, I must confesse that love placed in some generous soules who can command this passion, not to be evill, but then, as (I think) I told you yesterday, that it is not a passion, but some extention of the soul, which it can continue or withdraw at pleasure. But this that I speak of is evill of it selfe though it may be more or lesse perspicuable according to the generosity and basenesse, the purity or impurity, of such souls that it is placed in: to shew this to you, according to the weaknesse of my capa­city, I will begin first with the cause of this passion. I omit to speake of Love in generall, whether of naturall, and simpathizeing Love, or Love proceeding from similitude of qualities, or manners, or of morall love ge­nerall, or particular to men, or naturall to children, or parents, all whose causes are indifferent, and besides that passion on which I insist, and which cannot be without diversity of sex as the other may. But the cause of this (as generally the chiefe cause of all love) is an attractive power, which causeth an expansion, or emotion, of the soule and spirits to an ob­ject which she thinks convenient for her, and which must be a conception of need, or want of the object. Now privation it selfe is evill, and love being privation and want of an object; is therefore evill; for the effect of it beeing desire, seeks the possession of that object, and so makes the love circular, to attract that to the soule which she seemes to want; Now if we then wanted nothing we should not desire any thing, which shewes we are not compleat in our selves, and desire being the exhibition of want, and the effect of love, shews that the foundation it self is evill, for that it is grounded on want. Then besides if you look upon the outward cause of attraction, whether it be beauty, or any other exterior quality of the ob­ject beloved, and the possession of it desired, (which is alwayes suffulted with hope) the very causes themselves being vanity or not worthy objects for the soules egression to, or opperation upon, that desire, and that love cannot be good, the causes themselves being not absolutely good, but vain and transitory. But this by the way, the chief thing I proposed was to in­sist on the effects of this passion, which plainly exhibit the evils of it, and out of which as from the fountains head, all other evill passions have sprung. This also we may consider in relation to the body, and to the soule.

First consider this in relation to the body, and that must be relative­ly, and as it is joyned with other passions? whose motions cause the diver­sity of motions in the body. Through this the body, which is as it were the case of the soul, is imbued, through the conjunction of the soule with the body; with pain, with languishing, with restlesseness, and all the senss feel the effects of this passion upon the soul, by exposing the body to danger by wounds, by torments and oft times by death, all which happen through [Page 169] the exuscitation of other passions. Now the soule suffers innumerable evills for first all passions, as griefe, hatred, envie, wrath, malice, revenge, dis­dain and divers other particular passions which spring from this love, all which falling upon the body, agitate it to diversity of motions, and with­out rest causes the soule to a continuall solicitous care of obtaining, the ob­ject of its desires, which if once hope faile, then dispair the foretunner of mischiefe, carries the soule into wonderful precipitancies, and if in its best estate, that hope continues, it is never without fear, jealousie, and a so [...]icitrous care of conserving the object of its love; so that the soul is under a continuall agitation by those pa [...]sions that necessarily accompany love, and so cannot enjoy the rest it ought to have.

But now to leave this kind of Philosphicall discourse, let us speake of it morally, and let us consider the evill effects it hath produced in the world: and then we will define it thus. Love is a most fatall plague, a most venemous poyson, a most ardent and foolish desire, and the source and fountaine of all evill. Men when once they are entred into this passion, quite lose their former natures, for this passion contaminates their rea [...]on, tyranizeth over their wills, makes them subject to the e­gregious fancies of the object they seek to acquire, it deprives them of Jugdment, [...]ills them with all manner of passions, which caries them into a [...]l mann [...] of preciptation: their minds are continually tost to and fro on the wheel of love, being stimulated with that Oestrum, they are jacted, c [...]ted, agitated, versated by this passion, and fill'd with exanimation, distinction, direption, and accompanyed with cares, feares, jealousies, false, and faint comforts, disquiets, languishings, longings, rage and what not that is evill, and all but for the acquiring of a little vain pleasure, which vanisheth assoon as 'tis caught. And besides all these folly, lust, sinne, doings, turbulent motions, and precipitancies wait on lovers. And if we should go about to summe up the bad consequences and effects of this pa­ssion, with the evils it hath caused, we should find them innumerable; for what disturbances, what commotions, what hurly burlies, what di­stractions, what battalls, what slaughtars hath it caused? and what rapes what sinnes, what polutions, what sueds, and what murthers hath it committed? was it not the cause of the distruction of ancient Troy? was it not the cause of the banishing Kings out of Rome? Was it not the cause of the abolishing the Decemveri? hath it not been the cause of many murders? was it not the cause of the wicked and inhumane slaughter of Absyrtus the brother of Medea? was it not the losse of Megara when Nisus lost his fa­tal hair by his daughter Scylla. Alas! it would be endlesse to recount these things so well known, and generall hated, and yet this dispicable unprofi­table, and dangerous passion, cannot be shunned but embraced by those who acknowledge the evills of it, but yet wilfully maintaine its interests: They cannot take example by others, nor shun the precipicies they see others fall into before their eyes, but that they also must rush into them. Nei­ther can I see any good at all that this passion doth produce, but on the contrary those that are free from it enjoy all the quiets, felicity, ease pleasures, and freedome which the other are incapable of, and which is most miserable of all, of free men, and unconstrained, they become slaves, subjects, and bound to obey the motions of their owne passion; and will of an incon­siderate mistris, who it may be is, as dispicable in the unblinded eye of ano­ther, as she is lovely in his. Nor let it serve any to excuse it by saying they are forced and cannot decusse it, for it is impossible for all men, to ma­stre this passion, if they resolve to set their wills to doe it, but so long as they account it good and best for them, they are not able to overcome it, because they doe not seek it truly, but cherish and obey every motion that [Page 170] cometh from it. But if they were once convinced of the evill of this pa­ssion and were resolved to forsake it, I make no question of the possibility of their effecting it. There may be divers wayes proposed for the decussi­on or prevention of this evill, the chief of which as I suppose, is a con­stant imployment of the mind, either in study, or armes, whereby it may have no time to fall into that which (as they say) is accquired by a supine and idle life, fit to entertaine such a guest, and justly sent as a plague from the Gods to such a soule. Other wayes may be taken, as they lye convenient to the person; but chiefly the diverting of the mind from thoughts which feed the fancie, and inflame the soul, and a seperation from the object, with an intention of the mind on some other thing, is the way to acquire a freedome from that slavery. I have given you free­ly my oppinion of this passion I have so well experienced, though indeed I enveigh not against it for the detrement I have receiv'd by it; but for that it seems to me evill in it selfe, and worthy of greater condemnation. I know (generous Argelios) that your generosity will pardon this freedome of speech, against that in which you are so interested. Argelios seeing he had concluded, return'd him an answer thus.

I will not spake for this passion because I am immerged in it, thereby to justifie my self or oppose your gravity, but because I think it justifiable, therefore I will give you my poor conceptions of it. There is scarcely any thing here on the earth that is so pure, but that in it there may be found a commixion of drosse, nothing so good, but in't there is retained some bad, and nothing so convenient, but it may have its discommodities. We must not be therefore all spiders to extract the poyson and leave the virtue, by that means we shall make every thing odious and abhorrible. But we must as well denote the good as the evill, the benefit as the discomodity of this passion, and then you will see the ballance prepond on my side. The last night I gave you some touches, as I was able, on the enormities of this passion, which was the only thing that was evill in it. But that I may answer so mething to what you have spoken against it (since you are pleased to let my weakness exhibit it self) I will briefly touch upon what you have said in order, and (as far as my memory will accommodate me) shew that you have only considered the evils and exhorbitancies of this passion, against which all those wise men (you mention) of all ages have declamed, but the good it hath (and is able to) effect, you have omitted; it is against the irregu­larities that they have declared and not against the passion it selfe, which is neither good nor evill of it selfe, yet if it be as you say, it effects all evills generally, and is therefore to be condemned. But I will shew that it is as capable of effecting good as evill, and if I grant that evill is most com­it monly effected by, yet that is the fault of men, not of the thing. But to an­swer what you have said, I will presuppose that your goodnesse will not be offended at what I shall deliver, and that you will think it, if I erre, to be the weaknesse of my judgement and not the desire of my will; and since truth is to be found out by opposition and discussion I hope it will be no pec­cation to oppose my conceptions to yours. First I must deny what you say, that this passion is evill of it selfe, which is the chiefe and main point.

For if we conclude so, then we must grant that all the passions of the soul are evill of themselves, for they were all implanted in man at the same time, and they are simply of one nature, though different in effect; which thing cannot be consentanious with the purity, and justice of the Gods, who created every thing good, for what is evill we acquire it of our selves or have it infused by evill genij, so that passions naturally are not evill but are made so by the use, (or rather the abuse) of them. Now if you grant as [Page 171] you cannot deny that the Gods created man good and pure, what you have said to prove the evilenesse of this passion is to no effect. For though this passion be conjoyned with desire; which I grant is a token of need or want, yet that want is not evill of it selfe; for the Gods so created man, and made him not alone, and of himselfe able to subsist; but indigent of some things. For if man wanted nothing he were God, for not to want is to be a creator, therefore that privation you speake of is not evill, for to desire (which you call the badge of the wan [...]) is as natural as to eat and drink and if to want be evill, then man is wholly evil, for he is made up of indigen­cies and desires.

In the next place you say that the objects of our love, and desire, are not absolutely good, so that the causes or foundations being evil or rotten, the effects or building cannot be good or found. I say as all outward objects (or any thing besides the Love and beutitude of the Gods themselves) are not absolutely good, so are they not absolutely evill, but relie on our use or abuse of them. For beauty is not evill of it selfe, nor any outward accomplishment, neither is it evill for us to desire it, but the excesse or exorbitancy of desire may make it evill, for if we do desire that which we cannot have without detriment to another, or wrong to our selves, or too much exceed in our desires, then it is evill. But when we bound them regularly they are not evill but may be used, but further, desire of it selfe is good, for the only scope of it tends to the seeking of good (as a­version the eschewing of evill) but now if our desires are illuded by our judgements, or are guided by our sense, and not truly placed by our un­derstandings and will, then they are exorbitant and become evill, and we oftentimes desire evills, not as evils, but (being illuded in our judgements) as good, for so they are represented to our understandings and embraced by the will. But now to the effects both upon body and soule I believe that I may parallel as much good that they receive by this passion to your evill. For as Love and hatred are the Springs from whence all passions slow, and receive a mixture of, so these evils which you recount stow not soly from them, but also those passions or emotions of the soule which we call good, such then is joy, estimation, generosity, humility, magnanimity, hope, courage, boldnesse, pity, compassion, good-will, gratitude, lightheart­ednesse and the like, all which serve as much to the comfort of soule and body, and those you mention to the discomfort. But now to follow you into your morality where you consider the evill effects proceeding from the exorbitancy, so I will only ballance and exhibit the good that follows the regularity. And first I will give it a contrary definition thus, regular Love is a plant sprung from the Gods, which sharpens virtue, quickens forti­tude, produceth boldnesse, makes smooth the rough, makes accute the un­derstanding, and opens a passage for all virtues. Love in its regularity causes men indeed to forsake their former rough hewen natures, and to become humane, it is as pollishment to (or as a foil to set off the luster of) stones: to such it makes them become plyant, gentle, meek, humble, indues such as enter its school with loquacity, elegant speech, quickens their obtuse understandings, makes the ignorant to become wonderfull learned by infu­sion, fills the mouth of the rustick with complements, causes rare and ex­quisit inventions, helps to wisdome, makes the soldier magnanimous, the coward valiant, the timorous fearlesse, furthereth great archivements, it also excites bounty, liberality, patience and fortitude: and what indeed cannot the force, virtue, and power of love doe? for it oft times so transports nature that it makes her capable of effecting things that seem impossible, and puts such vigor that it will adventure on any difficulties. It despiseth all dangers, nay seeks to acquire them out of a hight of generosity [Page 172] to free the object beloved. It overcomes death not with a foolish precipi­tancie, but out of a setled resolution, and joy, for the object it delighteth in. And though in the way to the end, there be many vexations and trou­bles yet the enjoyment is thereby made more sweet, and strengthned the more by it, and recompences all troubles with it's deliciousnesse. Now to what you alledge concerning the effects of it in the world, how wicked and abo­minable they have been I will grant you that it hath effected more evill than good, but this ariseth from the evill and poysenous nature of men, and must not be laid upon the passion, and though I grant what you inferre concerning its exorbitancy, you erre much to think this passion effects nothing good, and though I cannot cite so many and notorious examples as you may for the other, yet I know there are those worthy of notation and reco [...]dation.

And againe as it hath been the occasion of much strife, so it hath been the cause of much concord, amity, peace and quietude. And is it not the greatest ligament in the world to concord, when it joynes either sex in the bands of Hymen? unites Kings, states, Lords, and private men who are e­nemies and opposers of each other, and causes them to become friends and in amity? Is it not the chiefe effectriss of life, when it attains the object of its desire? We should never be regular in our lusts if we were not in the bonds of Love, for that hinders the fancy from flying to diversity, and causes an immoration on an object which it counts worthy of its emotions; so that it is the conserver, and not the destroyer of government and good order.

But to conclude I say the only thing to reconcile us is to put that just difference between the passion simply, from whence all the good proceedes and the exorbitancy of it, whence all the evill proceeds. For in a pure soul it is like water in a Christall glass, but in a polluted contaminated soul it is like clear water put into a polluted vessel, whereby it becomes naught and good for nothing. And though I have said it is a thing impossible to love without desire of attaining, and enjoying, yet in some it is made not the pro­posed end, and doth not altogether partake of that brutality of lust but is of a purer nature, not desireing the use of the object, but to become one with it, to be incorporated with it, and not to take any thing from it, but to im­merge it self in it, and very like the true love of friendship, wherein is ex­ercised all virtue, and where love is of a more celestiall nature, though that be not without desire, of the good and of the welfare and continual presence of the object; and this love to a different sex may participate much of that of friendship, though it rarely is so perfect because we desire something to our selves. But lastly to the close of your discourse I am not clearly of that o­pinion which you inferre that this passion may be shun'd or discussed by labour and industry, by all. I grant that we may become masters of it, and regulate it to our wills, and that time may slaken it or take it clean away in some, the mind exerciseing its functions, and in difuseing our love, on more generall objects; whereby it may be recalled from intention by expansion and I believe that it may be long prevented by meanes, but that it may be decussed at pleasure or that we may so prepare our selves as not to be agita­ted by it, I cannot grant. For it is so suddenly caused that we have not time to fore-arme our selves, for sometimes an exquisite beauty, or other ob­ject wherein we are surpriz'd with admiration, which causes desire, which accompanied with hope, gaines a possession suddenly, sometimes it insen­sibly slides into the heart, when through long conversation with an object natures sympathizing through a similitude of qualities, it is fixed in the breast, which innate Love growing to maturity, and furthered by desire is hard to shake off, and almost impossible. And as you proposed means for the shak­ing off, of this passion, so I say those that are imbued with it, though they may [Page 173] not have the power to decusse it, yet they may have this power (which the Gods in justice leaves them) not so absolutely to give over their wills to ano­ther, as to be ruled by their own passion; for we may do the same thing in er­ror and in judgment, and it shall be evil in the one, and not in the other, though it be not evill in the act but in the manner, for if we commit any in­different thing by the guidance of our passion only, without the examination of the understanding, and ordination of the will, it is evil: But when we do the same thing out of a clear Judgment that it ought to be so, and will it to be so, then we do it not out of passion but out of Judgment, so that the passion quickens the understanding when it gives it leave to work, and leads to precipitancy through obcaecation when it is guided by its own temerity. Therefore they must look to all exorbitant motions whatsomever, & to the regulation of their desires, and to the freedom of their will, though they have passion for their mistresses, and then their virtues will be exercised, their graces will be exhibited, and their end will be glory. Argelois thus ended and Euripides smiling; I did not beleive (said he) you had been so strong in arguments for your passion, I thought you could better have deffended it with your sword then by reason, but I see there is nothing wanting to your compleatment. I will no more differ with you, and if it be possible I'le make my self believe you; however I will injure you no longer by keeping you from a happinesse you so much esteem, but let me desire you to make my grote happy by your visits so long as you reside so near me, for other obligations I remit my self into the armes of your generosity. Argelois replyed with his wonted grace and sweetnesse, and promising him to visit him as often as his passion and opportunity would give leave, they parted, Euripides returning to his grot, and Argelois returning from whence he came.

THE HISTORIE of DARDANUS.

MY years not exceeding those of the Prince, declare that what I speak from his infancy, were the dictates of those who were both this masters and his servants. Palemon after that notable overthrow of Mark Antonie living in great fear of the Romans for the affection he had shewn that Prince, retired amongst the Getes and pitching in Tomos lived amongst a people civilized by the swan-like notes of the Sulmonian bard. Marying with Agauue the nece of Tarcondemus King of Celisia, they produced Dardanus the fruit of that conjunction into the world. About that time by a strange misfortune, Palemedon, son to Palemon by his other wife was lost, being ravished out of the arms of his nurse by some wicked Assassius. [Euripides could not but but shew his interest in that speech by a sigh that he emitted, but it not being noted Epi­dauro continued thus] But sure the Gods fore-seeing the virtues of the prince my master, shewed by this action that he deserved to be something more than second to the Crown. There was great lamentation for the loss of that young Prince, and the King had not been to be comforted but by the sight of Dardanus, who now received the whole influence of the Kings love, which else must have been shared between them.

After that the Romans had reduced Capadocia, Comagena and other king­doms into provinces, and that the King saw they did not disturb him, they removed to Chalcedon, where he made his peace with the Romans: And for some tribute which he was forced to pay them, they assigned him Byzantium for his court, and gave him good part of Thrace, and in Asia all that along the Pontic sea. In the mean time the young Prince Dardanus, have­ing tutors that were most excellent, grew so expert in all the sciences, that he shewed that the barbarity of the place where he was born, had contribu­ted nothing to his nature, and made all expect the incomparable fruit of so fair blossomes. He not only excelled in litte [...]ature, but also in armes, in which in a very little time, he seemed to be rather a mas­ter than a tyro, and soon exhausted all the knowledg of his preceptors. In a word Nature had with a lavish hand bestowed those favours which might [Page 207] make him excell all men. He was but young in years when the King per­ceiving that his tutors was not sufficient for his large cappacity, sent him to Athens, where in that nurse of the muses, his pregnant wit ran through and peirc'd into the profundity of Philosophy. I had then the honour to accom­pany him and to be his servant. In that place it was that he fell acquainted with the amiable, and no lesse generous Argelois. The parity of their yeares, their consimilitude of their featurs, the profundety of their wits, and the correspondency of thier affections, composed an amity indissolvable but by the power of Eternall Night. They were seldome a part, and for all the sub­mission of Argelois knowing Dardanus to be a Prince yet he would give him no other appellation than Brother, and commanded him to do the like. They were the mirror of Athens both for frindship and all things else, at prizes they strove to make each other conquerer, and to con [...]er the ho­nour from themselves upon each other, glorying more in one anothers victory than for their own. There was no prize that could be got from them, nor no [...]rell crown but it addorned one of their heads, whether it were for learning or Martiall sports. This continued untill Argelois was sent for home by his too indulgent father, this mesage raized a war betwixt love and obedience in Argelois, but the last lecture he had read being so full of paraenetick in­structions concerning obedience to parents, he was forced to leave his friend Dardanus, by the strong impressions thereof. This separation was not without teares, and reciprocall ingagement on either side, to overcome time and absence, by their constant and intire affection. They vow'd that friendship which was to last eternally, and which was not to be defaced by any accidents of Forune or Time. He had not long lest the Tritonian towers but that my master found the miss of that incomperable man; in his eyes, the Muses had accompained his friend, and left their ancient seat. The graces were no where to be sound, and the City seemed dissolate and melancholy since the absence of Argelois. Epidauro (said he to me) I can no more find that delight a suavity in these dull lucubrations since the absence of Argelois, as formerly. These schooles are too melancholy and sedentary. I do not in­tend to be a docter or sophus, I am well enough skilled in this speculative knowledge, armes ought to be my profession, and though literature and the sword have an equall share in the regiment of a Kingdom, yet there is no pollicy like to that of experience. Nothing like to example; precepts are nothing so vively represented, nor so soone caught, nor so long retained. A great pollitition in the school most times proves a meer fool in the Court. As if that variety of changes, and actions of men were to be tyed to the rules of the school. No Epidauro, I shall learn more experience, and gain more knowledg in being on yeer at Rome, than I shall in spending ten here. But if it were for no other reason but to divertize me from the trouble I receive by the absence of Argelois, I am resolved to put it in execution I will to Rome and vew that City that imposes Lawes to the whole world. I had allwayes a great fancy to travell, so that he jumped with my de­sires, yet knowing him to be a Prince on whose life the happinesse of a kingdom depended, and my master, I did my duty in perswading him to the contrary, and in declaring the dangers, perils & accidents that always attended travell. I represented to him his minority, his parents trouble, the Kingdomes sadnesse, with every thing that duty, and the exiguty of my intellectualls were a­ble to dictate. But he that was non of those that could be turn'd every way by the wind of perswasion, stuck to his first resolutions, and commanding me as a master, I obayed him as a servant. After I had according to his command prepared every thing ready for his voyage to Rome, we left Attica and with a very prosperous wind a rived at that Citty which extended her authority from the orient to the Hesperian wave. That Citty had not recovered those sadnesses and habits of mourning she had assumed for the death of Drusus, when [Page 208] we came so that its luster seemed obnubilated with a sable vaile, and i [...]s glory a little yeilding to the occasion of the time. But yet it had so much beauty in it, as to inchant the minde of Dardanus, and to make him resolve for to stay some few years. The Prince hiding his condition took a lodging amongst the Knights of Rome: And though it were not altogether correspondent to the Quallity of a Prince, yet it might answer to that of a noble man. He soon grew acqainted, and with that winning carriage, and attracting speech proper to himself, he bound many slaves to his courtisie, and civillity, and overcoming envy it self, made those who were enimies to virtue, to acknow­ledg him scarscly to be parrallel'd. Three whole years remained we in that City, in which time 'tis incredible to declare the pollicies, the experiences, and the observations he had gained. His greatest divertizment was in the Martian field in which he gained the praise and acclamations of the whole City. Amongst the rest of his numerous acquaintance was that mon­ster of men the wicked Caligula son to the good Germanicus, and whom now for a fatall plague to themselves Rome hath chosen Emperor. My master soon saw the evil of his condition, and though he keept them from pub­lique noteing, it may be hoping for the Empire, yet those that used his company saw his vices perspicuous enough, and his frequent, and intoller­able debauches odious. I verily believe now he hath attaind that dignity in which he may commit them without fear of taxing, he will not stick to exhibit in publique what before he Committed in private. The good nature of my master was not able to work upon that monster, who like the spider extracted poyson out of the fairest flowers. He would have been lesse ingaged to him, but that the innumerable favours which he re­ceiv'd from him caused him to answer his civillities, with his company and to indure those insulsities which he saw him dayly commit. That monster Caligula seemed every day more affectionate than other to my master and as if he had been courting his mistresse he would with new coyn'd words seek to ex­hibit the affection he bore him. My master being but a child in impieties could not imagin that turpitude that was lodg'd in the putrified breast of Caligula.

After a while he brought him acquainted with Sejanus that great favourit of Tiberius, and his great instructor to all cruelties and impieties. This was he that was to usher in the beastly and abominable desires of Caligula, who had made him his counceller, and deputy to effect his wickdnesse. Dardanus after that Seajnus had one day with the best of his Rhetorick and with many words exhibited the extream love and affection Caligula bore him, and that it rested in him to make Caligula happy by a continuall and more near con­vers, promised very innocently that there was nothing that Caligula could desire from him, but he should be both ready and willing to pleasure him, and that he should count it no small happinesse to enjoy his company often. My master here served Sejanus with some of his own Cities compliments, speak­ing what his heart denyed, for I am sure of all men living he cared least for those two Sejanus and Caligula. But Sejanus had enough, and I believe judged my masters words by his own beastly thoughts. Assoon [...]s he was gon, the Prince call'd me to him. I cannot but wonder Ep [...]dauro (said he) at Caligula, he knowes well enough that my resentments of his debauches are nothing corresponding with his, he sees that I am not inclin­ed that way, and yet, if he speaks true, he loves me more than all the world. What do you think Sejanus came for? it was but to tell me with the best of his language the great love and affection of Caligula. For my part I would soon ride my self of their convers, but that, it may be, the Gods hath design'd me for their instruments to reclame them from their vices, and for that end haith stirred up this affection in Caligula; which I cannot be­lieve to proceed from his own wicked nature. See how innocently he inter­preted the affection of that beast: but I having heard of the common crimes [Page 209] and abominable actions not sitting to be named done upon men by the beastly buggerers of that City, I suspected Caligula's affection, and desirous that the prince might beware of him, Sir (said I) your thoughts are too pure and inno [...]ent to imagin the turpitude and abominable vices of this age, inormity is the greatest desire of Great men, for not being content with that gender which Nature hath given, for the venting of their Lusts, they harbour desires so odious that they are not to be named. In the fairest grasse lurkes the greatest serpent, and under the most specious words the greatest deceit. I have good reason to suspect Caligula, for his evill nature and frequent de­bauches declares he cannot love the virtuous. This which he beares you is nothing but a lust that would lead him to actions unfit to be spoken, and for which end he hath made Sejanus his pandar. Dardanus was amazed at these words, being not able to speak a great while. At last, But do'st thinke it Epidauro? (said he extreamly irritated) Oh heavens can man be guilty of such crimes! I'le make Caligula sensible he hath no effeminate in hand, and Sejanus repent that ever he serv'd him in this action. Sir (said I) I beseech you do not praecipitate your sel [...] into actions that may acquire the anger of Tiberius, and so endanger your life, upon my thoughts and imaginations, at least have clearer knowledge from their own words or actions before you make such considerable men your enemies, and run your self into inevitable ruin, by a temerity that can do you as little good, as you can do them hurt. I had but just lay'd the Princes passion when Caligula came in: my Master gave him a reception without exhibiting any disturbance, or shew of anger. Me­thought I saw at his first coming in, I know not what flagrancies in his eyes, which I believe was but the exhibition of that abomiable lust which boyled in his veines. He expressed his wonted civilities, and sought to expresse the ar­dency of his affection, by the stricktnesse of his embraces. My master en­tertain'd him, with many ordinary discourses, which he seemed to endure with wounderfull impatience, and often turning his eyes like comets on Dardanus thought to make him understand his desire, by that ocular de­monstration. At last the prince as 'twere complying with his desires, which he did to see the utmost of his inrentions, led him into a chamber, which was his or [...]inary place of repose, and seating himself upon the side of the bed gave liberty to Caligula to exhibit what he was. It was a long time before the strength and sury of his Lust could overcome that awe which the gravity and Majesty of young Dardanus had struck him with, 'twas that suspended his embraces, till night began to vaile that Majesty, and seem'd to lend its dark­nesse, to shoddow a crime unworthy the least of any light. The darknesse begining to hide those fair eyes of the Prince, which stroak an awe, into the soul of Caligula, and which with their lightning carried such a virtue that o're power'd the vicious thoughts and instigations of that wretch, he began to cast his lascivious armes about his neck, and pressing his cheeks with his lips. Ah dear Dardanus (said he) how surpassing is thy beauty all the Romane dames!Thou hast rob'd them of all their glory, and the beauty of the fairest could never gain that power over my soul as thine has done, with that he pressed the Prince backward upon the bed, and began to use uncivill actions, which were the preparitories to his crimes. Dardanus throughly heated with a generous disdaine, forc'd himself up, and thrusting Caligu'a backward overturned him in the flore. Base Paedicator, (said he) was this the scope of your faind love and affection? Did you thinke me some Sp [...]do that could indure the embraces of a monster fraught with impieties, and the most horrid of crimes? This moment ought to give termination to that impious life of thine, but I spare it for the sake of Germanicus, who never did act worthy repentance or crimination but in giving life to thee. Caligula was so amaz'd at this repulse, that 'twas a long time er'e he could recollect [Page 210] himselfe to speake. Dardanus (said he at last) I should take this at no mans hands living besides yours, 'Tis I that am abused, for you gave leave for that perpetration which otherwise I should not have dar'd to have ven­tured on. When? replyed the Prince. By Sejanus (said he) this day. He hath both deceived and abused you: (replyed Dardanus) For such horrid impieties never entred into my breast, but I shall rew [...]rd his lenocinium and make the hilts of my sword kisse that breast so full of impieties. The Prince calling me commanded that Caligula might be lighted forth with a ta­por, and turning from him went into another room: he stood a great while with his eyes dejected, at last seeing the Prince not there, he followed me muttering I know not what revenge. Tell your master (said he to me at part­ing) that he will repent what he hath done; he should have considered my quallity and power when he affronted me. Dardanus little regarded his threats when I told him, but smiling, I did not (said he) believe such vicious desires could have been harbourd in the breast of man, as I now see by this paedo. This City (reply'd I) as it hath in it the most eminent virtues, so likewise hath it the greatest vices, they are both intermixed, and neither are wanting in this populous place. The next day Dardanus met Sejan­us in the street, and not being able to moderate his anger, told him very roughly, that the day before he had relinquish'd his office of captain to play the Pandar or worse and for reparation he desired to accompany him into the feild where the should see he was neither woman nor child. Sejanus being of a temper extreamly cholorick, gave command to some of his souldiers that followed him (he being captain of the Pretorian Cohorts) to cut my master in peices. They who were not to dispute the legality of his command, shewed they were true souldiers by their blind obedience, about ten of them evaginated their swords, whose glittering had been enough to have sent a mean spirited man to the lower shads. The Prince as young as he was, nothing terrified at their number, or power, drew his weapon, and with the first thrust had almost sunk Sejanus with giving him a sight of the effusion of his own blood. Go base stuprator (said he) the life of Drusus and the whordome thou hast committed with his wife, should in justice have long since finished thy dayes. The souldiers in the mean time had let fall their weapons on Dardanus and had made way for the effusion of that blood which was too royal to be so basely spilt. I gave him my weak asist­ance & the love I bore him made me more valiant than ordinary. But the won­ders that the Prince did are incredible; he fought not like a man despaireing of his life, or desirous to dye in a kind of furious precipitancy, but like one of Judg­ment and wisdom, so guarding himself, and so offending them that he laid eight of them at his feet, to accompany the other two which fortunatly I had slaine. These were Romans and of the stoutest of the Romans, and therefore you will look upon it more then the routing of an hundred Asians. But this ex­tream valour could not have long deterred my masters death, for twenty more of those souldiers drawing their swords had devided us into as many peices if at that instant Caligula had not come to our assistance, who seeing so great hurly burly in the middest of the City, pressed through the croud, be­ing desired by all the people to save the life of a youth whom Sejanus sought to murther. He arrived just at the instant of this fresh assault, and beholding Dardanus in that danger, went below his greatnesse to implore Sejanus for our lives. Sejanus believing one day he might prove as good a master as Tiberius, did not dare to displease him, and though his anger were impla­cable yet he seemed to comply, and commanded his souldiers to restrain their hands. My master was more vext that he was succored by Caligula than at the death he should have received. Sir (said he softly to Caligula) why do you not perfect your threatnings, now you haveso fair an opportunity? for do not think that this obligation shall make me think you lesse monstrous, [Page 211] and impious than before. Caligula replying nothing, caus'd us to be con­veigh'd to our lodgings, where he saw our wounds dress'd, my masters were many but not very deep nor mortal, mine were fewer & less dangerous he being the chief [...]utt of their endevours. Caligula left us not til 'twas very late in which time he bestow'dmany foolish & impertinent speeches on the beauty of my master and told him that his eyes had given him more wounds than he had received from the hands of Sejanus's souldiers. My master told him that those words did him mo [...]e hurt than all the wounds he should receive in all his life. About the middle of the night the smart of my wounds keeping me awake, I heard a murmer of voyces, and whispering in the street, with the noise some made in forceing the gates of the house. I got presently to the win­dow and putting my head through the grates I espied Sejanus by the light of the torches, and about thirty souldiers with him, endeavouring to force the gates with iron barrs. Affrighted at the mans wickednesse I ran to the prin­ce's bed-side and suddenly awaking him, told him that he had but few moments to live if he did not save his life immediately, after I had told him what I had seen. Come (said he) let's die willingly, however I will not be slain in my bed; it may be this wounded arme may yet give that impious Sejanus a just reward, and I may have the content to see him expire with me. He presently left his bed, and made himself ready with more agility than I could have imagined. Taking his sword come Epidauro (said he) let us not await their comming to us, let us meet them half way, and show that our courage is not exhausted with our blood. I seeing his resolution flung my self at his feet, and told him with teares that he ought not so rashly to precipitate himself, but to save that life which was not to be at his own dis­pose, since so many had interest in it, and whilst there was a way open for our safety. What said he must I fly then? have I been thus long in learning to fight? and must I learn now to fly? I reply'd that to precipitate him­self into such an unequall fight was not a sign of valour but of dispair, which was the badge of a coward, and could never enter into an heroic breast. And though he had learned to fight yet he never learned to cope with such a mul­titude, and that it was no sige of cowardize, or would be any stain to his honour to save his life by a retreat from an inevitable death, when no extre­mity pressed him to it. And that in his slight he would shew his wisdome, but in his stay folly and madnesse, well then (said he at last) I'le save thy life since thou art so unwilling to lose it.

By that time he had said thus they were got to the chamber dore which I had fastned with two great iron bolts, which secured us whilst we gained a back dore at the end of a gallery into which our chamber dore opened. Fa­stning that dore after us we descended a part of winding stares which brought us into the garden, out of which we got into the street, and so escaped to a friends house of my masters. He told us that there would be no safety for us in the City so long as Sejanus was our enemy. My master being willing to leave Caligula procured horses of his friend and departed before it was light. He was out of the City before he had resolv'd whither to go, at last being througly irritated at this unworthy doings of Sejanus, he told me he was re­solved to go to the Emperour Tiberius and complain of his debauches. I sought with all the arguments I had to cause him break that resolution, knowing that the Emperour had put to death some of the chiefest men in Rome for speaking against his favourites, so that the danger he incurred was no lesse then that we escaped. But not being able to alter his resolu­tions we road directly to Neapolis where the Emperour was. When we were there we understood he was in the Isle Capra. Our journey, although I had been carefull to dresse my masters wounds, had so disturb'd them that they bled afresh, and put him into great danger, neverthelesse he would be conducted [Page 212] to the Isl [...] which was not far, being come thither and admitted into the presence of the Emperour, he put one knee to the ground, and bowing with a very handsome grace. Sir (said he with a tone that ravished the eares of his auditors) I come now from Rome bloody as you see, and full of wounds, having received them from the hands of Sejanus though un­justly and most cruelly, he making those Pretorian bands which are for the safeguard of the City, to become the distruction of the common-wealth. I doubt not but your Majesty knows what belongs to the rules of regiment, and I know you are too good a Prince to suffer your subjects to groan under the tyranny of a man who is grown insupportable, and whose frequent debau­ches and cruelties have almost subverted the order and rules of that City, which heretofore hath been the harbour for the distressed, but now is become as the most dangerous rock in the Ocean: strangers shun the place, the Citi­zens are weary of it, and all cry out of the insolences of that man, who, whilst you are here for your repose, playes the Emperour, doth what he list, commands all, and abuses the authority you have put into his hands. The reason Sir, why you have not heard of this before now, was for fear of the danger they might incurre by your severity who should adventure to speake against one so highly favoured by your Majesty: but I having lesse fear of death than desire of doing good to the common-wealth, bringing these wounds to testifie the verity of my speech, have adventured upon the clemen­cy of your Majesty to let you know the insolency of him who dominering over Rome debaseth your glory and authority; and maketh that sacred name be spoken evill of, which otherwise would be had in reverence and estimation.

Tiberius stood still a great while after the Prince had spoken, being amaz­ed at the port and animosity of a youth, at last resenting what my master had spoken. Sejanus shall not long abuse us thus (said he) Those that were about him, who were all enemies to Sejanus, and to his greatnesse, seeing so fair an occasion, confirmed my masters speech, and so irritated the em­perour that he told them he would do them justice.

We returned to Neapolis where we stayed some weeks for the sanation of our wounds, the next news we heard was the death of Sejanus by the Emperours order: Goodnesse can never rejoyce at anothers fall, Dardanus no sooner heard of his death but he bewailed him, as if he had lost a friend, and repented him that ever he had instigated the Empe [...]our against him: I had no thoughts (said he) that the Emperour would have taken away his life my end was that he might be but humbled by the loss of his authority. But I see both the favours and displeasures of Princes can keep no mean, they are alwayes in extreames and fatall. Our wounds being cured Dardanus went to see the chiefest places in the City, and walking by the temple of Ma­vors accidentally met with Caligula; He was not so glad but my master was as sorry at that accident. Caligula embraceing him, you need not fear Sejanus now (said he) he hath expiated the fault he hath committed against you with his life, you may return now to Rome and be se­cure. I did not think said he to find you here, I came about some businesse to the Emperour but I see now 'twas my good genius that hath been my conductor, since I have met with a happinesse I did not expect. Darda­nus would presently have taken his leave of him, having a perfect antipathy against him, but Caligula would needs accompany him to his lodging. Af­ter that beast was departed, I fear said Dardanus lest this base paederastes should make use of his authority here so neer Tiberius and endeavour to force me to consent to his abominable vice, I am resolved Epidauro to leave this place tomorrow and to return either to Atheans or Byzantium, for I cannot endure the thought much lesse the sight of this Caligula. I en­couraged him for this departure knowing that the King his father was in no [Page 213] small trouble for his departure from A [...]hens. But before night we were taken prisoners by order from Caligula, ten of them lost their lives in the attempt, but being overpowred, we wete deprived of our weapons, and our hands bound, and put into a liter, we were carried privately to a very fair house and put into a roome well furnished, but as strong as any prison. Being at liberty we had time to consider the wickednesse of Caligula, and by what meanes we might escape this imprisonment. Whilst we were in these considerations he came to us and told my master that which he had done was only out of fear least he should have left his company, on which his life depende [...], & that he should fear no other injury than that of his restraint. The Prince not permitting him to go on: do what you can monster (said he interupting him) but it shall be neither prison nor torment that shall make me yield to your monstrous brutuallity. The Prince was too, angry to be contested with, and Caligula was faine to depart without more words. He visited us constantly twice a day for a week, but seeing there was no perswading Dardanus to hear him so much as mention his wicked desires he departed in a rage and told him that he was resolved he should never escape from that prison till he had consented to those embraces he desired. I was very much troubled for fear Caligula would run to extremities and force my master to that abhored act, searching and trying every bar of the window I at last sound one loose, which after almost a whole dayes la­bour I got out of the Fastning, although it gave no meanes of escaping through the window, it being too high and other crosse barrs hindring, yet we pre­serv'd it for a weapon against the last exegent. The next day Caligula told the Prince he was resolved no longer to depricate for a thing which was in his power, and to which he was resolved to force him. He bid him take his choice whether he would consent willingly, or be forc'd, for he would stay no longer, Dardanus was so vext that he would not answer him one word, but his looks exhibited the aversion he had to his motion. Caligu­la departed, vowing before the morning to have his will. We expected he would be as good as his word, and therefore we would not go to bed that night. I gave the Prince the iron bar for his defence, and so awaited the pleasure of Caligula. About the middle of the night we heard our prison dore unlock, and by the torches they brought we saw Caligula, enter with his sword drawn, and eight men more with planks and bords. They knew we had no weapons to resist them, and therefore they thought it a very easie matter to bind us according to the directions of Caligula whose sword was to be their defence. The Prince having a weapon, and seeing them weaponlesse, accounted this conquest so poor that he would not so much as rise from his seat to oppose them. Assoon as they were entred they made fast the dore on the in­side, & laying down their planks, joyned them together, at whose ends were sower iron stables with loops, into which they had intended to have lock'd the Princes armes and legs, and so to have expos'd him to the enormous lust of that poedo. When they had made every thing fit, come (said that brute I mean Caligula) we must force the modesty of this young man, who like many virgins will out of pudicity be forced to what they desire, see how he sits, you need not fear his strugling, with that these hangmen advanc'd with every one a cord in his hand, but the first as came with in the reach of the Prince, paid for his boldnesse, the blow being delivered with a sure hand, and animated by a fury that possest him at the sight of Caligulas's wickednesse, the bar entred his skull and beat his braines into his companions faces. This amazed those pucill soules, and the animations of Caligula, were to no purpose for they did not dare to come within the reach of the Prince his wea­pon. Caligula with his sword did his endeavour to deprive the Prince of his life, but he with one blow broke it in the middle, and left him as weapon­lesse [Page 214] as his companions. In the mean time I gained the dore and getting thence the Keys, depriv'd them of all hope of flying, after the fall of four of those wretches the Prince told the rest that they were not to expect their lives but by binding Caligula after the same manner, as they had purpos'd to have bound him. They would have accepted of any conditions for their lives, and they thought this but a poor ransom, for what they had de­served, they presently bound Caligula and fastned him to the board, who was so enraged that he endeavoured to have tore his own flesh, but that he could not reach it with his teeth, for his neck, arms and feet were so fast that he could not stir any way. After I bound the hands of the other four behind them (who never resisted) that they might not unbind Caligula. After the Prince had upbraided that monster sufficiently with his wickednesse we departed (locking the dore after us that they might not pursue us) and left them to be found the next day with scorn and laughter. We immediately went to the port, and finding a ship just at breake of the day bound for A­frica and putting off, we embarqued our selves and with a fair wind arrived on that shore, the Prince being extreamly contented at the retaliation Caligula had met with.

We stayed not long on that shore, but imbarquing in a vessell bound for Byzantium, we crost good part of that archipellago, when the usual Caprichi­ousnesse of that element display'd it self, and after a long aestuation of the waters, our unfortunate vessell struck against a rock on the coast of Cilicia. We were forc'd to make our arms do the office of oars, and by dividing that liquid element gain that more stable and sollid one. After we had re­covered the shore and had lost our wearinesse and wetnesse by the refresh­ments we purchas'd of the inhabitants of the place, we travelled by land, going directly to the Propontis, intending to crosse over there to Byzantium. We were allmost at our intended place when we were set upon by ten men who lived on the spoyle and ruin of others. We oppos'd them at least two houres and the incomparable valour of the Prince had lay'd three of them at his feet when they found that he was neither invincible nor invulnerable, for the losse of blood at so many wounds which he had received had taken away the vigour of his arme, and made his blows but weake and inconsiderable, he was falling to the earth, and those desperate assasins were about to perpe­trate a villany, which would have extracted teares from the eyes of a whole Kingdome, when one arrived at that exigent, who dissipated those mur­therers sooner than the bright shine of Sol could the smallest mist. That in­pious one who had his arme and sword a loft, with an intent to have plun­ged it into the breast of the Prince, lost it before he could execute his de­termination for the sword of our deliverer amputing it close to his shoulder made it fall at the feet of Dardanus, as it were out of humility for his superbous insurrection.

Flying like thunder and lightning amongst the rest, he did such actions that must needs loose their glory and their grace by being told by a humane tongue. But two escaped his fury for which they were beholden to their a­gility and slight. What we had seen made us doubt whether it were not Ma­vors himselfe, and made us approach him with reverence; but the Prince and our deliverer no sooner beheld one another, but they fell betwixt each others armes, and with a joy inexpressable continued a long time without utterance. To keep you no longer from the knowledge of this content, and wrapt, 'twas his dear friend Argelois who so fortunately came to our succour, and whose sight, with the consideration of what he had done, had almost caused Dardanus to expire in his joys. After the first ardencies were over, Argelois and my self leading the Prince between us, with the help of Fonteus, his Squire, we went towards the house of Miletus a wealthy [Page 215] merchant and father to Argelois. By the way we saw a man who crossing the path before us was taking another way, but looking at a distance upon us, and seeing us lead the Prince with some difficulty, he turned towards us, and comming near. I think (said he) that this Gentleman whom you lead is wounded, If you are destitute of a chirurgion, being (as I thinke) far from houses, and if you dare trust my fidelity, I shall apply that which shall soon stop the efflux of his blood which else will be much to his detriment. The man comming nearer and looking very earnestly upon the prince, Oh Gods! (cryed he out) what see I here! And with that embraceing his knees, Ah! my prince (said he) have you forgot your servant Chiron. The Prince at these words embraceing him, ask'd after the health of his parents. There is nothing lacking to make them happy, but your company (said he) ever since the King heard of your departure from Athens he hath sent most of his servants to all places, whither he could think you were gon, to seek you. Twice have I return'd after several investigations to no purpose, and now was I re­turning the third time when my charity forceing me to help the wounded, hath repaid me with the fin [...]ing of my Prince. See what 'tis to be charitable, had I not had pity on others I had lost this happinesse I have found. Presently this able su [...]gion causing us to set the Prince on the side of a green hill aply'd some­thing that stop't the blood, and left dressing of him, till we could come to some house for fear of the wind. Causing the Prince to mount his horse we presently attained the house of Miletus, where we were very generously re­ceiv'd, and where we stayed the recovery of the Prince.

The excellent remedies of this vulnerary Physitian soon recuperated Dar [...]anus, and gave him the liberty of leaving his consinement. He was no sooner well, but preparing to be gone, he desired Argelois to accompany him to Byzantium. Sir, (said Argelois) there is no happiness that I esteem like that of your company, and these ligaments both of friendship and fa­vours which I received, make me inseparably yours. But my word (which every generous man ought to keep inviolably) being already eng [...]ged, I must deny my self of the happiness you so freely proffer me. So it is, that I have already promised to meet the general of those Legions which lay here abouts, about seven dayes hence, and to accompany him into Armenia against Artabanes, who hath begun the war in those parts against the Romans. The P [...]ince hearing this would not u [...]ge him to break his promise but told him: seeing 'twas so that he could not accompany him he was resolved not to returne, but to accompany him into Armiri­nia. Love [...]oth not so much consider our own pleasure and delight as of the object beloved, there was nothing more agreeing to Ar­gelois than the company of the Prince, and yet he perswaded him not to go, exhibiting the hazard and danger he should incur, and the trouble he should cast on his father and Countrey. But no remonstrance shaking the resolutions of Dardanus, he wrote a letter to King Palemon his father, in which he desired to be pardoned for the liberty he had taken, and that seeing he had sufficiently profited in his studies, he would give him leave to follow the exercise of armes, that if ever he came to possess that Crown which his father enjoyed, and which he wished might sit long upon his head; he might know as well how to make use of his arms in war, as of his learning in peace, that by the one he might quell the rebellious, and by the other maintain in peace the disobedient. With this letter he dispatch­ed Chiron with hopes of his sudden return. The day being come wherein Argelois according to his promise was to meet those forces destined for Ar­menia, we departed from Miletus, the Prince using that liberality that evermore accompanieth able and generous spirits. Miletus and his wife could not restrain those tears which natural Love extracted at the abrep­sion of their son, whose vertue indeed every where acquires the Love of [Page 216] the most barbarous. When we were come to the place of randezvous the Captain of those Legions, made Argelois a Centurion, whose authority he equally shared with the Prince, being at the height of his contentment in having so dear and noble a Companion. If it might be lawfull to com­memorate the actions of Fonteus and my self, with those of our Masters, I would tell you that we sought to imitate them in an affection so cordial and intire. Fonteus and my self then began that amity, which ever since we have kept inviolably, and which cherisht our duties and love to our ma­sters. We having the honour to attend on them, we marched into Ar­menia, enduring those hardships which are attending on sudden and hard marches. We there found a potent enemy to deal with, but the courage of the soldiers, and I may say the valour and judgement of the Prince and Argelois made us rather victors, than else, though their number al­most trebled ours. Tiberius was too slack in sending forces to this war, which was maintained a long time with the ordinary Legions, but at last perceiving the consequence of it, He made Vitellus General of all the forces in the Orient and Lord President of Syria. Whilst he was gathering his forces together that he might come to us with a considerable body, we gained a notable victory against Artabanes, in which conflict my Prince through the heat thar animated him, had so far engaged himself, that he was surrounded with his adversaries, and had undoubtedly lost his life in a Corona of two or three hundred Parthians, if his tutular Angel the in­vincible Argelois had not with a kind of prodigie broke that troop with the force and fury of his arm, and made them know by the terror that he brought, that there was nothing impossible for him to effect when the life of his friend was in danger. Two more scirmishes we had before the Ar­rival of Vitellus, in both which the Prince my master encountred with Arsa [...]es son to the King of Parthia, and by the valor that he shewed, made himself fear'd of the Parthians, and esteemed of the Romans. Ar­tabanes supplying the slain with fresh men, made up the breaches we had made, and had got a very considerable body before Vitellus came to us. Assoon as he was come, he gain'd in Pharasmanes to assist him, King of Hybe­ria, to whose troops those were adjoyned which Argelois led. We came at last to a battel with Orodes another son of Artabanus, and one whose valor was much esteemed. Dardanus, that day made himself remarkable by the terror which he carried where ever he went. He had cut himself a way through the midst of his enemies, and with a lane of dead bodies came where Orodes was animaring his men, and both by words and deeds insti­gateing them not to sink under the force of their enemies. To him the Prince buckled, who entertained him with courage and skill, a long while they fought, hemmed in with intermingled troops of Parthians and Ro­mans, who for the defence of these two leaders made the greatest conflict of the battle. Dardanus at last wounded Orodes in many places, who had un­doubtedly died by his victorious hand, had not a fresh supply thundred in amongst us, seeing the danger of their Prince, and carried him wounded as he was from under the sword of the Prince. It was on him they sent all their fury, for sleying those that opposed them, they hemmed him in, and thought to have triumphed over his life with their numbers. I that was bound to follow him, accompanied him in that exigent, and saw those marvels he did, which should I relate, they would make you think I hy­perbolized his actions, or spake more by the rule of my affection than the verity of them. So many death-giving weapons which surrounded him, were not able to take away his life, the boldest sell under his sword, and served for Rampers of defence against other invaders, he defended himself, though wounded in many places, and drowned in blood and sweat. It was [Page 217] impossible but he must have yielded to their number, wounds, loss of blood, and saintness, and at last have fell amongst the extinct, if Argelois had not a­rived, who hearing of the danger of the Prince broke thorow with some re­solute followers, and there doing some of his usual wonders. gave life and freedome to Dardanus, and an absolute victory to the Romans. By these, and other exploits Argelois and Dardanus, acquired so great fame amongst the Romans, that they thought them somewhat more than men, and gave them more applauses than their modesties would permit them to take. The most noblest sought to acquire their friendship, and both the Generals and Souldiers sought to give them testimonies of their common resentments, with their applauses and civilities.

At last the Parthians were beaten, and Vitellus with the chief of his Ar­my retired to Artaxata, where they made great preparations for the crown­ing of Tyridates King of Arminia. At the same time the Clites a people of Capadocia rebelled, against whom Vitellus sent Tribulus with four thou­sand of the legionary soldiers, with the choisest of the Auxilliaries. This Tribulus above all the rest had in great estimation the Prince Dardanus, and had shewed his affection by his many civilities. Dardanus on the other side shewed that his vertue and his valor had won him to a very great familiarity, and that he presered him to all the Romans in the Army. There being now no longer occasion of shewing their valor in Arminia, that being the chief­est cause of their jorney they put themselves amongst the forces of Tribu­lus, who extraemely joyfull of their company, told them, that he account­ed his enemies already slain, fince he was accompanied with that valor that was invincible. He gave them the cheif command under himself, and by many other civilities made it appeare that his love and affection was sincere.

You must not doubt but that those people we went against, were soon over come having to deal with the conquerers of Nations and the two invincible youths, my Prince and Argelois. We indeed routed them and quieted that nation notwithstanding those scopulosous and nemorosous places which sheltred them from our fury. Dardanus and Argelois shewing their valour dayly to be aug­mented with their travel and labour, made Tribulus for the good service they had done him to build two trophies on the two hills, Codrus and Dava­rus on both which they had exhibited the utmost a mortall arme could be able to effect. Valour hath a secret force in gaining of hearts, and causing Love, but not only the valour of these two heroes, but their amiable cariage, and pleasing conversation had so won Tribulus, that he wisht his enimies yet to subdue that he might longer have enjoyed their com­pany.

For these warrs being finished the Prince resolved to return, that he might ease the hearts of so many hundreds that languished in his absence. Before we lest the generous Tribulus he opened (as I may say) the secrets of his heart to the Prince, and discovered some things conserning the Princess Eliana which but few in the world knew of besides himself, and shewing him letters which he had received from his wife at Rome, complained much against the insolencies of Piso son to the murtherer of Germanicus. These freedomes caus'd the Prince to discover himself to him and to proffer him the shelter of his fathers court against those enimies Fortune had raised him.

And promised him to go and visit Eliana, and to be her guardian till he could disengage himself from those warrs to come to Rome. These generosities caused Tribulus to embrace the Prince, and to desire his pardon for that his ignorance had made him not to treat him as a Prince. Tribulus seing [Page 218] Dardanus his resolutions gave him his tables for his wife, and after a thousand embraces and expresions of the nearest amity he parted from the Prince, and Argelois; leading his victorious troops towards Artaxata to meet with Vitellus, we presently began our journy to Rome, and before we came thi­ther the Prince accidentally heard that Caligula had employ'd abundance of emissaries for the finding of a man that had abused him in Neapolis, whose head he had set a large price upon, and that he had offered large summes for a Praemium for him that could bring him either alive or dead. The Prince perceiving the danger he ran in entring Rome, would not for all that breake a promise which he had made to Tribulus, but sufficiently dis­guizing himself under the habit of a woman, my self assuming that of her waiting maid, we entred that Metropolitan, which infer'd chaines on all the world, Argelois owning the Prince, for his wife. We spent ten days very securly, but all our endeavours to find out the wife of Tribulus was in vaine for she had forsaken her house and was retired so secretly that none of her friends could give us any directions where to find her. We had given over that investigation and were about to leave the city, when in viewing the pallaces and other rarities of the City Caligula had espied the Prince in his womanish habit, but not knowing him, he sent one of his [...]ervants to Fonteus to desire that he might know who she was. Fonteus told the messen­ger that she was the wife of his master, who was a stranger, and who had not been long in those parts. He presently coming to Argelois with a great deal of Eloquence, begun his civilities, and acquaintance, to which Argelois answered in very obliging termes, and resolved all his questions with extem­porary fictions. That brute at last casting his eye on my Prince, Your wife said he to Argelois doth so much resemble a man that lately did me the greatest injury in the world, that did not you aver her to be your wife I should thinke 'twas that impostor under a female habit. He parted after these words, and we not mistrusting the least from that dissimulator, (who verily is one of the greatest in the world) passed along, laughing to see how neatly we had beguiled him. But whether it were the extream beauty that accom­panied the Prince under that dresse, or whether the same face now more beautifully garnished, stirr'd up the hidden fire of Calugula I know not, but so it was he was all on fire, and in Love with the wife of Argelois, and before we could gain our lodging met us again with so many men that in spite of all the Resistance of Argelois, he forc'd us two counterfeit females from him leaving him almost dead with the wounds he had received in our defence, having no other guard than his sword, we were presently carried to a strong house as prisoners, but not knowing whether we were discovered or noe, we counterfeited the woman as much as we were able. After those that had brought us thither had left us within the liberty of sever­all chambers rich enough to have entertained a princesse, and strong enough to have retained a Hercules, Caligula came to us, haveing drest up and perfumed his deformed and rotten carcase, that had my mistres been in Love with clothes and perfumes she had there met with the object of her desires.

He approached her with a great deale of respect, and told her, that 'twas only Love had made him commit that violence, which was contrary to his na­ture and disposition, and that deity had not wounded him by halves, but that he had bestowed all the dartes in his quiver upon him, so that he was all wounds, and all flames, and that no other hands than hers could recu­perate him. The Prince making but a jest of this danger, seeing he was not discovered was resolved to play upon him, and faining not to understand him: Sir (said she) I am very ill acquainted with the language of Rome, and I know not how to interpret words that cary another sence with them: [Page 219] They are paradoxes to me, you tell me you have fell into the flames, and received many wounds, when I see neither scarr nor burning. But if it be so and that my hand hath that virtue which I was ignorant of, you needed not to have used this violence to one who accounts it the highest de­gree of virtue to be charitable. Ma [...]iam (said he) these flames are too internall to be seen, and are far beyond the scorching of the elementall fire, 'tis a metaphor which we take up to expresse the ardencie of our Love, and were there any thing that could better expresse it, mine is so reall, you may be sure it would have dictated it to me. Sir (reply'd my Prince) I can never trust a double tongue, for how can I believe him that speaks one thing when he means another? We women do not understand your mysterious kind of speaking, and had I known that they had spoke in Rome by metaphors I would have brought one of those priests who use to interpret our Hierogliphiks, it may be he might have given me the true sence of your words, and told me 'tis some hot burning feavour that you have got, or else the Erysipilas, which to cure I am utterly ignorant of. Alas madam (reply'd Caligula) I do not believe you are so ignorant in the termes of Love, as not to understand my meaning, I Love you madam and that so ardently that I am willing to shed the last drop of my blood to do you service. Would you be let blood then? (return'd this pleas­ing counter [...]it) my husband though he doth not use it, yet for a need can do it as well as any man in R [...]m [...], if you please to send for him. I doubt not but he will endeavovr to pleasure you. No, madam, you mistake me, (said he) and seeing you do not understand these amotous terms I'le tel you I Love, yea and 'tis you that I Love: and that with an ardency that cannot be parrallel'd. What Me [...]a­phor is that? (said the countersit madam) you told me flames signify Love, what doth Love signify? adoration and affection (said Caligula) you will make me believe that I am some divinity anon (said the prince) I do not love to be ador'd, and therefore surcease those termes lest being taken for a Goddesse I should be fixed to some altar, and there starved to death with devotions. Caligula was between vext and pleas'd with these kind of answers, but whilest he was considering what to returne, the prince remembring in what condition he had left Argelois, left these rallaries, and told Cali­gula, that if he lov'd her as he said, or did ever expect any thing at her hands he should send immediatly to see what was become of her husband. Caligula told her he would do that, and any thing else she would command, and leaving us sent his servant to see after Argelois, but all their diligence could not find him, nor hear whether he was alive or dead. This news extreamly afflicting my prince, made him consult which was the best way we could take for our escape, and finding our prison too strong to be broke, we found it the best way as to counterfeit a compliance with Caligula and by that means enlarge our freedome. We were honorably at­tended, and lack'd nothing but our liberties, and that monster seemed so far in Love with the Prince that he was never out of our companies, he sought to rectify nature, and to cover those deformities which made him displeasing with art and care. He fell at last to doting, and rendring himself to the will of his mistres, became an absolute lover. Assoon as ever he could escape from his wife he was with us, where he spent most part of his time in discourses as ridiculous as impertinent. At last he gave us the liberty of a garden to walk in, and permitted me to go into the City to fetch any thing my mistris wanted, when he saw that she began to understand him, and to give him hopes of obtaining his desires. I sought all Rome but could not hear of Argelois, which made the Prince fear he had been dead, and gave him the true feelings of the greatest trouble could be rais'd by the nearest amity. We had been now a month in this imprisonment, when I being permitted to go into the City bought two scaling ladders made of silke twisted, that [Page 220] I might carry them undiscover'd, with these we had plotted to have got over the garden wall, which was very high, and so have escaped, but we were never left there alone, but either himself or some other company was with us, which frustrated our intent. The Prince knowing no other means to escape, feigned to be overcome by that monster, and promised that night to admit him into her chamber, but feigning a modesty, desired him, not to let any be privie to his escape, and to satisfy her fear, made him promise to sescure those in the house from coming to the knowledg of her amoreta's. His thoughts prelibateing his pleasure, presently testified his Joy in his eyes, and promis'd to perform every thing punctually. The night being come the Prince resolved to shew him that he had more strength than an ordinary femal cuting the cords of our bed with which we had resolved to bind him; we a waited his coming, haveing a taper burning in the roome.

He sail'd not to come as he had appoynted, but finding my mistris up, I hope madam (said he) that you have not chaing'd yours resolutions, and out of the highest of my contentments, to sling me into the greatest misseries by de­nying me the fruition of that happinesse which I hop'd this night to have pos­sest. Feare need not cause this change, for I assure you I have taken such or­der that your self could not desire more. No Caligula (said my Prince) I hold my resolutions. Still, and you shall enjoy those embraces you so much desire. With that rising up he call'd me, and taking the cords out my hands. You shall see Caligula what a femal strength is able to do. Caligula was so amaz'd at this action that he stood immovable till the Prince had taken hold of his hands. But when he saw that his mistres had an intent to bind him, between smiling and frowning not knowing whether to take it in jest or anger, he went to thrust her from him but he met with a strength that was not so easily to be re­pulst, Cailgula (said the Prince) you have been mightily deceived in taking me for a woman, these hands ought to be fatall to you for your enor­mities, I am the same that heretofore by your own instruments bound you to the planchets, when you had intended a crime against nature and Heaven. With that flinging him on the flore bound both his hands and feet together not­withstanding all his strugling and force. When he had bound him so that he could not sturr, your life (said the Prince) is now at my mercy, but I spare it in hope that by these exemplar exhibitions of the justice of the Gods, ye will leave you crimes and not force them to greater severities after your contempts of their mercies. With this we left him raging mad for this capricio of for­tune, and finding the way open into the garden mad use of our scaleing lad­ders and so escap'd. The next day chainging our habits into that proper to our sex, we left Rome with the earliest light, and taking shiping at the mouth of the Tyber we embarqued for Byzantium, where being arived you may con­ceive with what Joy, and tryumph the Prince was receiv'd after so long ab­sence. But he not finding Argelois there, whom he had hoped might (if he had escap'd) have gon theither was so dejected that he was not sensible of those pleasures they prepared for him, and would certainly have once more ventu­red his life in Rome to have heard of his friend, if his arivall with Tribulus and Eliana had not diverted it, and filled him with that Joy his presence all­ways brought with it. They were all entertained according to the desires of the Prince, Argelois as his friend, favourite and deliverer, Tribulus to his estate and condition, Eliana as a Princesse and daughter to the Kings ancient friend and ally. They had not been longe at the court before the beauty ver­tues and comly grace of that Princess, though left destititute of a crown through the usurpation of the Romans, gained so the heart of the King and Queen that they thought her a match fit for my Prince Dardanus, on which there hath been many treaties with Tribulus who is to dispose the princesses mind un­to it, who without doubt will not deny to her selfe so great happinesse. The [Page 221] King is allready preparing for this mariage, at which will be those tryumphs, which this part of Asia never yet beheld.

After Euripides and Lonoxia had made known the pleasure they received by this relation, and had given Epedauro thankes for his paines, they went to Argelois whom they found amidst his ordinary musings in the place where they left him. 'Twas almost night, and therefore contracting his stay after some ordinary discourse he would have took his leave of them, but they proffering to waite on him to the utmost limits of their praecincts, they went forth into the Grove together. Euripides joyning himself to Argelous went a little before Lonoxia and Epidauro. Sir (said he softly to Argelois,) I cannot blame this sadnesse which I read in your face, I am very sensible of your affliction. Love and generosity make a kind of war in your breast, the one pleads against Dardanus the other speakes for him. I confesse Fortune could have found out nothing more Crosse, than to make your great friend, deprive you of that felicity you might have expected in obtaining Eliana. The Gods can wittnesse (said Argelois sighing) that I could never frame a thought of so much happinesse to my self. No Euripedes that were too high presumption. I am criminall enough in Loving, which yet may have some Colour of pardon, for that it is not in my Power to forbid, but thoughts being at my own dispose would render me in the highest degree guilty, should I to please my fantasie think of any other happinesse than that of being her slave and ser­vant. Sir (said Euripedes) your have not acquitted your self of the promise you made, which was the Relation of those remarkable passages you have run through; what we have heard from Epidauro, and which was contingent with the Life of Dardanus is defective, though by the pleasure we received in that, we may judge what we shall receive in the relation of the whole. I will not contradict your error (said Argelois) though I can assure you there is no­thing left worthy of your audition, because I hope it may prove attractive, to draw you past the limmits of your domicile, to visit that place where I reside, where I engage, if the hearing of my fortune can do it, to give you that content you propose to your self. You may be sure (said Euripedes) it shall not be long e're I obtain it, seeing it may be so easily purchased. As they were about to proceed in their discourse, they heard the sound of certain voyces which by the cicumlation in the aire strook their eares. Stopping that they might the better hear from whence the sound came, they heard the grons of a man which with a plaintive voyce seem'd to speak to some injurors. De­sire of helping the distressed, as well as Curiosity caus'd this small company to presse through the thickest of the trees, following the sound by their eares: they paced a great way amongst the trees, which being so thick debarred them of the sight of the men whose voyces they had heard. They were come very near when stopping, they heard very distinctly these words. Obstinate man! (said one) is it not better for you to give me the knowledge of what I desire than to endure these torments? when what you preserve is for a man whom you have sought for in vain these five years, and whom without hope of ever finding, and your self believing him dead, have given over your search? Leave being thus injurious to your self, and disclose that treasure which other­wise must perish with your self. Wee'lshare it betwixt us, and I promise you more than enough to make you happy for ever, if not, more rigorons torments than these shall force you at last to confesse or else death shall assault you by my hand. Cruell and false wretch! (replyed the other) think not that either your flatteries or your threates shall be able to extort that from me which I am resolv'd never to disclose. All the torments that you are able to inflict my fidelity to my master shall make me able to bear. No assassin, there are weapons not fit to be touched by such murtherous wretches as you are for then they might become distructive to the whole earth, why ceasest thou [Page 222] thy tormenting; you see I am willing to suffer for that I account these punish­ments justly inflicted, in that I have been so foolish as to declare those secrets which I ought not to have done. And my years might have experi­enced that a covetous desire neither regards the lawes of Humanity, no [...] of the Gods, After these words they heard the strokes that were inflicted on the complainant, and being desirous to free that miserable man out of the hands of his tormentors they hasted to the place where they found a man with his arms bound round about a tree, and his feet in like manner bound; and being stript from his shoulders to his wast, was all over blood; caused from the stripes of two who executed the commands of another that stood by. They had worne to pieces severall reeds wherewith they tormented him, and were receiving new from the hands of their master, when these diliverers came. They were exceedingly abashed at the sight of Argelois and his companions: but their master forcing them to stay, expected to know who they were. Argelois coming to him demanded what reason he had to inflict such cruel­tyes on the man they say tormented. He to [...]d him that he was his slave, and that they might punish them without breaking any Laws or giving any ac­count to any, of their chastisements, and that 'twas not without good reason that he used such rigorousnesse to the man they beheld; he that was bound to the tree hearing this expostulation and turning back his head, shewed that his face carried no character of a slave, and his hair and beard which was grown white with either time, or cares, exhibited an age that might have caused pity and reverence in his tormentors, Who e're you be (said he) that are arrived to behold the cruelties of this man, believe him not, for I never yet was a slave to any one much lesse to him. I have a perswasion that ye are generous e­nough to release me from this mans unjust persecutions, without being perswa­ded, by any other oratory than that of my blood and wounds, which are praevalent enough to exussitate pity in any heart that professeth humanity. He spake these words with such an indifferency that was incapable for the heart of a slave to have entertained.

Argelois commanded those who had been his tormentors to become his releaso [...]s, and being unbound he came and gave them those thanks that so great a mercy could require. I ever thought (said he) that just Heaven would at last ease me of those miseries I underwent without mur­muring, and that he would with some kind of miracle exhibit his goodness to me. I see at last my suggestions were not in vain, and he hath made you the happy instruments of my release. To you therefore I devote my self, and will for ever terme my selfe by that name, which my tormentor but now imposed upon me. I am your slave and shall think it no disgrace to ac­knowledge these mercyes by that title and place. Stopping at these words on a sudden he fixed his eyes upon Euripedes, and shewing by his sudden al­teration in his face I know not what emotion in his heart, he was not able to speak or stir; they all took notice of this emotion, & imputeing it to his paines were about to exercise their Charities about him, when cry­ing out, O Gods! (said he) either now you compleat my joyes, or I am extreamly deluded. Certainly this face I behold bears some markes of that which I so long have sought, and though time since I saw it, hath spread it with a silver down, yet its species being thorowly impressed in my mind, I am extreamly mistaken if it be not that which must consummare my happinesse, and give end to my investigations. Oh assure me my deliver! (keeping his eye sixt on Euripedes) that my joy is not a vanity, pluck me out of this doubt, and end this emotion, by telling me if you never knew Euripedes. He was startled at these words and looking very intentive upon him told him he did not know him, but for him whom he had named [Page 223] if he ment Euriped [...]s of Cilicia he needed no longer doubt but he beheld him. Those countreys wh [...]h I have past, and those torrid climates (said the stranger) which our ages poets have falsly sung to have been uninhabitted, through which I have wandred, may very well through the heat of that orientall deity have altered my countinuance, that you may not therein see any Printes of that of your servant Meadors. But (continued he casting him­selfe at Eurip [...]des his feet) behold him who once gloried under that title and who could never account himselfe happy, so long as he was separated from Euripedes. The Gods who in plucking me out of the midst of my mi [...]eries, and with a kind of miracle and so unexpectedly placeing me in the midst of my joyes and happinesse, proclaime to the world [...]y me that there is nothing so pleasing to them as that resignation to their wills which they will receive before they effect our desires or Prayers.

Euripedes astonished at this accident fell almost insensible upon his squires face, and by the embraces that he gave him, shewed that though time had defaced his image in his memory, yet that it had not rooted out the affecti­on he bore in his his heart. After their first joyes had given them leave to recollect their dissipated spirits, Argelois came and was partaker of their content. Presently clothing Meador they departed, and dismissing his tor­mentors, carried with them the cheif, whom they bound resolving to make him feel the effects of the like scourges. By the way asking after Araterus, I left him (said Meador) in that prosperity which the greatest Monarchs in the East enjoy. I intend to give you the relation of all that is remarkable since our unhappy separation, and thesore I will not anticipate my relation, by declaring the condition of your kindsman, They were just then arrived at the grot, and being almost night. I must take my leave of you (said Ar­gelois) but let me desire you to deny your self that contenment and plea­sure of hearing the relation of your Squire till the morrow, that I also may partake of it: In the mean time you may make him acquainted with those visissitudes Fortune hath engaged you in. I shell deny my self this and much more to pleasure you (replyed Euripedes) I will follow your Councell and Crucisie, my desires till you come. Argelois gane him many thanks for that favour, and told him he would secure his prisoner in the Castle, having a more convenient lodging for such persons than he could afford in the grote. Leaveing them in their contentments, he returned with his prisoner and E­pidauro to the Castle, where according to his order he was secured. Night having indued her sable Mantles, and the princesses being in their Chambers, he went directly to histen to take that repose for which the night was or­daned.

THE HISTORIE of ARATERUS.

VIrtue (what ever the vicious thinke) although she be often banded against by that power to which we attribute the name of incon­stant, and mutable, at length overcomes her, triumphs over her, and wears the crowns of her victories with an immutable fortune. But yet, should she not receive this reward whilst the soule remaines in the domicill of flesh, I am confident the Justice of the Gods would return it a hundred sold after she is departed to the Elysiume some indeed they reward here, yet not denying those hereafter: and pay their perseverance, with rewards corresponding to their deserts. Amongst the rest Araterus has tasted of their bounty, which is in consideration of his virtue, and though what we are able to do in consideration of those deities, is nothing and not worthy the least rewards, yet they are just and repay our wills and devoyres, with happinesses transcending our merits, and actions. Had you seen the perills and dangers we past, and the continuall prosecution of our ill fortune with the march­lesse patience of Aratearus, you would have thought, there had been no o­ther powers than those which continually seek the destruction of mankind, especially the virtuous, but as he endured all mischances without murmuring so at last the Gods have repayed him (I think) without example. I know by your own relation that the elapsion of so many years hath not made you forget the place and manner of our losse, and I believe that your kinsman had the sight of those implorations of yours to the Gods, which may be, were the cause of his preservation. After we had got those small pre­servations of life, which grew on the verging branches of the green trees, we returned to that place where we left you, but finding neither you nor the child, which fortune had cast on that place, I know not whether, we were more amazed or grieved. At last griefe bursting forth into words and teares Araterus wept forth such complaints, that testified how ardently he affected you, but amazednesse sometimes stopping his speeches, gave him time to consider which way you could be gone: indeed sometimes he accu­sed [Page 229] you for leaving him, sometimes he inveighed against heaven, and then against himself that he dared to speak against either. But at last turning all against fortune, he made her the sole cause of this accident. For my part, seeing you gone, and believing that 'twas impossible for us to escape death by famin in that pl [...]ce I would have anticipated it, by a voluntary precipitation into the sea, which like a mad man I had effected had not A­raterus by force more then entreaties deterred me.

After we had somwhat mitigated our grief by the effusion of our tears, and emission of our complaints, that we might not be guilty of our own deaths, Araterus having changed my mind with his good instructions, we e [...]t that food which was ready prepared by the maturating sun, and which extended themselves upon the verdant branches. In this condition we li­ved some weeks, till the slendernesse of of our dyet had so macerated our bodies, that we could hardly make our quotidian walkes to the sea side, in hope to find some winged transporter. In the time we were there Araterus researching that cave in which the Phantasmes apeared found in the tomb a lose stone, which being taken away discovered a large plate of copper, on which was insculpted the sea, with that great lamp of the world emerging it selfe, with this word in decumanal characters Oriens, under which was wrote in G [...]eek this prophesie.

After Araterus had read this he shewed it me saying there were large promises for some that he believed were not yet arrived the [...]e. After I had a while considered it, I was about to depart, when perceiving the last letter of the name to be made different from the rest, by a more notable character. I took more notice of it, and presently found that Suretara was read backwards Araterus. Immediately calling Araterus, who [Page 230] was gone to the mouth of the cave, I told him that praediction belonged on­ly to him, and therefore I desired him to relege it. Smileing at my words he did it, but not finding what I had done ask'd me the reason why I said so. I presently shewed him his name, and told him that with out Contradiction the wise Druide had foreseen his fortune, as well as his coming thither. He could not deny but that was his name, but yet he could give no credit to the Praediction, but rather believ'd that 'twas his fortune to be starved in the Iland. Whatsomever he thought, I could not get it out of my mind, but revisiting the place, I made it a potion against despaire, placeing a faith on what I desir'd might be, for desire is apt to cause a belief on any thing that may seem corresponding to it.

We were become mere skeletons, and my saith began to waver, when traversing the sands on the side of the Iland, more out of use than hope of seing any deliverance, Fortune or rather Providence, permitted the fury of that liquid Element, to cast a ship into a harbour of that Iland. We soon made known the miseries we had endured, our faces testifying to the verity of our speeches. They admitted us into their ship, and being of Africa, assoon as the impetuosity of the storme was allaid, which by its sudden ceasing seem'd created for our preservation, we hoised the sailes before the adjuvating winde, bidding adieu to the Iland, but not to our miseries: For we had not been long on the sea, before we were assaulted by two stout Pirates. Araterus was too weak to make any resistance, and those in the ship too few to withstand their assaul­ters, so that we were all made prisoners without any great labour. Araterus and my self were put into a Cabbin, where we found amongst other prisoners the captain of that ship which brought us to the desolate Iland. Having saluted him in Greek he told me that whilst we were gon into the Iland those pirates which had taken us prisoners having discryed our ship, made to them, and in spite of all their resistance took them prisoners with the barque, and conveighing them to a peninsula on the coasts of Africa not far from the greater Atlas, they were keept close prisoners, excepting when these rovers scoured the seas, they were put into the ship to use the owers when they were be calmed. To this peninsula we were had, being the habitation of these pirates, and a place that the Conspirations of Nature and Art had made impregnable. There was from the sea but one admittance, all other places riseing with high cliffs were butterresses sufficient to keep of the invasions of men, or waters. This admittance was by a river deep enough to carry ships of burthen: on each side of which the declineing rocks made a kind of Arch, on which with certain ginns there placed, two men by letting down strong peices of timber framed Cross wise, were able to impede the entrance of any ship, On this place they kept continual gaurd, and from whose summit they could discry all ships in the ocean for many Leagues. Being admitted we sailed up the river into the midst of the peninsula, in which place, through a great breach there was made a very safe and spacious bay. Here disimbarquing we were chained to certain barges, and rowed up to the neck of land which adjoyned it to the main, and through which the river ran. In this place those pirates had built a fort with a wall and dike from one side of the neck to the other, whereby they had made themselves impregnable. In this place we were imprisoned amongst others which they had taken, where we endured their indignities all­most a twelve month. Araterus had sufficiently enquired into the Condition of the Iland and their captain: He felt the pulses of many beating towards a change. And the perceived that nothing but want of an opportunity and introductions hindred their motion. Their captain was covetous, cruell, and unjust, depriveing them of their rights and liberties, and induceing a Tiranny without controulment. Araterus assoon as he had found their alienation augmented it by the charmes of his voluble tongue, and telling [Page 231] some that began to hea [...]ken after his words) that 'twas contrary to the nature of men, and the end of their creation to be restrain'd and subjugated by their fellow-creatures. That the Gods had created them free, and had im­posed no such tyranny upon them. That Kings, Lords, or Tyrants, were not first made and then others, for to be their slaves, but that the Gods made them Lords of the earth, and all the creatures: That one ought not to usurp such authority over another: that they were coequall with their captain, and that 'twas no other thing but subtilty and ambition that at first de­stroyed this coequality. That they could by no other argument justifie their occupation of Piracy, but by being conscious that they had an equall right, to the goods and creatures of the creation: and that 'twas contrary to the nature of their occupation, being Piracy most commonly is main­tained with community, or at least an equall distribution of those goods which fortune h [...]d given them. And that their Captain contrary to all this had usurp't an authority not given him, that he had dealt cruelly with them, that he depived them of their goods: that he made slaves of their persons, and that in following the dictates of his ambitious desires he would be­come something more than they could be able to beare; that then they would seek to ease themselves too late, after that with gifts, promises, hopes and flatte­ries he had tyed enough to his interest to make him formidable to the rest, and lastly if they did not desire to be enslaved 'twas no hard matter at that time to give a period to his ambition and their own thraldome. I say by inculcating these maxims into those that were ready enough to imbibe them, he inspir'd them with resolutions, which they followed and effected.

Araterus in this sought not only his liberty, but to have it accompa­nied with their ruin, which he could easily judge, would be effected by his counsel, for the confusion into which it would bring them, would induce their extermination.

These Praedonians fired with their resolutions soon augmented their par­ty, and beholding the actions of their Captain with a prejudiced eye they aggravated to the degree of hainous whatsomever he committed. Being no longer able to restrain their fury, they rebelled under the notion of li­berty and breaking the prison made all those retained therein on their side. They make Araterus their Captain, and with that impetuosity which ac­companies sudden and temerary actions assaulted their Captain, who at the first inckling having gained a party, met them with little lesse fury. All the Pirats were ingaged in either party, it being too great a shame for any to remaine neuters: so that almost half of them fell at the first encounter. There was on our party one wiser than the rest, who perceiving the effect of their losse, and foreseeing their ruin if they persisted, began to stop their fury by laying open the insulties of their actions; He told them that their actions had rendred them odious to their neighbours, and that being most of them banisht men, they dared not to return to their own Countryes: and that if they thought to live in others they must become slaves to the natives. That they had chosen a place, in which fertility and commodity resided, that out of severall Nations they had composed one little Colony, which for many years had been maintained with ease and a little valour, which he foresaw must be left: for that they could not be able to maintain it, they depriving one another of their lives. That they lived too happily, because 'twas wantonnesse had caused this distast at their Cap­tains actions, who he confest had taken too much liberty yet not compa­rable with their rebellions: that though the head were infected they should not presently kill the body or cut it off, but should have recourse to meanes sutable to the disease. That they might have represt their captaines au­thority without slaying one another, upon the advice of a prisoner who un­der [Page 232] the petence of counsel sought their destruction. He would have gon on but that Araterus having receiv'd notise of it and knowing, that the speech of a wise man might easily overthrow his Maxims, and deterre his designs, ran presently to the place, and crying out he was a traytor to their liberties that he was suborn'd by their Captain and that he deserved immediatly to dye, converted the hearts of the wavering multitude, and inspired them with their first fury. They immediatly stoned him to death as a traytor, and insinuator, shewing by that action how incapable the common prople are to judge of ve­rity, and making that Maxim good which saith they are a most violent torrent, full of mutability and instability, doing all their actions with te­merity and precipitancy. This obstacle being removed Araterus pursuing his designs placed all the prisoners in a band by themselves, and gave them most commonly the rereward, that he might lessen them as little as he could. Not caring much which side overcame so their men were but lessen­ed: he ingaged them in very desperate incounters, in the last of which they slew their Captain. Araterus now fearing their agreeing most subtilly sowed these seeds of discord that he expected the crop of his desires, by ma­king the one demand unreasonable termes of the other, and by sending me serectly to the other party to manifest to them his affection to see their u­nion, and that his party demanded unreasonable satisfaction contrary to his desires, and that they did not intend to prosecute it if they shewed them­selves resolved to withstand them, and that they should send to demand higher reparations of them.

These and other practises being agitated by Araterus bred so great a feud between them, that they came to another battel by which they were so lesned that he believed he might effect his desire Those that remained of the ad­verse party gain'd that which they called the Impr [...]gnable Fort, being some­what higher than the other upon a hill. This they kept knowing themselves secure from all attempts; for indeed 'twas impossible to take it, however Araterus busied them about the seige of it, as if he had made no difficulty of takeing it. All this while Arat [...]rus had kept good correspondency with the adverse party through my secret embassies, he sent me once more, and by his directions I told them that now they should see that his affection to them was not feigned but sincere and reall, that the next day their eyes should see him give that defeate to their enemies they would desire, upon their promise that they would let their gates be ready to receive him and those of his party if the other should be too strong for them. This they will­ingly agreed to, being their eyes were to be judges that Araterus ment not to fain. He had yet communicated this to none but my self, but in the morn­ing holding his party in hand that he would effect some strange stratagem, wil­ed them to embattell themselves, and that they should be ready to engage a­gainst him in a false skirmish before the fort, telling them that he doubted not but their enemies seeing it and believing they were fallen out amongst them­selves would sally forth hopeing to obtaine a notable victory, and by that means betray themselves into their hands. The pirates never imagining his deceit, having seen him hitherto so cordiall, and active in all encounters applauded it as a notable stratagem. Prepareing for this businesse he drew out the band of prisoners, telling them that it would colour the stratagem the better from their enemies, and leaving them instructions what to do, he with drew out of the fight of the rest of the pirates and seeing none with them but those that had been prisoners he told them what he had done, letting them know he was in earnest and not in jest, that they after had destroyed those, they should enter the fort where they should extirpe the last of that viperous brood. He aggravated their crimes, and how pleasing 'twould be to the Gods, and how acceptable to men. The unlawfulnesse of their actions, and cruelties of their natures, he extold their valour, told them he enduced them to [Page 233] nothing but what was glorious, and to what they should see him lead them with a free hand. The sense of their miseries and indignities received stimu­lated some to revenge, and others accounting it an act meritorious to extirpate such destroyers of human society, were excited to perpetrate it, some out of fear to be repugnant, and others out of compliance, so that there was none dis­senting but all gave him their hands to do their utmost for their in exterma­tion. Araterus presently appearing was met with a false skirmish according to his appointment, but they found to their cost that 'twas a true one; they saw they were betrayed when 'twas too late to help themselves. They from the fort seeing the verity of Araterus's promise rallied all their men and issued out to help to end his enterprize. Araterus seeing them, let them de­stroy their adversaries, whilst he rallying his confederates took breath and assoon as he saw the others had done their work, he intimated to his that now was their last part to be played, they fell upon them wearied with slay­ing thei [...] fellows, and amazed at this surcharge were halfe slain before they could recollect themselves. Araterus as if he had conserved himselfe for this last part, did such amazing actions that they attributed the sele over­throw to the vigour of his arme. Most of them were slain very few escap­ing from our fury, and by this meanes our selves were left free, and those monsters and robbers exterminated, their deaths and destruction exhibiting how dangerous a thing it was to trust an enemy.

Araterus having divided the Pyrats treasure amongst their exterminators stayed but few dayes before he departed, and accompanying some of the priso­ners that were of Gaul, we put into the river Ligeris. Parting with his company assoon as he was on shore, he resolved to travell over that coun­trey. Having followed our intentions some few dayes, as we were taking the fresh refrigerating air under the umbrella's of the trees we heard the confused musick of the yelping hounds, which having run down a fair stag deprived him of his life close by us. The company comming in, amongst the rest we observed a gentleman of a very handsome port, who seeing Ara­terus so night, came and saluted him very courteously. Araterus having re­turned his complement with an increment of words, describing you as well as he could, made an enquiry after you; and at the gentlemans request told him how he lost you and your name. He had no sooner heard it, but with open arms embracing him, he told him that the prison of his arms should retain him 'till he had padroned that crime which Love, Duty, and necessity had made him commit against him. Declaring presently what had hapned to him, and you, made himself be known to the Bruadenor Prince of the Veneti: Having in a word heard of your exploits & knowing by him of your going into Spain. Full of joy for this encounter we would have immediately departed, but Brua [...]enor expressing the great affection he bore you, forc'd us to ac­company him to a faire lodge, where he entertained us after a most royall manner, continually praising your vertue and valour, with an affection as ardent as his words were suaveous. Two dayes being expired we left him, contrary to his desires having pressed us much to have gon to his pallace with him, where he promised Araterus that entertainment he was unable to give in those woods, whither he had retyred to divert himselfe. We left him (sure) in an unfortunate hour, for taking our journey directly to Spain, we were come to the Pyrenaei when a very violent feavour seizing upon Araterus imprisoned him in his bed all that summer, the next spring arriving before he was able to go abroad. His feavour was aug­mented by the dolor he received at his stay, having fed himselfe with the hopes of seeing you: I could not leave him in that barbarous place among mountaines, and those messengers we sent, we never more heard of, the wars beeing then hot in Spain 'twas very difficult for any to passe without being taken prisoners or slaine. Assoon as he was able to sit his horse, [Page 234] he left his habitation and past the Pyre [...]aei, but we were no sooner in Spain but we were taken by a band of Romans, who delivering us to the camp martial we were detain'd amongst other prisoners which the fortune of war had gi­ven them. We were sent immediately to Ta [...]racon, and to the extreame grief of us both detain'd there all that summer, till that the Austures, Gal­licians and Cant [...]brians were wholy subdued and setled under their govern­ment. Then the Prisoners being distributed with other prizes amongst the Captains we were allotted to so generous a one, that he seeing some­thing more than common in the behaviour of Araterus freely gave us both our liberties, which we accepted with immensity of thanks for an act so wor­thy a Roman.

Seeing our selves free; I unripped my doublet, and with some gold I there kept in banco furnished our selves with horse and armes. Hope of finding you yet in Spain made Araterus res [...]lve a thorow search of that country, and directing our course towards the C [...]ntabr [...]ns, we went up the river Jberius, extenuating the discommodities of heat▪ by the cool­nesse, and pleasantnesse of the rouling waters. The excessive he [...]t of the Sun made us spend the meridies under the shadow of the fair spreading trees which made a kind of grove all along the rivers side. Araterus being ex­tended on the grasse, was taking that repose the meridiall heat insensibly draws one to, when not far from us, I heard one who with a kind of an­gry murmur reiterated your name, and Amenia's, with Epithets that shew­ed that rage and revenge were his chief simulators, awaking Araterus at this accident, I told him what I heard, and invited him to hear more, creep­ing on our knees and hands upon the grasse, we came close to those thick bu­shes that interposing hindred us from seeing him where we heard him in close and an angry tone, invoke the Gods for your destruction, and petition them that he might but find you to revenge himself for the injuries you had done him. Amongst many other words that his fury and distemper made him ut­ter, I retained these. Cruel mischance! (cryed he out) just as I hoped for the fruition I had so long expected! but who can conquer Fortune, that mocker of our hopes? I thought I had been past all danger of her mocke­ries, I thought she had done her utmost against me, I thought the cruell Goddesse had given me Amenia for to recompence the losse of the Kingdom she hath taken from me. Cruell destiny, inexorable goddesse! thou art nothing but illusions! no thou knowest no other way to make Mandone throughly miserable but by this last ereption of all my comfort, with Ame­nia, furies! snakehaired sisters! asist me: Fill me with your veniferous potions! add fire to my flames, and let your stings give me no rest till I have revenged my self on that cursed vagabond Euripedes, and that strum­pet Amenia. Assist me in my invention, and they shall know there is no rage like that of love, converted to fury and revenge; your selves shall be lesse cruell than I will be in inflicting those tortures, rage, wrath, and revenge provoke me to. No Euripedes thy weak arme cannot help thee now I am assisted by the internall Furies, wrath and revenge. Thou shalt find that my arme is stronger than it was, and the inspirati­on of rage hath augmented my forces. And thou Amenia shalt repent thee of thy folly, thy beauty, nor teares shall move me to any pity; no, I will blind my eyes with revenge, and answer thy demerrits with whips of steel.

Araterus after he had listned a while to the rage and fury of this man, im­patient of longer delay, and hoping by him to learn some newes of you, lest his secret ausculation, and presenting himselfe to that mad man; I have heard (said he) accidentally what your fury hath made you vent against a man whom I go in Quest of, and who is my friend and kinsman: The ar­dent desire I have to meet with him induces me to pardon your crime, up­on [Page 235] condition you direct me where I might find him, otherwayes consan­ [...]tinity and f [...]iendship ties me to chastise the irregularities of your tongue. The man who by th [...]e words was sufficiently roused, cast himselfe upon his feet, ev [...]ginating his sword, Gods! (cryed he) I thank ye for sending one that dares maintaine the Quarre [...]l of Eurip [...]des, how great e [...]e will this be to me that his friend shall bear the first Stigma's of my fury. With­out other words he assaulted Araterus, with his ey [...]s that shewed rage and des [...]e [...]atenesse, and with so much strength, and fury, that it made me doubt of the event.

Araterus opposed him with a sufficient courage and animosity, and op­po [...]ed to his strength and fury, skill and Judgment. The battle hung long in suspence, blood and wounds having been equally shar'd, till at last af­ter three hours endeavour, Victory began to declare her selfe for Araterus, Mandone be [...]inning to faint with the losse of blood and courage. I expect­ed every minute when he would fall, when Fortune shewing one of her usuall p [...]ankes, had like to have given away the victory and life of Araterus to Mandone. Araterus warding a back blow of Mandone's and stepping back stumbl [...]d at a shrub, which intangling his leg flung him on the ground. Mandone no [...] loosing that opportunity thrust his sword in at the buckling of his Cu­race, which neverthelesse with the sudden turning of Araterus mist his bo­dy and piercing the other side pinned him fast to the ground. Mandone drawing his dagger sell upon him, and had there put a period to the life of Araterus, If I, seeing the danger he was in, had not, whilst he was busie in taking away the life of Araterus, deprived him of his, with a thrust which I gave him in at the back. Araterus arising pulled off the cask of Mandone, and finding him stone dead, instead of the thanks I expected, very an­gerly told me that he had rather, he had dy'd than that his honour should be destain'd by so cowardly an act. Abash'd at this insulsity I replyed, that no wise men but would disowne such generosity, which had rather lose a li [...] that ought to be preferred to all the world, before the breach of such a foolish pun [...]illo. I told him that I did not do it till necessity urg'd me to it, and that it was no stain to his honour, himselfe not consenting to the fact; and that I hoped he would not be angry at my care of his life, but rather that he should have accounted me a monster to have stood by and have seen him murthered without lending him my assistance. My teares haveing more powe [...] than my words, and promising to offend him no more in the like, pacifyed his anger, and reconciled him to me. Leav­in [...] the place, and the dead body of Mando [...]e, we rode to the next village, where we spent a mon'th in the cure of Araterus his wounds.

Their sanation being perfected, we searched all those places where we had any hopes of meeting with you, the last Countrey being the Cantabrians, where not finding you, and believing that you were returned home, we took shipping at Flaviobriga, with an intent to do the like. Our sailes swelled with a prosperous wind, till we had compassed Spain and were al­most come to those straits that give entrance into the Mediterranean Sea; A re [...]ting gale arising by little and little, the ship notwithstanding the en­deavours of the mariners, far from the entrance of the strait, and with­standing their art and paines bore them into the midst of the Ocean. The skie began to befrown his serene face with spissous clouds, and to muffle himselfe with an unwonted obscurity, darknesse and horror began to em­pale us round. The eyes of heaven continually shot down upon us ful­mineous flames, his voyce, bespeaking our deaths with a tonitruous eccho. Every man had his deaths symptomes in his face, fear having tainted the cheeks of all the Passengers with a pallid hew. The winds break­ing their Hyperborean prison, fomented the waters, which with a kind of [Page 236] imperious greatness swel'd into liquid mounrains, opposing it self to the agil lightning.

Our ship, left to the mercy of the winds, ran far into those traceless paths, ore which Dedalus's wings had never soar'd, where, lost in that new world of waters, it sometimes mounted to the Poles, and by and by sunk to the vally of Stix, between the aqueous rocks, which perpetually threatned with an eternal Tumulation, those poor souls with whom fear and sorrow were continual Concomitants. Driven thus with a perpetual Hurricano for ten dayes together towards the Antartick Pole, we found the Sun almost in our Zenith, which penetrating us with its ardo [...], made us know the intolera­ble heats of those Climat [...]s. The storm now tired with assaulting us, or else giving a trace to our almost quite-spent Barque, abated: and heaven unfrowning his face, seemed to smile on our miseries. There were no gods left unthank'd for this serenity, and being reviv'd from that death Dispair had cast them into, they fell to mending the tackle which had been shaken by the wind, and to do their endeavours to return out of that incognitous sea.

Bearing for some dayes to the North-East, a youth at last from the summit of the Mast discovered land, which was no small joy to the wea [...]ied Mari­ners, and affrighted Passengers. Having attained to that shore we had seen, we entred a large river, which after many [...]alls from the mountain embo­som'd it self there into the Sea. Clearing the mists of sadness from our eyes, we went on shore, where we found a sufficient shelter against the pene­trating beams of the Sun (falling almost perpendicul [...]r ore our heads) in large and overgrown woods, which were stor'd with the light-heel'd-harts, and branched horn'd stags.

After we had stor'd our ship with Venison, and with the crystal liquor of the river, we left that land, and the Pilot, necessitated to make use of the utmost of his skill, bore towards the West, and being got into the main, we tacked about, setting our prow opposit to the Artick Pole: we had but just then shaken off that fear, which the impetuosity of the last storm [...]d put us into, when the wind saluting us with a whistling noise, made us [...] twas but the Praecursor of his Forces. We soon found by reitera [...]ed [...] that he had given us that truce, that he might overcome us with the mo [...] glory. His forces being augmented from playing with our streamers, he be­gan to toss our ship, and contradict our passage with an impetuosity f [...]r greater than the former. The storm still increasing, made us reassume our [...]e [...]s, and many to deprecate those Deities which in safety they scarce though [...] of, and who they would assoon forget after their dang [...]r▪ This lasted thrice as long as the former, and with an extraordinary swiftness, drove us continu­ally to the South, as if it had purposed to have driven us to the utmost end of the earth. At last the storm ceased, but left us destitute of all kno [...]ledge where we were, we saw nothing but waters, which seemed yet to threaten us, the world seem'd turn'd up side down, for we had lost the sight of the North Hemisphere, and then beheld a new heaven of stars, which before we had never seen. The Sun was North of us, which had like to have deceived the Pilot; for, bearing towards the South, we perceived by the s [...]ars, and new face of the heaven, that we had passed the Equinoxial. We imagined our selves irrecoverably lost, the Pilot professing his art at an end, knew not which way to steer. Sometimes we ran a hundred Leagues one way, then as many another, but espying no land, we had no hopes of returning. To aug­ment our miseries, our provision failed us, our water was spent, and what remained stunk, and was corrupted, so that many in the ship with the ex­tremity of heat, and lack of Victuals, died. Araterus indured these adver­sities with wonderfull patience, and amongst all the imprecations that anguish [Page 237] wrung from the mouths of those distressed people, there was not heard the least murmur fall from his. At last in our greatest distress we espied land to the East of us, which sight was extreamly welcome to us. Having attained the land before we could disembarque, we experienced that the torrid Zone, contra [...]y to the opinion of Poets was inhabited, for upon the shore we saw a [...]embled a great many people which continually wore Sables. The Sun had with its excessive ardour imbu'd their skin with this innate black, wearing no­thing that might hinder the penetration of his beams, so that their Chil­dren were born with the same nigerous hew, their hair crisped▪ and short, seem'd just like wool, their noses flat, and something deformed, their stature mean, but their envie and malice implacable. These people which at first sight seem'd like so many Daemons affrighted those in the ship, who naming the place the land of Devils, would rather have endured the miserie of star­ving, than to expose themselves to the mercy of such Creatures. Araterus wearied of the sea, perswaded them to go on shore without fear, telling them without doubt that those creatures were humane, and of necessity they must perish, or gain some sustenance at their hands. At last he perswaded them to land, which they did, but were oppos'd by those blacks, who at a distance shot at them arrows, the points made sharp, and hardened in the fire (for they had not the use of Iron or Steel, which wounded many, and slew some: But Araterus encouraged them, and with great hazard to his person fell in amongst them, who affrighted at us, and our glittering weapons, with a terrible howling and noise sled from us; some of them we slew, whereby the people of the ship were satisfied, that they were poor, simple, naked people, rejoycing that they were landed, they quenched their thirsts with a river that we found, and stopt their hunger with some wild fowl which we caught, with­out any other cooking, than rosting it against the Sun.

We had but just satisfied our selves with our late caught food, when we perceived coming down the mountains, an innumerable company of Negroes, who being rear'd by those that sled from us, came to repell us out of their Countrey. We sought to retire to our ships, when we perceived their sub­tilty had deprived us of all hopes of escaping, for a whole troop of them getting between us, and the ship oppos'd our passage. I know not by what G [...]nius's good direction it was, but a little before I had brought Araterus's armour out of the ship, which had saved his life in this Exigent. He had hardly buckled it on before we were assaulted at a distance with a cloud of ar­rows, which falling upon his armour rebounded back to the amazement of those that jaculated them. But many of our companions ended their lives in the first brunt, for although they were but slightly wounded, yet those wounds being made with empoysoned arrows, they immediately dyed.

Dispair, oftentimes the mother of great exploits, made our companions fight so vigorously, that they obscured the earth with their dark bodies, and made a kind of a sable and sanguine field. But what avails valour and animo­sity when 'tis over-powered? strength may be mastered by a multitude, and courage made effectless. The power of these Monsters increased, and the more we slew, the stronger they were, by the continual supplies that came. It was a kind of miracle to behold how many lay breathing their last, and slain by so small a company. Indeed they were naked and almost wea­ponless, their chiefest being empoysoned arrows and clubs, to whose tops were made fast a kind of stones of a plumbeous substance, but their numbers were so great, that the weight of their very armes had been enough to have depressed us all to the earth. Our companions slew so many of them, and had bespread the whole face of the field with their carcases, that had you seen them, you would have judged by the Clades, that it had been [Page 238] the depreliation of two great armies. Their strength could not run parallel with their courage; their minds and wills fought, though their armes were no longer able to strike a stroke. They fainted, and were slain, being over­come only by their own courages; and with the heat of Titan, not being ac­customed to that ardor which they there felt. They died, but yet with victo­ry and triumph, thousands lying about them, whose souls they carried in triumph into the neather world. I had almost forgot to tell you Araterus is yet invincible, though he cannot wrest his companions out of the arms of death, he sees them die with regret, oreprest with the number of those me­laneous Aethiopians, this instigates his fury, and causes him to make Stru­ctures of their carcases, and sable rivers of their blood. There was not any surviv'd but Araterus and my self, he being my buckler against their number, receiving their darts upon his armour that did him no hurt, which so amazed those ignorant ones, that they believed him to be invulnerable, and seeing the prodigious strokes that he gave on their defenceless bodies, they did not dare to come within his reach, but assaulted him afar off with their darts and slings. Araterus at last not longer able to endure the intole­rable heat of the Sun, under the burthen of his heavy armour, fainted. They no fooner saw him fall, but with a strange howling noise they came all running towards him. I was fallen upon my knees to have given him breath, being almost distracted at the misery to which we were reduced, yet at last recol­lecting my self I hoped by their ignorance to work our delivery. Assoon as they came, I strove, by pointing up to the heaven, and then towards Ara­terus several times, to impress into them that he was some celestial Deity. They understood my meaning, and with a kind of admiration beheld him, touching his armour, and striking their javelins ends against it. Araterus at last coming to himself, seeing them about him began to struggle, which made them immediatly deprive him of his sword, and holding him, made a shift to bind his hands and feet. Having serv'd me in the same manner, they carried us upon a kind of a Chariot on their shoulders thousands of them fol­lowing us, making most hellish noises. In that manner they carried us two dayes to the Pallace of their King, which stood in a wood, built with mud and timber, after a course manner. After they had waited some time at the gate of the Pallace, we entred a kind of Court in which stood a large Tree, under which on a kind of Throne sat their King naked, having a kind of Diadem made of Ostridge feathers, with a kind of linnen Mantle about his middle. Round about him stood his noble men, who with dejected countenances shew'd the reverence they bore to his Majesty. At his elbow stood one different in habit from all the rest, having a strange kind of fantastick garment, compos'd of all sorts of feathers: his head was shaven, and covered with a cap of the same. This man (as we afterwards understood) was the Oracle of the King, and the high Priest of the Countrey, and to whose Council all adher'd. After the King had with great admiration satisfied himself with the sight of Araterus, and with feel­ing, and trying his darts against his armour, he made many signs to us, which I supposing were to know from whence we came, pointed up to the hea­vens, endeavouring to make them think Araterus a god. The Priest till then stood mute, but seeing the King bow his head to Araterus he fell in­to a fearfull ejulation, and afterwards, as if he were possest, uttered some speeches, which we understood by the signes of the people, and their of­ten nominating their great God, that he made known, we were to be given for food to their great god Arqcebusqez. Interest had possest him, for surely he believed that Araterus being taken for a God, he would have been some detriment to his order. By the signs that were made us, we understood our doome, and wondring what their god might be, we expected our expi­ration [Page 239] with patience. We were presently carried into another spacious Court, compassed about with high poles stuck fast into the ground, and inter­texed with smaller sticks. At the further end of this place was a kind of Tem­ple, it seems the habitation of their God, which shone with gold, and cor­ru [...]cing stones: Right against the entrance of this Temple were we set upon the earth bound, the King retiring to a window that look'd into the place, and the people beholding us through the Poles that encompassed the place. The Priest after a certain ululation, called upon his God to come accept the vi [...]tim he had prepared. By and by we heard a wonderful fibilation, and presently came forth a monstrous Serpent, at whose sight the people fell flat upon the earth, as also the King and all his black Candidates. Arate­rus at the sight of that monster forc'd himself so strongly, that he broke the bands about his arms, and taking forth a dagger that he had under his Cassock, cut those that tied his feet, then presently freeing me, he met that monstrous serpent, and assaying his skin in many places could find no entrance for the point of his dagger. The Serpent with his anguinious tail beat him down several times, which made me fear that he would have yielded his life between the jaws of that Hydra. After a long resistance he found the belly of the Monster passible, for plunging his dagger several times into it, he let out a stream of veneniserous and stinking blood, with the life of that mon­strous Serpent and false Deity.

The King, Priest and People all amazed at the puissance of Araterus and the death of their God, expressed it by their countenances and posture. At last the oraculous Priest seeming to be possest, howled forth certain words which we know by the effects were to perswade the King that Araterus was the chiefest Deity in the celestial orb, and that I was an under god who had left the heavens to attend him, and that he should place us in the Temple, and cause us to be worshiped in the place of that ancient Deity which they had worshipped so long. The King that never contradicted what he said, came into the place to us, and falling on his knees before Araterus, with e­rected hands, which through our ignorance of their language, we could not understand. The Priest doing the like (whether out of ignorance or subtil­ty, I know not) engaged all the people to a profound devotion. I perswad­ed Araterus not to contradict them, telling him it was the only way for us to escape them. He permitted it with a heart that attributed nothing of it to himself, and did but accept it for his own safety. After many ceremonies they conducted us to the Temple, where having seated us in an high seat, placeing me at the seet of Araterus, there entred many under-Priests deck'd after the same manner as their High-priest, with censers in their hands.

These fuming us with certain sweet odors, of a magical operation, so stupefied us, that we fell both asleep. In the mean time according to the direction of the high Priest, with a kind of hoop made of a fishes bone, and bound behind with cords, they fastened us both to the backs of our seats, and our armes they pinion'd in such a manner above the elbows, that we could make no other use of them, but to feed our selves. In this manner we found our selves when we awaked, the Temple clear, and abundance of sacrifices slain, and offered to us on Tables made after a curious fashion, and almost like an Altar. Araterus laugh'd, and was angry at the same time, to see, that whilst they went about to make us gods, they made us less then men. This Priest (said he) is more subtile then all the Nation besides, the King, his Candidates and people believe us to be gods, and with the zeal of blind devotion, cordially offer to us their prayers and sacrificial rites: But this subtle Imposter knows us to be men, and seeing that I have slain his Arqcebusqes which was the maintainer of his greatness, he most subtilly punishes us, and by the punishment conserves his former greatness and glory. O blind people! whereby is manifest that ignorance is the mo­ther [Page 240] of your devotion: What a sad thing is it that Religion should be made the decoy of Politicians! see but with what awe this impostor governs the whole kingdom, under the specious name of Religion, and by it makes those of great capacities to condescend to things below sence and reason. He made them first worship a Serpent of a stupendious greatness, a very Monster or devil, and now for all they see it was mortal, and therefore no Deity, yet are they brought to another devotion as ridiculous, to adore us men. This power hath Religion, when men deprive themselves of the eyes of Reason, and following the tradition of others, believe the dictates of such impostors without examining the verity of them. Whilst he was speaking thus, there entred the Temple four Priests, who with two large chargers, and two vessels of water kneeled before us, and having mumbled I know not what prayers, they placed the chargers filled with the best diet their Countrey afforded, and the water close by us, and so departing, left us to satisfie our appetites; which we were fain to do, to keep our selves from starving. Three weeks space were we thus deified, in which time we were often almost choak'd with their fumigations, and sacri­ficed to by those Priests that were ordained to attend us. Araterus used all the signs he could to prohibit them, but he could not make them understand, and every time he did but wag himself, the rustling of his armour made them in presence fall prostrate to the earth, and with grievous ejulations de­sired this Mars-like God to be quiet, and pacified with those oblations they should offer, so that his prohibitions still begot new sacrifies. After three weeks we heard two Priests discoursing together in the Aegyptian lan­guage, Araterus wondring to hear them speak that language, and having learn'd it in his youth, lisned to their talk. What (said one) do you believe these to be gods? I believe them as much gods as the former was (saith the other) for that steel case that one wears, if you remember when we tra­velled into Aegypt, we saw abundance of the Romans wear such. 'Tis true (replyed the other) I alwayes believed them men. But you must believe them to be gods (said the other) though you do know that they are men, for thereby our greatness is maintained, for should the people think they are men, we are utterly undone, and it was the subtilty of our High Priest to salve his loss of Arqcebusqez with deifying these strangers. Ara­terus no longer able to retain himself, spake to them in that language, and with words so prevalent, that he won them to him, and made them pro­mise him to release him, and to shift him out of the Countrey. Araterus having asked them how they came to speak that language, they told him that being Natives of that Countrey, they were then prisoners by a mighty King their Neighbour, who sold them amongst many others to one who carried them into Lybia, from whence escaping by flight, they went into Aegypt, where they learned the language and manners of the Countrey, which done, they returned on Cammels, after some whole years travel in­to their own Countrey, where relating the strange things they had seen in their travels to the High Priest, he presently conferred on them the or­der of Priest-hood, accounting it a crime for any to be knowing, but those that attended on the Altars of the gods, charging them on pain of death not to discover what they had seen to any other, seeing that the people would become disobedient, when they ceased to be ignorant. And least they should invite others to the like travels, who in time might induce the manners and customes of other Nations he charged them to forget the lan­guage they had learned, and that ever they had travelled out of their own Countrey. They said that they had obey'd his Commands in every thing, but that, for being loath to forget what they attained to, with the hazard of their lives, they sometimes discoursed together in that language, though in great secresie and fear. After they had promised again in few dayes to [Page 241] released us they parted from us, and left him very joyfull that he should be so soon [...]i [...] of his God-ship, and you must thinke I was no lesse joyfull than he when I understood it from him. These blacks not varying from their word, come the next night, and giving Araterus his sword, which they had stole from the high Priest, unloosed us and gave us our liberty. All sower of us leaving the place sled allnight, and never rested till we were out of the Kingdom. The blacks being our guides we travelled thorow vast hot countreys, sometimes or'e mountaines, sometimes thorow for­rests, deserts and sandy plaines, then over great lakes, not without danger of drowning, or of being killed by the inhabitants, who were liker beasts than men, or of being devoured by wild beasts, and immense serpents. After we had overcome all our difficulties passing many strange nations, we came to a sea that ran far into the globe. There we embarqued, deter­mining to have return'd by the Erythrian sea, but being driven beyond the mouth of it with impetuous stormes, we at last arrived in the Persian gulse.

Having for many weeks incurred the dangers of the Sea, and daunced o­ver those vast plaines of waters, we at last landed, to refresh our bodies with the allevaments of the earth. Our pennigerous guides were past their own knowledge and as ignorant of those places we had attained to as our selves. Those people had not such sable skinns, nor was the Sun of that force as in the climate of the blacks, but their bodies generally mean of stature, and of a swarth complexion, had something of handsomnesse and beauty. A­raterus although he longed to have returned into his own countrey, and though our travells (as all others) were accompanied with danger and peril, yet novelties breeding a desire, and curiosity, he past into the country, fin­ding a wonderfull pleasure in seeing the variety of places, people, conditions, manners, and climates. Spatiating for some few dayes that region, we past a large extent of land, which like a tongue ran far into the sea. Be­ing arrived on the other side we espied another large sea, into which A­raterus would needs commit himself, resolving now to visit the utmost li­mits of the earth. Indeed we stayed very little in a place, but were con­tinually peregrines, not knowing which way to return home. Those seas were very dangerous at that time of the year in which we sailed them, and in few dayes after our imbarquement we were incountered by so violent a storme, that 'tis past the skill of a better capacity than mine to describe it. The end of it was our shipwrack almost within sight of land. The blacks being almost halfe fishes, and most expert swimmers, scorned those helps we were glad to make use of, and trusting to the strength of their armes, and skill in swimming advanced before us towards the shore. The gods (I believe) angry at their p [...]esumption, tooke away their soules out of those darke Lanthornes, the one before he was out of our sight was devoured by some great fish, the other we afterwards found dead, his braines having been beaten out against the rock, and his body cast upon the sand, where we at last were thrown by the beating of the waves with those pieces of the ship on which we saved our lives. Having returned thanks to the Gods for our preservation, and having bewailed our faithfull blacks, and buried him we found dead on the sand, we went into the country, to know into what place this dire chance had cast us. We presently found that we were in a rich soile, fruitfull, pleasant, stored with all things fit for life, and ornament, not so hot as those countreys we had passed, but we perceived we were very near the Orient.

The Land was full of Cityes of a vast greatnesse, and Towns so stupendi­ous that they exceeded the quantity of our ordinary Cityes, besides very [Page 242] popolous, and well stored with delicate woods: and watered with abun­dance of rivers. The people were extreamly civill, courteous to strangers, witty, pleasant, and very well favoured. We found nothing of barbarisme or rudenesse there, but all things in a kinde of Harmony, and great po­litennesse. Araterus was extreamly taken with the countrey, being one of the pleasantest he had ever entred. You are not to doubt (said I to him) but that the prophesie of the Druidae will be fulfilled, seeing that the Gods with miracles have effected thus much of it, we are now in the Orient, from whence it seems we are like never to return, but 'tis no great matter, seeing that you shall possesse so rich, pleasant and fertill a Kingdom, which will be great inducements for your forgetting your native countrey, especi­ally when you shall be joyned to so sublime a beauty as the prediction spe­cified. I am not (replyed he) so much in Love with my country, as that I cannot live any where else, if that I see the will, and providence of the Gods so ordering it; but yet were it now in my election, I should rather choose my little estate in my native country, than to en­joy the greatest monarchy here. But yet I shall cede to the will of the Gods, let them prepare what they will for me.

And indeed I do not flatter my selfe with the accomplishment of the Praediction, although these occurrences might induce me to believe its verity. We had travelled some few dayes from the sea side, and entertain­ing our selves with such like discourses we came to the side of a very large river, which rowling down with liquid-silvered waves, made us suppose it a­nother sea, but that the clearnesse and freshnesse of the water contradict­ed that opinion. We travelled up this river with wonderful delight, viewing the ships and boats that continually sported upon its surface, till we met one of the country, who by the signes we made him to know the name of the ri­ver, told us 'twas called Ganges. This man, seeing we were strangers lokt upon us very wishly, and finding I know not what pleasing air in the face of Aratreus, he caused us to go with him to his house which was fi­tuate hard by the river, and encompassed with a wood, 'twas built flat on the top, after the fashion of the countrey four square, and of an indiffe­rent bignesse. 'Tis impossible for you to imagin, with what affection and love this man entertained Araterus, and there wanted nothing but language to make their friendship compleat, and though 'twas in a mute language that he expressed himself, yet love was perspicuously, seen in every sign and gesture. In few dayes Araterus had so won upon our entertainer with his sweet carriage that he would not permit him to depart, but as we un­derstood him by the signes he made, desired us to continue with him, and learn the language of the country. Araterus being well content, returned him by signes, that he would obey him, and give him thankes, and service for his kindnesses. Being setled in this resolution, we spun out the thread of two yeares, continually obliged to this man for his manifold courtesies and favours. In this time we had both of us perfectly attain'd the language, which sounded almost like the Arabick, and our enter­tainer accounted himself sufficiently recompensed with the admirable dis­courses he heard from Araterus, and the recitall of his life and fortune. A­raterus having often requested him to let him understand the condition of the country which he was in, one day as we were in a house of pleasure on the fa­mous Ganges, he acquitted himself thus:

This country (said he) wherein you are, is one of the fairest, richest, and pleasantest that the glorious star of Day sees in his perpetuall course. If the Gods grant that you reside amongst us, you will experience this ve­rity, and say that 'tis worthy of all Eulogies and commendations. I am perswaded that in the small time that you have been here, and in the like [Page 243] experience you have had of us, that you cannot but see we are no Scythians or Hyperborean inhabitants, but that there is a certaine politenesse in our words and actions. If it were handsome for me to praise my own countrey I might expatiate, in the collaudation of its site, fertility, delectableness, continuall verdure, wholesomenesse, richnesse and populosity. Besides in the conditions of the people, their formofity, gentle nature, virtuous acti­ons, and warlike spirit. And lastly of its government and tranquillity, in which it hath exceeded all the Kingdoms of the East. But this a little time and experience will manifest to you, better and fuller, than the best of Rhetorick can. I believe I shall give you some satisfaction, to tell you briefly in what posture, at present we stand. This Kingdome hath by a peculiar pro­vidence for these three hundred yeares been most commonly governed by Queens, neither sex being debarred from the regency, and by our lawes the first partus of his or her Majesty that reignes, is evermore proclaimed succes­sour to the crown, whether it be male or female, and although many males afterwards be born, yet the first succeeds although it be a female. The reason for this is, because we believe that the Gods haveing the sole dispo­sing of the conception and forming of the Embrio will create it according to their sole wills and pleasures from them as disposed and ordered by them to govern and rule us. But if the eldest dye then the next succeeds according to the order of their birth.

If we have a good Prince we rejoyce and thank the Gods for him, and if we have an evill Prince, believing it to be the wills, and pleasure of the Gods to have him so, we yield to him without murmuring. And if it may be accounted a blessing to a Kingdome, as sure it is to have good and wise Princes, we have been extreamly happy, and as I have said, though we have not had but two Kings this three hundred yeares, yet we have en­joyed all those blessings under the female sex that we could have expected from the other; the Gods having poured upon them all the influences of the regall and Majestick starres, and inspired them with prudence, and Magnanimity. But least we should receive any detriment by the mariage of our Queens 'twas so ordained that they ought to have the consent of their council, which consists of the chiefest men in the Kingdome, before they may contract themselves to any, but yet this good law hath not alwayes been kept, and many have married without putting it to the councill. In­deed I liked it so well that I would have made it to have reached Kings as well as Queens, and I urging it, when the father of our raigning Queen was to be married, being very young, and fearing least he should choose one not Qualified for the place, and considering that we were in little leffe danger by the marriage of our King as well of our Queens, when they permit them by their affection to incroach up­on their authority: I say urging it that the King might be brought under that Law, I gained his disfavour, and being ever after looked upon as one repugnant to his interests I was ejected from being one of the councill. I tooke it patiently enough, and retireing from the court have ever since en­joyed the sweets of a private life, without the least aspiring to my former dignity. He dying about fewer yeares since left his daughter (and his only) Amarillis to succeed, a princesse I confesse filled with the divinity of the Gods, who beareth the perfect image of themselves. So glorious and transcen­dent a beauty our Eastern world could never yet glory of, she is beyond compare both in the goods of body and of minde, she is filled with all the rarest endowments the Gods, and nature could infuse, and though she hath scarce compleated the fifth lustre of her age, she hath exhausted all the learning of the Gymnosophists and Brachmans. We have lived hitherto extreamly happy under her raign, she allwayes mixing lenity and prudence [Page 244] with all her actions, but now some evill Daemon disturbing our quietude hath set the whole Kingdome into a combustion. We are invironed with many great and formidable Princes on all sides, with whom we have continu­ally kept a very good correspondence, and maintained our interests with poli­cy. Most of them, seeing the beauty of Amarillis our Queen so transcen­dent, have desired the possession of her either for themselves or their sons: but she shewing her selfe averse from marriage, by her gentlenesse and good behaviour hath pacified most of them. On the East side of us is the most mighty Kingdome Sinana, the greatest and largest in the whole world, being divided into fifteen provinces, every one of which is as big as most Kingdomes in the world, the one side of it butteth upon ours and runneth all along to the great gulfe of Bengan. It is incredible if I should tell you of the number and vastnesse, of their Cityes and towns, and of the innume­rable company of people that inhabit them. Those are the subtillest people in the world, but indeed they a [...]e pufillanimous, and fearfull cowards, as the weapons with which they annoy us may well declare. They seldome dare to incounter us with weapons like to ours, wherein m [...]nhood and strength doth consist in the using, but with a strange diabolicall engine murther us at a distance, and with which the most saint hearted coward may do as great execution as the most valiant man, these engines are made of Iron and steel mixed, about four foot or more long, hollow through­out, into which they put a composition framed in the stygian Kingdome, and I believe taught them by some of Tl [...]to's servants; 'tis of a sulphurious matter, to which they give fire with reeds twisted together, at a little hole made on purpose at the higher end of the engine. After they have put in their hellish powder, they ramme down upon it certain stones of a plumbeous substance, or peices of Iron, or such like matter, then colli­mating it at us they give fire it with their reed, which sends the globulus's, with such a lightning flash & thunder clap, that they strike us often dead above have of the same sort so big that they drew them on hundred pace distance. Be­sides those they carrs, with which they batter batter down our towns, and slaughter above a hundred of us at a time. With this sort of weapons they have made themselves so formidable that himself King of Kings, governour of the whole Earth, and son to the Sun. They are feared of the whole, east who otherwise are the veriest cowards in the world. Those that make the engines, and that black dust which causes the slaughter, they keep con­tinually prisoners in a large house made on purpose, containing about ten thousand of them, not suffering them to passe beyond the limits of the wals, lest they might teach any other nation the use of them. And though that we have gained many of the engines from them; yet, not knowing how to make the composition, they are inservicable to us, so that we have slung those murtherers (for so we call them) into the rivers, not knowing what use to make of them. The King of this potent and formidable people, calls call the Sun their genitor because he arises at the utmost limits of his Kingdom.

The Son of him that now reignes in this Kingdome of Sinana was late­ly at the court of our Queen, where he stiled himself her servant, in hopes to possesse her, but going away not long since in great discontent, hath sent a Herauld that Proclaimed warrs against us, threatning the utter ruin and subversion of us all, unlesse the Queen yielded her selfe to his demands: we dayly here out of Sinnana of the great preperation that he makes to invade us, which enforces our Queen to raise her forces for her defence, resolving to withstand his fury, and defend her selfe a­gainst his injuries: So that peace is now leaving the stage which she hath Kept so long, and Mars is coming to act a new and bloody scene.

Cleoputulus (so was our Entertainer called) thus ended, suscitating a desire in Araterus, by this relation of the Wars, to go and present himself [Page 245] to the Queen, and desired to be listed amongst the number of her Soldiers. He made his Hospitator acquainted with his mind, who immediatly commending his intentions, strengthned his desire, and profered him any thing that might further his intentions Araterus after he had resolved upon it, and had cloth'd himself after the manner of the Countrey in loose thin garments, he took his leave of the kind and generous Cleopotulus, and according to his directions took the way towards Sinda the chief City in that kingdome of Sornalea, which stood at the ingulfing of a very long river into the sea of Bengan, and which sprung from a lake amongst those mountains which serve for an impregnable Mure against the Tartars incursion into Sinana. In this famous City Queen Amarillis kept her Court, and to which after a few weeks travel we arrived. All the Cities that ever we had seen before was nothing to this, both for the extent, fairness and pleasant­ness of it. Should I tell you the bigness of it, you would think it incredi­ble, and believe that I fabulate, but those that are any thing acquainted with the buildings of the East, will not so much wonder at it, we entred it when the Sun had scarce ran two hours of his diurnal course, and before we could attain the Pallace which stood in the midst of the city, and though we went on horse back, he had past as many from the Meridian. It was so populous that you would have thought all the people of the Kingdom had met there as at a fare. The houses were extream fair and well built, being most of stone. Round that large City ran a wall with battlements and tow­ers with about a hundred gates, so strong, that it rendred it impregnable on the one side, as it was washt with the river, and the South side butted towards a kind of sine, which breaking forth of the gulf came thorow the City to the Pal­lace walls, on which continually floted thirty thousand boats. And though there were so many people, and that it was so vast a City, yet every thing seemed so decent, & in so good order, that in all that ever we had seen there was no thing like it. At that instant one of Euripedes servants came to give him notice that their dinner waited on them, which made Meador stop, and give liberty to Euripedes to incite his guests to accept of that small repast which his Grot could afford. Every one shewing the pleasure they received in Meadors relation could hardly be perswaded to spare so much time, but at last fol­lowing Euripedes they entred another room, which they found furnished so deftly, that it expressed, he had been one of great estate. After the handsome excuse of Euripedes for his mean accommodations for so illustrious persons, they fell to their repast, which they soon finished, having a great desire to hear the conclusion of Meadors relation. After they had dined, they return'd to the same place where they were before, and being seated Meador knowing their desires, directing his speech as he did before to Euripedes, he thus proceeded in his rela­tion. Having glutted our eyes with beholding the variety of Objects, as we passed thorow the City, we came at last to the Pallace about the time I have mentioned. Having provided for our horses in those houses for entertainment, we went to view the Pallace, which we found a­greeable with the rest of the City, full of state, and the structure mixed with strength and beauty. It was mounted upon a little rising hill, which made it shew to the City as the head to the body, both for ornament and command. It was not only the head of the City, but of the whole kingdom at that time, for in it sat her Majesty with her great Councel to de­termine concerning those things which the necessity of their affairs made them to resolve upon. Having viewed the external part of it, Araterus somewhat boldly for a stranger, ascended a pair of staires which led us into divers stately Halls; passing many of them we at last had lost our selves, and knew not which way to return, at last trying every turning and en­trey, we descended a pair of staires, which brought us into a very large garden, in which were near an hundred Partizans. At the farther end of this gar­den was the Councel Chamber; in which the Queen and her Council [Page 246] then was, these Partizens being their common guard. Ignorance often causes boldness, for not knowing the custome of the Countrey we entred the garden, which it seems was present death for any to do, whilst the Council sat, without the Certificate of the High-Priest, to shew their urgent oc­casions.

The Partizans presently flocking about us, asked us for our Certificates, but our looks demonstring to them that we were ignorant of what they meant, they streight-way cryed out Traitors, and Spies, and collimating their Javelins at us, began to make us know into what error we had run. Araterus would fain have had them understand that ignorance an I fortune had brought him ro that place, but their noise and eagerness of endeavour­ing to deprive us of our lives, took away the audition of his words, and made him see that if his sword could not prove more effecacious th [...]n his speech, he was there to finish his life after his travels and miseries. We both drew for our defence, and did what ever could be expected from men hemmed in on every side with death-threatning weapons. We had both received many wounds, but for every wound Araterus gave a death: and for every drop of blood, he shed whole pools of theirs, and did things through desperateness, that were ever after esteemed Miracles. Valour must have at last given place to number, and life to death, if we had not been immediatly rescued. The noise, that proceeded from this En­counter was heard amongst the Councel, which at the first approach im­bued them all with fears of treachery and complottings. All desired to know the cause of what they heard, but every one was affraid to leave his seat, least at their first peeping forth of doers they should meet with the instru­ments of death, many of them knowing what belonged to a gown, but very little to a sword; they could order, but not act. At last Peomontile uncle to the Queen, and one in whom Mars and Mercury made a pleasing con­junction, left his seat, and entring the garden, found us both at the last exigent. When he saw the inequality of our fight, although he knew they might justly put us to death for entring that place, yet he com­manded them to leave us. His authority made them re [...]ire, and I am per­swaded some of them gladly enough, being sufficiently satisfied in what A­raterus could do. He beheld what Araterus had done with a countenance that betrayed his astonishment, at last demanding our design in entring the place contrary to the custome and Law of the Countrey, Araterus told him by what accident he was conducted to the place, his ignorance of their customes, and his being a stranger in the place, which was easily ve­rified by our faces which carried more hair then twenty of those Eastern peo­ple, (the Sun contracting the pores of the body, and hindring the excer­nation of those pilous excrements) with our not attaining to the perfect pronunciation of their language. Peomontile told him, it was requisit, if he desired his life, that he cast by his weapons, and yield himself, and that before they arose, they would send for him, to give an account of this action to the Queen, and that if he could prove his integrity as he said, or that it was done through ignorance without any design, he made no que­stion, but that he should gain his pardon, but if otherwise that he were guilty of any design he was to expect what the Laws and Justice of the land in­flicted. Araterus slung by his sword, and offered his hands to be bound, I doing the like, we were carried into a room close by the Councel, where we expected their leasure. Peomontile returning gave them a brief account of what he had done, desiring we might be brought before them before they broke up, to answer what we had done. Every one resetling those disturbances fear had exsuscitated in their breasts, they proceeded upon those weighty de­bates on which they entred before this disturbance. And because that af­terwards Araterus was made acquainted with the result of the Council, and of [Page 247] what pass [...]d at that time therein, it will not be amiss for me in this place to give you the knowledge of it too.

The approaching Wars had necessitated the Queen to call her Councel; consisting of the chiefest of the kingdome, and those whom experience had made prudent, and knowing, that nothing might be undertaken without the consent of the whole, or at least Major part. But how often is it! that Councels are called, out of meer formality and custome, not to council, but to confirm the resolutions of their Princes. Private passion and interest (especially in women) is very dangerous, for being setled in an inflexible b [...]east, although the most prudent Council is given, if it contradict their humours, it must cede to their follies. I speake not this of Amarillis, be­cause her resolutions had a good effect, and so all faults were smothered in the end, but in this regard it reaches her. She, as most Princes do, had first consulted with her own thoughts, or with her nearest favourites, who most commonly apply their verdicts to the inclinations and humours of the Prince, and out of that had framed her resolutions and private decrees. She then convocated her Councel, to which she came, not with a heart susceptible of impressions, or with resolutions to follow their dictates if they contradicted hers, but with desire and passion to have them confirm (and conform to) her desires. I will not say but that the Queens resolutions were reasonable, and it may be better than the opinion of her Councel, I will not say but that she might be as clear-sighted as they, or that they might not be byassed by private interest as well as she. But after she had told them the occasion of their Convocation, and had made known how that she would not undertake any thing without their Council and appro­bation, with applauding their wisdomes, and tryed experience, the question was proposed amongst them. Whether it were better to resist the Prince of Sinana, or the Queen to yield to the marriage he desired? This was suf­ficiently scann'd and debated for many dayes, but that day on which we arrived there, was to put a period to it. The Queen was utterly against mar­rying the Prince of Sinana, but she found her Council divided, and the major part against her. But indeed those that opposed her, were many of them suspected of bribery, having been too much acquainted with that Prince, others spake out of a spirit of fear and pusillanimity, and others by­assed by their own interests, their Estates lying in the way, and most ex­posed to the ruin of wars: so that the major part was against the incli­nations of the Queen, but the melior part was for her, amongst the rest was her uncle Peomontile with some of the gravest, and most esteemed heads. The reasons of the adverse part in brief were these. They first ex­patiated themselves upon the felicity of peace and tranquillity, shewing how happily they had lived for so many years, not being disturbed by wars, they illustrated this by shewing at large the incommodities of War, which were the spending their Treasure, their goods, their houses, the loss of her sub­jects, the impoverishing their land, bringing death, scarcity and famine, the stopping of Trade and Manufacture, spoiling of Cities, sacking of Townes, demolishing of houses and Castles, and finally bringing all to ruin and confusion: Then passing to particulars, they exhibited what manner of Prince they had to deal with, his patience, the number of his Armies, his Weapons, Prowess, and every thing that might make him formidable. Then they shewed, that though they were numerous in people, yet not be­ing accustomed in War, but having injoyed a long tranquillity, they would be ignorant in their weapons, and not able to withstand them. That all this trouble, dan [...]er, loss and destruction might easily be prevented by the marriage of the Queen, that it was not dishonourable for her, he being the greatest Potentate on the earth, but that it would be for her greater glory, [Page 248] and her kingdome and peoples safety. The Queen seeing most of her Coun­cil adhered to this, and fearing that her party would not have been able to have withstood their reasons, shewed that she was a woman, for being stimulated with their pressing her to marry the Prince, she stood up, and not being able to smother her discontent, told them, that for her part she had been alwayes willing to give her people content, though it were against her private inclinations, but in this she was not able to yield to them. That she hoped they would not force her to marry one whom by no means she could affect. That if they feared these wars that so much threatned them, and that if they were perswaded they would be the ruin of the king­dom, and people, seeing they were weary of her government, she would rather resign up the interest she had to the Crown, and retire her self to a private life, whereby she should both satisfie her self, and not be com­pel'd to marry a Prince contrary to her inclinations, and take away all occasions of War from them, in leaving the Government and Kingdome for their sakes.

This speech of the Queen troubled the adverse party extreamly, but the other party having reasons enough on their side told them by the mouth of Peomon­tile, That they were very sensible o [...] the commodities and felicities of Peace, and of the happiness they had enjoyed under it, and also that they were not ignorant of all those discommodities, ruinations and subversions that are incident to War. That they should consider that Peace was maintained by War, and that War was the mother of peace. That there was no War more just, than that which was to maintain their liberty: that the liberty of their Queen, was the liberty of themselves; and that her captivity would prove their destruction. That although War was terrible, yet not being to be avoid­ed, the end would be pleasing. That they were not altogether to consider the potency of their enemy, but to expect the adjuvation of the gods, who consider the justness of the cause, and who effect great things by weak in­struments. That for that end, and no other, but to defend themselves, were they furnished with weapons; and if that any made use of them to offend their Neighbour wrongfully and unjusty, that for the most part they fell by them, notwithstanding their potence and greatness. That the war was unjust, is manifest, they but defended themselves from the violence of a superbous enemy, who it may be made the marriage of the Queen but a pretence to usurp their Crown. That although the soldiers being unaccu­stomed to their weapons, they hoped the example of their Leaders, and the witness of their cause would infuse such animosity into them, that they should have no need to complain of their defects. That they should very willingly hearken to them, (having the same lives, liberties and estates as they to be hazarded in the wars) could they propose any way, (with safety to their honours, and without detriment to the kingdome) to divert the approaching storm, and to stop the effusion of blood by the Wars. That what they already had proposed was a cure far more dangerous than the wound, and from which they could expect no other than their utter and inevitable sub­version. That 'twas the poorest of Polices to avoid a War by so dange­rous a peace, which although it might be honourable for the Queen, would prove very unhappy fot the Kingdome. That both reason and example might teach them, that an Heir and Heiresse of a Kingdom made no happy conjunction for their people, the one being necessitated to obey the Laws and Rules of the other, and of a free state and kingdome, to become a Province and subjected. That if their Queen maried the Prince of Sina­na, 'twould bring them into more hazard and danger than the wars could effect, that they must expect to have their Kingdome translated into a Pro­vince, subjugated to strangers, ruled by Vice-roys allied to the Prince, that [Page 249] they must be subject to their Lawes, observe their Ceremonies, and loose both name and nature in that of Sinana. That they could not expect any help from the gracious influence of the Queen, she being in another Countrey, ignorant of their miseries, and it may be, if knowing them, may not have power to help them. That it may be, the Prince of Sina­na having through this pretence sufficiently strengthned their kingdome for his best advantage, and sufficiently subjugated them, may then expose their Queen to scorn and ignominy, they not believing he could love her, whose subjects he seeks to invade unjusty, and to gain her forceably. Lastly, That it were better for the Queen to marry any younger Prince whom she might invest with her Crown, or else as they have done heretofore to pre­vent the dangers that ensue exotick mariages, marie one of her Subjects, which is nothing dishonourable, being maintained by frequent examples, and so their Lawes will not be changed, their rites altered, nor their cu­stomes subverted, but their kingdome would continue in its pristine con­dition, florishing and happy. And that (to conclude) if they were not able to see the percipice of that marriage, with the Tyranny, bondage and slavery they are like to undergo by it, but persisted still in their opinions, for their part they had done their duties in discharging their consciences, and that knowing the affection of the people to the Queen, they were resolved to live and die in her defence, and to run the common hazard of the kingdome: That if there were any there that would not, they might sit still and shew their disaffection to the common good, whilst they rose to proffer their service to their Queen and Countrey. With that Peomontile with all that party arising up, offer'd their service to the Queen, which the others seeing, did the like, some through fear imagining some design in Peomontile's behaviour, and others convinced by the reasons they had heard. Thus the Council ended to the great satisfaction of the Queen, who it seems had resolved to have run any hazard, rather then to have married the Prince of Sinana.

The Council being ready to break up, Peomontile desired the Queen that we might be brought before them. Presently we were had in by an officer that attended them. The room where they sat, was more stately than any we had seen, but the gravity and order of the Senators, caused a kind of reverence and awe in the beholders. But the place was more illuminated, by the beauty and Majesty of the Queen, which if the one rendered the place awefull, the other rendered his sacred and adoreable. Beauty was hemmed in with Majesty, and both the one and the other was incom­parable, there being a Kinde of pleasing severity mixed in every act and gesture. In all those peregrinations which I have for so many years undergone, I could never meet till this hour any beauty that could furpass, or equalize that which our eyes then beheld. But now indeed I must confess, my eyes beheld in this sequestred grote those beauties that eclipse the splendor and pulcritude of that Eastern Star, and make me justly pass by those praises I had intended for her. Indeed both hers and all the worlds must cede to those which now illuminate and glorifie your Grote.

This raised the tincture in the faces of the two Princesses, but being loth to disturbe him in his discourse, they permited silence to preside ore their lips, and heard him continue thus. Assoon as we were entred, I cast my eyes upon Araterus, and found that the beams of beauty and Majesty had dazled his eyes and understanding. Being surprized with an object so ravishing, he was amazed, and stood in the posture of a Criminal. His eyes fixed upon the Queen, lost themselves in their intuition. His colour vicissively changing, would have made the Spectators believe that he had been [Page 250] guilty of some ill intent, or that 'twas through fear and pusillanimity. He was the Queens prisoner, and before he went out of the place, he was more re­ally so: For Love, as if he had ment to make a kind of Triumph in his sub­jugation, sat inthron'd and inviron'd with all kind of advantages in that place. He stood a long time receiving those darts that were continually ejaculated from the two luminous orbs of Amarillis, by that god who ex­tendeth his dominion from the rising of glorious Titan, to his immergency in the occidental waves, and who leaveth no part of the world free from his subju­gation and tyranny. The Queen with no less fixed looks beheld Araterus, and it seems receiving reciprocal wounds from his looks and actions. Ara­terus as you know, was every way handsome, and in his face especially, no despicable Throne for love. They were mute all this while, though their eyes spake an occult and magical language, having indeed sometimes as great a power in love, as the most rhetorical and pleasing tongues. At last Araterus recollecting himself, dissipated that kind of amazedness, and conforming his body to his speech, endeavoured with all the ski [...]l he had gained in that language to express himself. Madam (said he) my silence (it may be) might cause you to suspect me, and my stupidity render me as guilty of noxious intentions: 'twas nothing but the daz [...]ing lustre of your Majesty, with the gravity of these Senators, not being used to behold such state and glory, that at first sight took away the power of speech, and contracting all other faculties, sent their powers to assist my sight in an in­tuition so pleasing and glorious. I am a stranger, Madam! as you may well perceive by divers marks that make me different from your Nation: And I was (as I may say) of another world, but being upon the most caprichious element, hurried on by the blasts of fortune and of storms, I was cast on unknown Countryes, through which I have travelled with danger and peril enough, and at last being shipwrack'd on your Coasts, I found an entertain­ment by one of your Subjects, as generous as good, till I had gain'd this smattering in your language which you hear; who telling me the occasion of your approaching Wars, he inspired me with a desire to serve you. For this end I left his habitation, with an intent to make you a proffer of my service. Having devoted my self to you, and entring the City this day, being utterly ignorant of your Customes and Lawes, and without any other de­sign than of viewing the ornaments of your Pallace, I have through my bold­ness and ignorance incurred a danger, and I fear your Majesties displeasure. But I hope my ignorance will exuscitate your clemency, and gain a pardon for him who hath already devoted his life to your service, and who desires no longer to live, than that his life may be serviceable to your Ma­jesty.

He had a very favourable audience of the Queen, there being something of charms both in his tongue and face: we were caused to withdraw, and after a lit­tle while being brought in again, Peomontile told Araterus, that the Queen according to her wonted Clemency, and natural inclinations of mercy to strangers, and to those who were not wilfull Criminals; had pardoned him his temerity, and did accept of the service he profer'd. That he should at­tend her after the Council was risen, to receive those testimonies of her li­berality which she was accustomed to give to those, that so freely desired to serve her. Araterus bowing to the ground, with a very good grace gave her thanks for her favours, which purchased him the kissing of her Robe, a favour but seldome shewed, they accounting all that belong to their Princes sacred. Being departed, we went to our lodging, having our liberty by or­der from the Queen. I perceived a great deal of trouble in the face of Araterus, and discomposure in his looks. Our long conversation and mu­tual miseries had made me very bold with him, so that I asked him the rea­son [Page 251] of it. He was unwilling at first to tell me, accounting the cause ridicu­lous, but at last he told me it proceeded from the beauty and splendor which accompanied the Queen, and that he had endeavoured to allay those emo­tions, knowing the disproportion between them, but the more that he essaied it, the more violent they grew. He confessed he had imbib'd that which be­gan to disturb his repose, and which began to make him feel the inquietudes of those that love. But accounting his most insulse and vain, he was an­gry with himself for entertaining those motions, though he knew not how to shun them. I encouraged him in them, and told him, that 'twas so decreed by heaven, and that he was not to doubt it, seeing that part of the prediction of Baercellizeg was fulfilled in our being brought to the utmost li­mits of the East: That he had undergone the worst of the prediction, and that he should not fear to see the best part also fulfilled. I told him that this was the rich kingdom he shou [...]d possess, Amarillis the fair and wise Princess he should enjoy. That he might assure himself of her, and there­fore he should entertain those penetrations of love with joy and content: Indeed whatever he said, the thoughts of this Prophesie conduced much to his quie [...]ude, inspiring him with hopes, and banishing that despair, the disproportion would have injected, much supported his as [...]iring Love.

The Queen (as we afterwards understood) having felt those violencies and emotions which were raised in her breast at the sight of her prisoner, and not being accustomed to the like, wondred from whence they should proceed. She could not imagine at first, that it should be Love, having to vigorously withstood all the Charms of her Adorers, being the greatest and chiefest Princess in the East. Endeavouring to divert those cogitations that this new disturbance raised, she employed her self in or­dering those [...]mergent affairs, which the necessity of state introduced. A­raterus presenting himself sometimes before the eye of her mind, put her in remembrance of her promise, and caused her to command Peomon­tile to see for Araterus, whom he found walking in the Anti-chamber re­cogitating on the beauties and Majesties of Amarillis. After their first civilities Araterus followed Peomontile, thorow many Chambers into a fair Gallery, supported with Pillars of Jasper, and the Cornishes of Ebony set with Emralds and Saphirs. At the upper end sat the Queen in a seat of lvory inlaid with Gold and precious stones of the Orient, her elbow resting on the frame of her seat, and her Crimson coloured cheeks kissing the lilies of her hands. She was in a deep musing, but at the first sight of Araterus she started into a composure, and with a generous violence gave him a reception free from any open perturbation. Araterus after his first reverence, and permission to kiss the lower end of her vestment, with the best of his language told her the immemsity of his desire to serve her. This he performed with so pleasing and taking a language, that not only the Queen, but all those that stood about her, confest he was the most accomplished stranger that ever they had seen. The Queen conver­sing with him, asked him many questions concerning his Countrey, and Nation, and concerning his birth and quality, with divers other things of our Manners, Customes and Lawes, to all which Araterus answered so promptly, so gracefully, and with such satisfaction and pleasure, that they found no wearisomness in a discourse that lasted two hours, nor had been scarcely broken off then, but that the Sun revisiting the western parts of the world, began to leave the Orient destitute of his light and splendor. Both being well satisfied with each others wit and behaviour, Araterus at the Queens command retired, she telling him that he should the next day at­tend her in the Camp, where there being a general Muster, she would [Page 252] assign him a place to serve her in, promising that he should not find her ingrateful to his services. Araterus returned more fired than before, and so full of ardencies, that he vowed to serve her all the rest of his dayes with­out ever thinking of returning to his own Countrey again. He thought her worthy of all honour and esteem, and believed that the sacrificeing of a thousand lives in her defence, would not be a victim sufficient to obtain the least favour or grace. Whilst Araterus spent the night in those unu­sual agitations Love and Desire caused, the Queen with no less disturbance, past it over in the silent meditation of him. She sought oftentimes (as she told Araterus afterwards) to interdict his appearance in her memo­ry, and to banish him into oblivion, but he pressed on so heard, and appear'd arm'd with so many charms, that 'twas impossible for her, not to give him admission into her thoughts. This night being passed over with ve­ry little sleep on the part of Araterus, he appeared on the morrow at the place appointed, which was in a large plaine on the North-side of the City. In that place was met the whole strength of the kingdome, in so gallant an equipage, that we accounted it the greatest rarity we had yet seen. I doubt what I shall tell you will be scarce credited, when you shall com­pare the Armies of the East of Asia with those of this part, or of Europe, not considering the vastness of their Countryes, and populosity of them, the land not being sufficient to contain them, is fain to borrow habitations for millions on his neighbour element. The plaine (which was only cover­ed with trees towards the City) was of an extent of many Leagues, on which was spread milions of Tents, made of a thin kind of stuff imbued with divers colours, being branched forth into rare works and compartments. On the top of the Chieftaine's, or (according to their language) Birebassa [...]'s Tent of each Province or Shire, hung the Insigna of each Province, to which all of that Province were to repaire. Of these there were seven Tents that carried Insigna's, six of the Provinces, and one of the Cities, which had an Insigna by it self, besides the royal standards of the Queens which appeared more superb then all. These head or capital Tents stood an equal distance each from another, and although it were on a plaine, on which the Horizon might be seen a vast way, the lines lying plane and level, yet the tops of the one could hardly be perceived from another. They were placed four square, makeing a small intrenchment for many Leagues about each Tent, leaving large spaces betwixt for the exercise of armes. Within these entrenchments were the Tents of all the under Captaines, with their Companies, which consisted most commonly of five thousand. The tent with the insigna of Sinda was pitched next to the City, all their Companies being stretched along by the wall of the City, the other standing like a large Quadrangle enclosed the royal Tent of the Queens, which at a distance exhibited it self like a large Castle, in which was vari­ety of rooms and conveniencies, and yet made with such art, that in six hours it could be either set up or taken down, its greatness nothing hin­dring its portage, there being Elephants for that purpose. The Tents set forth with variety of paintings, and imbellished with streamers, ren­dred themselves very pleasing Objects to the sight, but the innumerable companies of men and arms amazed us, and made us believe that 'twas impossible they should be overcome, yet they confest they expected their enemies with far greater force. Whilst we were amazed at what we had seen, we saw another thing which would at first sight seem a great wonder amongst us. 'Twas a Charriot which comming on the left hand of us, ran a great pace over the plane without the drawing of any living animal. You would have thought it had been inchanted, or that your eyes had been de­luded, we indeed counted it strange at first, but having often seen them [Page 253] used 'twas no wonder to us. The first inventor of them was a Sinanan, who intended to make the land navigable, that they might sail as well upon the land as the sea. They were made in form of a boat, with four wheels, with springs and engines that rendred it flexible every way. The guidance was not without art, and was managed by one, who as the Pilot in the ship, kept it direct before the wind: In the middle it had small Masts, on which were spread the sails, that being swoln with the wind, moved the Charriot a great swiftness over the plane. This Chariot which we saw, we soon knew by the richness and the insigna to be the Queens, which took the way to her royal Tent, being followed by all her Court. Araterus rode not far from the Charriot, all the while contemplating of those things which are memo­rable to Lovers. Afte [...] she had entred her Tent which illustrated the whole plane, and a while reposed her self, Araterus was had in by Peomontile. The Queen was seated in a kind of Throne, advanced by some steps in a spacious room, where she expected all the Chieftains of the Provinces to render up their Muster rolls, that she might know the number of the men and arms. I will remit the nominating of their Captains or Provinces, be­ing only names, harsh and barbarous in your ears, and only give you an account of their number and order, that I may not render you weary with my prolixity. Peomontile being the Chieftain of the City had the first place of presenting the number of men under his charge, which were an hun­dred and fifty thousand, with five thousand Elephants with Castls, divided into troops, and subdivided into Companies, every Captain of a Company having under him five thousand, and of a Troop fifty thousand. The other Chieftains in order presented the Queen likewise with their rolls after they had been admitted to kiss the end of her robe, the first Province brought two hundred and eight thousand men, well armed and appointed with a thousand Elephants, the second as many, the third ten thousand more, the fourth brought five hundred thousand, the fifth and sixth two hundred thou­sand men and five thousand Elephants, a beast ordinarily used in wars in those Countryes, so that all their Army consisted of sixteen hundred and eighty four thousand men, and fifteen thousand Elephants. The Queen haveing the absolute dispose of the Militia, gave order to the Captaines concerning their pay and rewards. In their Wars the Chieftain of the Ci­ty uses evermore to be Generalissimo, and therefore it was conferred on Peomontile, one indeed capable of the place, the other Chieftains having the leading of those of their several Provinces. Araterus not being for­got, was made Captain of her life-gard, a place of honour and trust. Pas­sion indeed alwayes blinds reason, and makes the most prudent erre in his judgement: The Queen, one of the wisest of the East, having felt the vio­lent agitations of a growing passion, lost her judgement, and followed its dictates. In all other things she was of a solid judgement, and could distinguish right by the light of reason, but in those that touched her private interests, where she could not keep out passion. She knew that she had err'd, and yet she could not but erre, Araterus was already one, more to her than another, and she began to shew her partiality in this action. She could not resolve to love him, and yet she could not hate him, or hazard him: she loved to see him, and therefore she ordained that place to keep him nigh her, and to oblige him to her. It may be she did not see that this was the dictates of her passion, but rather thought it those of her good Genius or titular an­gel, but she could not be ignorant, but that this action would be strangely resented, and that it would beget Araterus more envy and enemies than love or friends. Such sudden favourites are alwayes envied, and sometimes ruined, especially being strangers. Araterus indeed believing the danger to be greater than the honour, civilly refused, and beg'd her not to make him su­perbly such [Page 254] immense favours, but to reward him according to his merits, but she pressing it he could not with safety refuse it, his passion pleading for so advantagious a place.

He being setled in the place according to the orders of the Queen, it was presently known throughout the Camp, and very odly resented, but the authority of the Queen made them but whisper, not speak aloud by their ill resentment of it. Their wondring and muttering did but very privately arrive at their ears; so that she took no notice of it, hoping it would soon be husht, and the vertue of Araterus would quiet their spirits.

Things remained awhile in this state, Araterus being very sensible of the favours of the Queen, and his place obliging him to it, he often visit­ed her, and had conference with her. Amongst such a numerous Army 'twas a wonder to see so much order and quietude, the City shewed no sign of all these preparations, or of War, but by a little more vigilancy: The soldiers were all kept without the City, that they might not annoy it. The Queen had word brought her by her Curriors, that the army of her enemies was advancing towards the frontiers, and that they seemed to take the way of Cherlozth, and that besides this Army there appeared a fleet comming from the lower Provinces of Sinana, which seem'd to cover the whole gulf of Bengan. The Queen calling her Council, and ha­ving advised together, they gave order to one of the Borebassae's to advance with half the Army towards the place where they expected the enemies to enter. And the rest to enter the City under Peomontile to secure it, half of them entring into the ships, under the Alquebuzque, or Admiral of the sea. Every thing was put into a posture of defence, most expecting their enemies with impatiencies. The Queen experimenting the wisdome and knowledge of Araterus, let never a day pass without discoursing with him, concerning one thing or other, and finding him so rational in all his an­swers, she began to make him oraculous. Being in discourse with her concerning the War, and having a longng desire to be bickering with the enemy, that he might exhibite his valour, believing that the only way to render himself gra­cious in her eyes, and knowing that this place would oblige him not to leave the Queen, nor to be present in the Encounter, he intreated her to restore her former captain into her favour, and to permit him to serve her under Peomontile, or if she dared to repose her trust in his skill or fi­delity, to grant him the defence of the haven, where he might be more serviceable to her Majesty, than in that place she had honoured him with. She was somewhat difficult in granting this, both in consideration of his danger, and of her peoples murmuring. But he pressing her two or three times, she was fain to let love overcome reason, and to grant what he de­sired. He was no sooner setled in that place by the Queens order with a hundred thousand men under his charge, but the rest of the Captains and Soldiers▪ being highly displeased, lost their wonted respect, and ceased not openly to deprave this action of the Queens, some believing him a s [...]ie, and that his intentions were to betray them to the enemie, others that he was a Coward, and not fitting for a place of such consequence and trust. They proceeded so far in their disrespect, and spake so loud, that they had al­most mutined, had not Peomontile satisfied them by promising to make the Queen acquainted with their councel, care and fidelity. He presently made the Queen acquainted with it, and told her she might incur extream danger by their evil resentments, and therefore advised her to recall him, and not provoke the Soldiers in this exigent. The Queen heard him, but being of a humour alwayes resolute, would not alter what she had done, but told him, that she confided very much in Araterus, knowing him to be valiant by what he had done at his first coming thither, and that his discourse exhibited [Page 255] that he was not ignorant of military aff [...]irs, but that he had both Judgement, Prudence and valour. That 'twas true she had entrusted him with the Key or strength of her Kingdome, but that it would rather encourage him to trea­chery than stop him to suspect him, now, That it was not safe to enrage a man from whom she expected much, to degrade him now: That if he had a­ny intentions to betray her, her generosity and goodnesse would oblige him to the contrary, That if he had any such intentions he could not effect them, not having gained the affections of the souldiers, and she knowing that her Captaines would not obey him farther then they might see that it tended to the safety of the Kingdome, and lastly, That she gave him leave to set a private guard about him to observe his actions, which if they tended not to the safety of the Kingdom, she remitted him into his hands, to do what he pleased with him▪ Peomontile seeing the resolutions of the Queen, & not having any sinister opinion of Araterus seem'd contented, and leaving the Queen with his authority, and perswasions, he at last pacified the souldiers, and begat a bet­ter opinion in many of Araterus: who hearing of these passages extreamly de­sired to rectifie their thoughts concerning him by his actions, which he effected soon after.

Every one expecting the enemies with much impatiency, prepared all things that were necessary for their defence. The City was every where fortified and well guarded, the ports all along the gulfe secured, the fine that came into the City chained up, with a kind of fort made of boates to defend it, and at the mouth lay their ships and boates ready prepared, most of all the bigger vessels being armed with sithes, & hooks, and their prowes set with sharpe Irons, to spoyle their tackle, and ships. There was nothing wanting that those Kingdomes could afford, either for their own defence or to oftend their enemys. Araterus also animating his soul­diers to the defence of their Queen, their own lives and liberties, set them on fire with a longing to be fighting with their enemies, that they might te­stifie the courage his words had inspired into them. After some few dayes the fleet of the enemies was discovered from the summit of a high tower, which consisted of such an innumerable company of vessells that the sea seemed to groan under their weight. The noise of their enemies instru­ments, as Clarons, Trumpets, Flutes and such like, being heard, they were reanswered from the fleet of the Sornaleans, with the like, and with shouts that exhibited they were nothing feared with their approach. Two dayes they lay in the gulfe within fight of the fleet without shewing the least signe of engageing, the third, being favoured with a full winde, they came up towards ours; with such a shout, that the fowle which flew over their heads through the clarification of the aire, fell as dead among their ships. The [...]u [...]mits of all the towers of the City were filled, to behold this first naval encounter; and the Queen, with the chief ladies in the Kingdome being mounted on a high tarrasse, had a very fair prospect on the sea. Assoon as they were come within shoot of one another the Sinana [...]s let fly a volley of shot from those murtherers which I before spake of, which so beat the aire that it shoke the firmest buildings in the City, the smoake of the sulpburious powder arising in curles cast so great a mist that it deprived us of the sight of both the fleets.

This kind of weapon amazed us, having never before beheld the like, and made us in the midst of that confusion consider its danger. The Sornaleans reanswered their shot, with another of darts, and slings, which breaking their way thorow the smoake gave many of their enemies their deaths: Knowing that 'twas not for their safety to keep at a di­stance with them, they tacked about and gaining the wind came in upon them with a fury not to be depainted. Their prowes rushing one against [Page 256] another made a horrible crash, and riving many in two, let in the in­domitable water into their bowels, valour was exhibited on both sides, and strength and fury reigned every where: but the Sinanans hav­ing galled our ships with their great shot between wind and water, ma­ny of them sunke to the bottome of the gulf. We could not perceive that before they grappled they were pittifully shaterred, both in their tack [...]ing and men, but when outs came to a close, they repayed them double, our enemies ships being so thawc't with men that they hindred the perfor­mances of one another, so that ours where ever the stroke fel­led some, and made a flaughter that lightned whole ships of their numbers, and imbued the whole gulf with the tincture of their blood.

Blood and Death reigned every where, and this encounter lasted ma­ny houres accompanyed with all the horror and slaughter that can be fra­med in the immagination. All the ships being intermingled one with a­nother made a strange confused noyse made up of groans and shoutes. A­raterus had beheld this naumachy with wonderfull impatiency, and tran­sports from the forte that defended the sine, being ready at every shout and disadvantage to leap into the sea, but the remembrance of his charge kept him in the fort, and ty'd him to his duty till that he saw the Sorna­leans, loose ships apace, and began to faint, being too much pressed up­on by their numerous enemies. He was then no longer able to contain himself, but causing all the small vessels which lay within the rode to be got together he man'd them with thirty thousand men, and leaving the rest under command to secure the Key, he advanced towards the fleet, and with undaunted courage mauger all the endeavours of his enemies, him­selfe borded their viceadmirall, and clearing the decks took her from a whole squadron of enemies. The rest emboldened by this action, fought so stoutly that the disadvantage perspicuously appeared on our enemies side, having lost all those ships they had taken with many of their own. Night coming on, the sleets separated with a considerable losse on both sides, ours indeed had lost most vessels, but they by far most men.

'Twas darke before they left them, and both cast anchor within sight of each other, makeing a shew of another battell the next morning. A­raterus returned to the sort highly commended by his followers for his va­lour and courage. Love had directed the eyes of the Queen to observe his actions, which made her to send for him the same night, where she gave him those collaudations and Eulogiums which his modesty would not have accepted, and which did but raise up the envie of others, though she re­warded all alike lest any should take notice of her partiality, she also commanded her own Chirurgions to dresse those wounds he had received which were a thrust into the left hand, which he got in boarding the vice-admirall, and a shot thorow the same arme by one of their Mur­therers.

By this action Araterus gain'd the favour of many, by clearing those suspicions they had of him, and especially amongst the rest Peomontile, who highly carressed, and esteemed him. The next morning appearing, each side had light to view their losse; which was so considerable that they shew­ed no desire of a second encounter, before they had repaired their brea­ches. In this posture the Sinanans continued eight days, and being well sa­tisfyed with the courage of the Sornaleans they feared to hazard another bat­tle by sea. They saw that the ports were too well guarded for them to land, and notwithstanding their great puissance they saw 'twas a matter of im­possibility to endammage the City. Land they must, and therefore they [Page 257] endeavoured to effect it without our suspition or knowledge; having con­sidered all places that were any thing commodious, they pitched on an ob­scure place which indeed was too weak to make any resistance. In the night time as silently as might be they passed most of their men into half of their vessells, leaving the other in the place with a command to spread wide that their departure might not be perceived by us. This was done so silent­ly that we had no notice of it, till by the firing of certain beakons, we un­derstood that they were in danger & presently after the curriors brought word that they had landed their men in a bay where they were notable to resist them.

Peomontile calling all the chief of the officers together (Araterus being among the rest) desired their counsells in this case. After many had spo­ken Araterus was of this opinion: That delay would be very prejudiciall to their affaires, that 'twas requisite the whole fleet should advance towards that of their enemies, when he was perswaded 'twas left but poorly man'd and left on purpose but to amuse them, that in the mean time Peomontile should advance by land towards the place where the Sinanans were landed that they might not advantage themselves too much, by the use of the country, and that they might appear before that they could order so great a body. This councill seemed so reasonable that 'twas followed, and Peomontile leaving enou [...]h to secure that great City drew out most of his forces, and advan­ced towards the enemy. Araterus being unwilling to sit still in Sinda, got leave of Peomontile that he should add his thirty thousand to the ships and leave the desence of the port to any he should substitute. Having joy­ned then with the sleet they weighed anchor and made to that of their ene­mies with full saile. They knowing their own weaknesse did not dare to hazard a battle, but perceiving our intention gained the Point and sled be­fore us. We could not fetch them up before they had entred the bay a­mongst their other ships. Believing it best to stay for the appearance of Pe­omontile on the land we lay at the mouth of the bay wide of one another, the sea favouring us with a happy tranquillity. Peomontile using all possible expediti­on, and being well accquainted with the ways, appeared at the backs of his enemies very unexpectedly, some few dayes after our arrivall. The enemy were encamped in a very disadvantagious place, and where they could make very little use of their great Murtherers, which they had but newly unshipped.

Peomontile being very expert gained a hill which they had neglected to their great disadvantage, not expecting them so soon, spreading his men he almost inviron'd them, most of theirs continuing on the shore, fearing an assault from our ships, which as it were besieged them. The Queen having a dasire to be an eye-witnesse of the actions of her souldiers and I believe especially of Araterus, from whom love perswaded her to expect some great action, left the City with a guard of sive thousand partizans, and drawn in her Royal Chariot, made of the fairest Elephants tooth, in­laid with gold, the wheeles of Ebony, with bands and nails of silver, covered over with cloth of gold and tissue, drawn by two white Elephants the fairest the East ever produced, crown'd with golden crownes, and co­vered with silk, in which was embroidered the arms of the Queen, which was the Sun Orient. In this equipage she came to a rock on the left hand of the campe from whence she could perceive both the armies and the navies, and distinguish those she knew from the rest: presently after her arrivall she sent a small boat to Araterus, with an expresse that she de­sired to conser with him. He immediately returning with the mes­senger presented himself to the Queen with a most pro [...]ound obeisance, who received him with a grace very pleasant and familiar. Peomontile with some of the chief of the army, being sent for by the Queen, they en­tred [Page 258] into counsell concerning their affairs, the conclusion whereof was, that they should adventure a battail, having the advantage of the ground, al­though their enemies exceeded them in number, that at the same time they should begin it both by sea and land, at the firing of a beakon, which should be assoon as the Sun appeared the next day, and that in the mean time they should rest and prepare their souldiers for it. This being concluded, they gave Araterus an Order to give the admiral for the execution of what they had concluded.

Araterus being about to depart was met with by a damosell from the Queen, who presented him in the Queens name a crimson scarf embost with the fairest pearls that ever eye beheld, which made up the name of A­marillis in great letters, the length of the scarf, at each end was her armes set with the embossment of diamonds, and fring'd with gold and long tassels of Pearls. Araterus was amazed at the richnesse and bravery of the scarfe, and receiving it with respect desired her to tel the Queen that before the mor­row night, he hop'd to be a meanes to render her tryumphant over all her enemys, or to loose his life in the action. That what ever he was able to performe should not be attributed to himself, but accounted the ef­fect of a power which inspired him through the immensity of her favours and goodnesse.

Being returned to the ships he gave the Order of the general to the admi­rall, who thereby knowing his intentions spent the rest of the day in the preparation of his vessels, and in incouraging his men to do bravely. A­raterus being agitated by his love, expected the next day with impatiency, re­solving to signalize his actions, and make him selfe worthy of the high fa­vours of the Queen, by perpetrating to the utmost whatsomever the immense force of his love, and innate valour could carry him to. The next day ap­peared some houres after Araterus had expected it with waking eyes, after he had saluted the Gods with his prayers, and especially the deity of Love, he caused me to help him on with his armes, which he had caused to be made in that country: They were made of the best steel, the umbraces and bucklings of plates of silver; his cuirace set out with great bosses of gold and pearl, and his caske, of a mixt mettal, was shaded with a plume of Ostrich feathers tinctur'd with ostrum, which imbued it with a purple, upon his left arme he tyed the signall of the Queens favour which she sent him the night before. In this manner he awaited the signall: which was given at the time appointed. The ships presently moved towards their ene­mies, who expecting the encounter receiv'd them with resolution and valour. Whilst the two fleets were performing all that could be expected from their force and puissance, filling every place with horror, death, blood, and confusion; Peomontile having divided the army into four battalions, moved deliberately and in good order towards the Sinanans. The generall of the Sinanans being both valiant and Politick, and seconded by the Prince himselfe who led the Van of the cavalrie, a Prince valiant enough, but withall furious and temerary, had notice of our intentions to fight and therefore was fully prepared for us. He saw the disadvantages that they had in the ground, but being supernumerary in men, he hoped to overwhelme ours: Besides they had the advantage in weapons; half of their men carry­ing those hand-murtherers. He had divided his army into 6. battalions, e­very battallion equalling ours, if not exceeding. It will be needlesse to de­scribe this battle to you, though it were one of the bloodiest, and greatest, that ever was fought in the East, both for that your self have been in many, and therefore know the heat and Mars-full Enthusiasme that then agitates generous, and couragious spirits, and that I may not terrifie these Ladies with the relation of nothing but horror, blood and death. Besides, should you [Page 259] desire it, I could not give it you exactly as it was, because I had no time to observe that congression on the land, being ingaged so hotly in that on the Sea. The Queen with the most considerable Ladies in the Kingdome was mounted on the utmost summit of the Rock, that they might the better as­sault Heaven with their prayers, and that they might behold a battel that made the strongest amongst them yield themselves to fears and fainting. As for the Queen, believe me, she could not permit her eyes to behold whe­ther her army we [...]e like to prove victorious or not, although on it depended her crown, riches, state, honour, and it may be life, such a power had love above fear in her soul. Her eyes were inseparable to the navie, and you may believe that 'twas for Araterus's sake that she was so partiall as to regard that battle on the sea, more than that on the Land. Indeed her eyes sought for Araterus, 'twas a very easie matter for love to make her finde him, he rendering himself so signall and remarkable. She saw him do wonders and miracles, and as if victory still attended him she could not withdraw her eyes from observing him, and indeed his actions were so im­mense that they chain'd her eyes to him with a kind of pleasinng charm and inchantment.

They followed him thorow the thickest presse, and accompanyed him a­mongst blood, wounds, & arms. I need not tell you that every time she saw him in danger, she was struck with fear of loosing him which present­ly made her change colour a thousand times, and which would have been observed by others, had not so generall a congression attracted all their eyes with an intensity on their actions. Araterus after he had brought terrour, wounds, and death to all that opposed him; and begat an admiration in all that beheld, with an undaunted courage being grapled with the admiral entred his ship, and there giving death and mortall wounds to all that with­stood him, made the rest fly, whom he pursued into the hold, where finding a great deal of combustible matter he flung some of their black powder a­mongst it, and after that some fire which he had got in the ship; This in­continently taking fire, set the ship into a light conslagration which being drove with a gale of wind amongst the rest, caught hold of all that came a near it, and the ships lying so close grapled together, took it with such futy, and so immense a flame, that there needed then no other enemy to contest with. Our admirall caused as many ships as possibly could to be saved of ours, and turning their prows about got forth of the bay, and left those flames the victory, which gained a very absolute on over them, for their ships being so numerous, and conjoyned so thick one to another 'twas impossible to hinder the progresse of the flame, which running from one ship to another at last consum'd the whole navy to ashes, with thou­sands of their men: For some flying the fire, perish'd in the water, and others thinking to escape drowning, got into the ships and were burnt.

Then it was that the flames, smoke, and consusion had obscured Araterus from the eyes of the Queen, she fear'd that she had utterly lost him, and that he had perished with thousand others, this made her, as if the vi­ctory depended wholy on his life or death, to turn away her head from that fatal place with dispairing eyes, as if the combustion of her enemies ships had been to her losse and detriment. And (if it be true as she said from whom I learn't this afterwards) she could not abstain from shedding some teares at the conceited losse of Araterus. But her eyes were soon re­clear'd, for she had no sooner cast them on the midst of the battell, but she saw him victorious, and conquering, and doing his ordinary wonders, at the Head of her army. He but narrowly escaped the danger of being drown­ed or burnt, but when he had set the ship on fire he gain'd a little boat [Page 260] by my help, and sled to the shore amongst the rest, [...]h [...]t [...] nothing but the saving their own lives. B [...]ing g [...]t to the shore [...] our selves amongst the multitude; and finding some [...], and rode to the two armies who were now in the mi [...]st of all [...].

The battle there was no lesse blody than that had been on the S [...]: and the whole place was become a Sea of blood, wherein [...]ailed nothing b [...]t Death and Horror. At the beginning our men had the worst, loosing four to one; but Peomontile, perceiving the odds in their weapons, knew that to overcome them 'twas necessary to conjoyn an [...] to come to handy-strokes with them, which they (knowing the advantage they had) declin [...]d with dexterity enough. After he had endeavoured it for some hou [...]s in vaine, he caused about fifty thousand Elephants to advance, from the top of whose Castles, the Sornaleans did gallant execution, and under whose shelter the right wing of the army advanced.

The Sinanans endeavouring to shun the close si [...]ht had like to have disor­dered themselves, and have given away the victory with a kind of runing re­treate. At last perceiving 'twas inevitable, and that their enemies were too pressing, they met, with a fury that caus'd thousands to dye on either side. The valour of our first battell had declared them the victory when they recei­ved the shock of the second, and being augmented by ours they opposed them with a continued violence. Theirs beginning to shrink, their third battell advanc'd led by the Prince himselfe, which was met by ours with a shout that equalized the noyse that their instruments of death made. Af­ter many houres dispute the fourth battell, in which were both the gene­ralls met, and that instant 'twas when we came to the army, Araterus placing himself in the head of them, led them on with a courage that in­spired the most cowardly with a desire to do bravely. 'Twas then indeed that he rendered himself so signall, that all that beheld his actions, cry'd out miracles and wonders. Desi [...]ing nothing so much as glory, he was ever tyred with shedding common blood, he finds them too weak and unable to resist him, and pressing in amongst the thickest he makes his sword tast the flesh of those whom he perceives to be most daring, and valiant. At last he espies the generall of the Siranans doing actions that presently made him envious of his glory. Not examining the danger he made way th [...]row the opposing troops, and comming to handy stroaks with him, might have given him a satall testimony of his courage had not his horse to his great mis­fortune fell dead between his leggs, through the wounds that he had recei­ved. Then it was that fear, and griefe depainted it selfe most virely in the eyes and face of the Queen, Who not able to see him in that exigent fell into a sowne, in the armes of her Ladies, who attributed it to the work­ing of her immagination on these dreadfull, and dying objects. This made her loose the sight of the bravest actions in the world, for he despairing of life, resolved to sacrifice as many as he could to love, his actions were in­credible, and he soon made him a rampart of dead bodies, still defending his life from the most daring, till the generall loth to loose a man of such importance rescued him out of that danger, and mauger the opposition of the enemies mounted him on another horse. Ours began to get the bet­ter when their last battails joyned with so great impetuosity that it render­ed the victory doubtfull, and made them make use of the utmost of their courage and force to withstand them.

I shall not lye if I say that the actions of Araterus disposed the victory on our side, for they were so signal and daring that they both encouraged the Sornaleans, and made desperate our adversaries. Whilst Araterus gave hopes of the victory on one side, Peomontile had almost lost it on the other, [Page 261] for loosing above fifty thousand men, himself was taken prisoner by the Prince. Araterus hearing this, with enough that readily followed him made hast to that place of damage, but by the way meeting with the General of the Sinanans, engaged himself a second time with him in a particular combate, and at last (notwithstanding the resistance of the enemies) he deprived him of his life through two or three mortal wounds. Flying like lightning thorow the midst of the enemies, he recovered the General, and gave him that liberty which they were about to deprive him of: following his good luck he encountred next with the Prince, who coming at that in­stant woun [...]ed Peomontile very dangerously on the head, for requital of which Araterus wounded him in the thigh, and pressing hard upon him, made him shelter himself amongst the thickest of his Troops. Then it was that victory having hung a long while in suspence, came and setled up­on our standards, for at that instant all those of the Navey being landed, came on them with a fresh encounter in their flanks, and crying out victory, victory, did such execution that it terrified them all, and seeing their ships burnt, their General slain, and their Prince wounded, they began to de­spair of victory, and to retreat disorderly. The Sornaleans perceiving the fear of their enemies, renewed their courages, and crying out victory on every side, perswaded their enemies that it was so, before they had it. At last they forgot their order, and sled confusedly, being slaughtered on every side by their enemies, who then slew more then they had done all the day before, and of so numerous an Army let very few escape the punishment of the sword. Araterus being in the chase, took the Prince prisoner, and so saved his life from the enraged multitude, some few escaped to those ships that the fire had left, and so recovered the sea, the rest escaping into woods, and such places of shelter, saved their lives, and left the Sornaleans victorious and triumphant.

The Sun weary of beholding so bloody an execution, hid himself in the occidental waves, and the obscuring night drawing on a pace, sought to hide that blood and horror that was spread ore the superficies of those plains. A hundred new springs of crimson waves [...]an along the fields, to find a passage into the Ocean, where ingulsing themselves, they con­verted the waters into a sea of blood. It is impossible to tell you the num­ber of the slain on both sides, but they were so many, that they moved the cruelest to pity when the first heat of their fury was over. Neither will it be much to the purpose to tell you the number of the wounded, or priso­ners. Araterus sinning himself wounded in two places in the arm, and in the face, retired to the Generals tent, and finding that his wound in his head was very dangerous, he left him, and went into another hard by set up by the Generals order, where he had his wounds dressed by Peomontiles own Surgions. The Queen having seen the end of the battle, saluted the gods with her prayers, and gave them innumberable thanks for the protecti­on they had sent her, in the person of the valiant stranger. She immedi­atly descends into the Camp, and having visited the General, she came and carressed Araterus with so much joy, and giving him those praises and Collaudations, that he accounted himself over and above satis­fied for the pains and travels he had taken. He told her what he had done was but his duty, and that it did not merit the least of those acknow­ledgements she was pleased out of her goodness to give him: That 'twas the merits of her cause that gave her the victory, not their valour; That the gods could not in Justice deny their protection to the innocent, and 'twas her own prayers which were more prevalent than their arms, that had vanquished her enemies, and sacrificed so many thousands in the place: that for his part all that he had done that could be attributed to manhood or prowesse, was but the effects of her goodness upon his soul.

Such like speeches passing between them, Araterus presented the Prince of Sinana at her feet, who having a soul that yielded to the disaster of fortune, did not dare to lift his eyes from the ground, on which he fixed them. Re­ceiving him from Araterus with very many thanks and acknowledgements: Degenerate man! (said she to him somewhat enraged at his base spirit) this meanness of spirit little becomes a P [...]ince that hath dar'd to pretend so high, and who in prosperity used the highest insolencies and insufferable Pride.

This dejection doth but illustrate the baseness of thy heart, and tells us that it was never capable but of the blackest of crimes, wherein was nothing either of ambition or of love, things which make crimes sometimes par­donable. No, thine hath proceeded from nothing but pride and insolen­cy, accompanied with rage and temerity. You have often told me you have been my prisoner, now you are really so, and we shall have time to consider your deserts: with this turning from him she gave order for his securement, and appointed him to be had to Sinda, which was done ac­cordingly. The night coming on apace, she gave order to the Chirurgi­gions to have as much care on Araterus as on her self, and returned with her guard to the next town, where she was accommodated as well as the time and [...]lace would afford.

As soon as the Sun appeared in the East, chaceing away the horrors of the night with his splendid beams, the General gave order for the burning of the bodies of the slain, and the inte [...]rement of the chiefest Captains, be­ing very many slain on both sides. This being effected, and the Chirur­gions permitting the General to travel, they returned to Sinda, with their banners displayed, the insign [...]'s of their enemies trailed on the ground, trophies of their armes carried in Chariots before them, and with all the signes of joy, tryumph and magnificence that could possibly be imagined. They were scarcely lodg'd in Sinda before the Queen received word by the Posts, that her other Army in the Frontiers had received a great overthrow, through the unskilfulness of their Leader, and that the enemies troops ad­vanceing apace, came accompanied with victory, fire and sword. This news put a damp upon the Generals rejoyceing, and made them see their danger was not over. The Queen sending for Peomontile and Araterus, told them this newes, and withal, that she was not to expect victory from any other hands than from the sage Peomontile, and the valiant Araterus: that it was for their glory that her army had received the overthrow, the gods having ordained, that none besides themselves should contribute any thing to hers, and her kingdomes happiness: And that it was them alone that she ought justly to stile her Protectors and deliverers. These speeches were answered by a great deal of submission and humility by them both, they testifying that pride could make no advantage on their souls by the praises of the Queen, but rather inspired them with a generous valour and desire of serving her. After they had assured her of their utmost endeavours, and given her their Council how to proceed, they received her commands to go meet them with their victorious army. She could not chuse but ex­press her sad resentments for their so sudden departute, which she did with notable address, and in general terms, but Araterus might have seen that if it might have stood with his honour and her safety, he should have stayed behind. The Soldiers having received a largess from the Queen, with pro­mises of greater rewards, marched with a courage and resolution that already assured them of the victory over their enemies. The General that received the former overthrow, hoping to regain what he had lost, was so rash and unadvised to hazard another battle, wherein he resolved to dye or regain his former honour, knowing it would be an in supportable disgrace to appear any more before his Queen, having lost it through his own unskilfullness, [Page 263] more then his cowardize; But fortune resolving the victory for Araterus, he lost both his life and the better halfe of the Army in the Conslict, so that the enemies came flesht with their victories, and tryumphing, till they heard of the loss of their other Army, which gave such a check to their exultancies, that it half conquered them before the other Army could come to oppose them. Fortune that seem'd to be sworn now to Araterus's side, gave us the first victory, in which the enemy lost a hundred thousand men, and twenty thousand Elephants. Seeking still to ingage them, we ob­tained two or three one after another, in all which sights Araterus did such actions, that the most envious of them all could not but contribute to his glory, seeing they tended to theirs, and their kingdomes preservation. 'Twas more then once or twice that he saved the life of Peomontile, he slew with his own hand two of the enemies Generals, and by his examples in­spired others with such courage and animosity, that he often turned the fortune of the battle, and although reduced to extremities and Exigents, he still came off victorious and tryumphant. Having oftentimes discom­ [...]ited them with extraordinary loss, strong holds there not being regarded to retard a War, but determining all with pitched battles, the War was soon finished, and in halfe a year there was not an enemy that dar'd appear in the Kingdome, and of so many hundred thousand men very few returned into their own Countrey. Peace being setled in those parts, we returned to Sinda, where Peomontile and Araterus were received by the Queen with such caresses of joy, and in such state, triumph and magnifi­cence, that the East never beheld the like.

These publick rejoyceings after many weeks beginning to lessen, the Queen who was generous and noble, (having before acquainted her Uncle Peomontile and Araterus with her intentions, who gave her their approbati­on) sent for the Prince of Sinana: He who thought it had been to receive the sentence of death, came with so dejected a countenance, that he dis­graced the quality he represented, and the apprehensions of which, made him speak, and do things so misbecoming a Prince, that the Queen had much ado to endure him in her presence whilst she told him: That he now saw the fruits of his insolency, pride and temerity, and that although she had respected him above his demerits, and according to that regality which he bore, yet that he had unworthily, and altogether misbecoming a Prince behaved himself. That he saw how the number of his men, his threatnings, insolencies and pride were overthrown by the gods, who protected her innocency against his violencies. That being her prisoner, and guilty of such hor [...]ible crimes she could justifie his death to all the world, and that she ought not to have deferred it so long; but yet for all this that she had given him his life clearly, with his lib [...]rty, not that he had any wayes deserved the least favour, but rather more than death by his pusillanimity and deje­cted carriage so unworthy a P [...]ince; but that she accounted him unworthy her revenge, or anger, and she permitted him to live that she might con­serve him for the Subject of her hate and scorn. The Prince received this sentence with some sign of joy, and though it was so little to his glory ap­plauded the Queens Mercy. According to her order he was conducted to the Frontiers of the kingdome, with all the other prisoners which she had taken, with them she sent a letter to his father the king of Sinana, in which she old him: That 'twas her desire to live in peace & amity with all her neighbour-Princes, but especially with him, the interests of whose kingdome her An­cestors had alwayes made their own. That she wondred he was so unadvis­ed to follow the temerity of his son, and to ingage himself in a Warre so unjust and illegal, thereby breaking those Leagues which she ever had kept inviolable. That what she had done, was but in her own defence, and [Page 264] to keep her and her Subjects from ruin and destruction, and therefore that he was to thank himself and fortune for his overthrow and loss. That for her part she desired not to make use of her good fortune, nor advantages that she had against him, either in assaulting him in an hostile way, al­though her Armies were ready, and sufficient enough to endamage him, or to use that violence to him in the person of his Son, which might sa­tisfie to all the world. That as the gods and the justness of her cause had rendred her victorious, so her generosity and innate goodness had rendred her mercifull, that thereby he might see she had no other ends then to conserve her kingdome in peace and prosperity, though as he now knew, she was able to defend her self from his and others Tyranny.

And lastly, That she had sent him his son, and had given him his liberty without ransome or intreary, notwithstanding the wrongs he had done her, and the ruin he had endeavoured for a requital of all her savours she had shewed him, whilst he remained in her Court. This letter so full of ge­nerosity and obligements wrought much on the King of Sinana, who was raising an Army twice so big as the former to repair his losses, and made him presently desist, and receive those the Queen had sent with his son, with caresses and acknowledgements. The evil nature of that Prince was nothing moved with the Queens generosity, and seeing himself out of her power, he would have instigated his father against her, and have per­swaded him to go on with his levies, but notwithstanding his insinuations, the King sent an Embassador to the Queen with so many rich presents that it sufficiently ransomed the Prince, and discharged the charges of the war, giving him in charge also to conclude a peace more strict than before be­tween them. This was effected, and they returned from the Queen ve­ry well satisfied with her generosity and liberality, with presents worthy of her quality to the King their Master, which (as we heard) he received with wonderfull acknowledgement and address.

Peace being thus concluded, and every thing setled with prudence and care, the Queen began to give ease to her thoughts, and entertain those pleasing Idea's which in the midst of all her troubles often interrupted her. The first thing she did was in rewarding those who had done valiantly, and served her faithfully. Araterus you may be sure, tasted of her liberality, she made him Birebasse or Governour of a province, making him by her savours and his places the second in the Kingdome next to Peomontile. There was none but said he deserved it, and that the favours of the Queen could not be better bestowed; the mouth of envy it self being stopt by his vertues, & by the port that he had carried amongst the people: Indeed all spoke for him, and desir'd to render him caresses & acknowledgements: his valour and vertue still lived in their memories, and his continual Courtesie, made it spring there eternally. Truly his mediocrity was admirable, for if in all his formet misfortunes I had noted a constancy hardly parallelable, and that without dejection, I could not observe in all his height of glory the least exultancy or pride, but what he received was with a spirit full of tranquillity, and he would never have received such high favours and honours, but that he thought it would render him more considerable for his aspiring Love. Indeed that still conserv'd its flames, and all those heats that had agitated him in the wars, proceeded from that, he makeing me his confident, often told me of its ardencies, and how unsupportable they began to grow, notwith­standing the hopes, the prophesie, and inclinations of the Queen inspired him with. Those indeed maintained him in a tranquillity not usual with Lovers, and conserved him from their disquiets a long time. He found the favours of the Queen so obliging, and her caresses and endearments so favourable, that he began to hope he should arrive at the summe [Page 265] of [...]his happiness. The Queen being of an imperious humour, had grievous contests with her love, so that her soul was agitated continually with contra­ry and opposing thoughts. And as she related her self to Araterus after­ward, they were such as these. She considered the inequality between Araterus and her self, that he was nothing but by her creation, that her self was one of the potentest Queens of the East, that she had out of an im­perious humour refused the greatest Princes in the world, that such a match would be a blur to her honour, a grief to her Subjects, and make her a scorn to her neighbours, and to those Princes whom she had despised. That to think to enjoy him any other way, her vertue did prohibit, and she believed that her kingdome could not tempt his. Therefore she believed her love was to be despised, rejected and strove against, seeing it led her to such prejudice and inconveniencies. This made her resolve often to cha­stise her self, to hate her self, and to account her self worthy of ignomi­ny and scorn: sometimes she would banish him or confine him to his Pro­vince, or prohibit him the Court; and by banishing him out of her memo­ry, repress those flames his presence fomented. But this his innocency, and what he had done for her opposed; but chiefely love it self could not yield to his separation; that exsuscitated for its defence such thoughts as these: That although she were a Queen, and enjoyed all the riches, pomp and pleasure imaginable, yet that Love was a content that far furpassed them all, and so that if she should enjoy the greatest Prince on the earth, it could not render her so happy as the enjoyment of one she loved should, though ne're so mean. That Araterus considering the disparity would with­out doubt want the imperious humours of Princes, and make it the whole scope of his actions to serve her faithfully, and love her continually. That the gods never make any distinction of persons by their greatness, but by their goodness; not by their Nobility, but by their vertue, and that the meanest on earth if they follow the Precepts of vertue, are capable of an Apotheosis and deification: That seeing the gods respected not the Nobility of persons, so much as their vertue, they should endeavour to imitate them, for the nearer they appproached to the gods in their actions, the nearer they should be to them when extinct. That her greatness and regality de­pended on the mutual wheele of fortune, as if she should be cast from her Throne, there would be but little signe of her highness, greatness and rega­lity: That the Original of Soveranity was only usurpation, got by the sword and fortune, that in right the most vertuous should be the most noble. That she was able to make Araterus equal with the greatest Princes in the East, that what he had done for her had merited it, that his valor and vertue de­served it; that his person, both for behaviour and make, was not to be equalled, that there was nothing to be objected to him, but that he was no Prince, which her love was to dispense with. Between such diversity of thoughts she was continually cruciated, and made her undergo a torment that could not be eased by all those pleasures that accompany the conversati­ons of such eminent personages. These troubles continuing, put her into so deep a melancholy, that every body wondred at it, knowing it contra­ry to her nature and disposition. And for that she had not revealed it to any, she received the more torment and pain. Amongst all the Confidents, she had a kinswoman, whom she loved above her rest, and to whom she alwayes poured out all her secrets, but this she accounted so criminal, that she had not as yet spoken of it: However remembring the wisdome and good counsel she had alwayes found in Marina (so they called her) she was constrained after a long time of sadness to discover her thoughts to her, and commanded her to tell her what she was to do in that case. Marina (as Araterus knew from her own mouth afterwards) was surprized at the Queens [Page 266] discourse, and would fain have excused her self; but she pressing her, and reiterating her commands, she spake in these words.

I confess you may wonder that I have so faithfull a memory to recount things so many years ago acted, but I must tell you, that I had wrote down most of these things, knowing that if ever I should have the happiness of seeing you again, I should be obliged to relate these passages. And in my jorney that I made hither, I receiv'd my Notes, and gave them a new impress in my memory, that I might be able to recount to you these things faithfully and exactly. Let this then serve for all, that you may not be in­credulous, nor account my memory prodigious, though some things, were I to live eternally, I could never forget. Marina I say being constr [...]ined to it, spake in these terms.

Madam! I confess I am extremely unfit to advise you in a matter I had never any experience of, when it may be too, that I shall contradict your opinion, if I tell you I think there is no necessity or compulsion, but a generous and resolute soul may discuss, I mean, that we may disengage our selves from that troublesome passion, so much cryed out upon by all the world, when we will; if we resolve not to betray our selves to its al­lurements. This is so ticklish a subject, that I fear to speak any thing of it, lest if you follow my advice, and it should not succeed, you would put the blame upon my Councel, rather then on that inevitable fatalitie which oftentimes accompanys the transactions of love. It is very dangerous, Ma­dam, and I know that those who use to advise in such affairs, have that quality which I have not; that is, flattery: for 'tis alwayes known that those troubled with this passion that blinds the reason and understanding, though they ask the Counsel of others, and seem much to desire it, yet they sel­dome follow any but the dictates of their passion, or that which is a­greeable, or corresponds with their own inclinations. It may be you may wish that my Counsel may not be repugnant to your Love, or to say better, that I may flatter you, this might please best your passion, but not your reason, and so long as passion is strongest, those Counsels will be best pleasing that are most agreeable to it. I confess I had rather be silent, but seeing I must obey your commands, I think it my love and duty to speak my mind apert­ly and freely, without considering whether it be pleasing, so it be profitable. I confess my judgement may be weak, and I may not see so clearly into things as your self or others, yet seeing 'tis your pleasure to have my Coun­sel, I had rather err for lack of wisdome, and in sincerity, than out of interest and subtilty. In a word, Madam, what I advise is, that you give no enter­tainment to this passion, but seek to forget it with all possible speed you may, seek alwayes to divert your mind, let not your thoughts entertain themselves upon it, separate Araterus from your sight, for undoubtedly if you entertain it, 'twill do you more hurt than all those enemies you have subdued could, and so Araterus, though innocently, is a rebel, a traitor, and deprives you of your liberty. I cannot tell which would have been worse, the loss of your kingdome, or this which hath befallen you, if you do not speedily remedy it, for the privation of your reason, understanding and judgement, is worse than the loss of all the pleasure of sense, or what ever you now injoy, so that although Araterus hath given you your life and kingdome, he hath given you too these disquiets, that are less supportable than death, and by it he is be­come as great an enemy, as he was a friend. I know, Madam, that he is innocent, and I speak not this because I have any prejudice against him, I confess that he is worthy of all the honor and grace that your Majesty hath shewn him, and his merits cannot be too highly rewarded, but by your self. You love him, Madam, I know your vertue will not permit the least thought arise of any base and infamous injoyment of him: you would I know love [Page 267] him lawfully, and therefore you must seat him on the same Throne with your self. I confess I wish him a Crown that he might deserve you, for do but consider the difference between you, and you cannot but confess your action will be something unworthy of your self. I heard you say for your self, that the gods were no respecters of persons; What then? in this we are not to regard them so much as men, for things indifferent they leave to our own judgements and reason: I confess it is no sin for you to marry the meanest of your Subjects, neither is it any thing to the gods, but yet it would be an action that would render you a scorn to men. But I cannot but think that it is the will of the gods that Princes should joyn with Princes, and in my judgement it seems to be more agree­able to them, because they have a more peculiar care over them than over other men, they representing the persons and Majesty of the gods, and are exempt from punishments, but from the hand of heaven. The Queen here interrupting her Consident. I am much pleased with thy zeal (said she smising and blushing together) but thou dost see it hath carried thee from the purpose. Let me answer thee thy last inference, which is, that it is the will of the gods we should match with Princes, I am sure that it is the will of the gods that we should imitate their actions, Do not they I pray create Princes, and Kings, and not regarding greatness give it to the vertuous? And shall not I do so too, in matching with this generous stranger? If the vertuous be worthy of Crowns, why should we be ashamed to conser it on them? But what dost thou speak of the gods protecting of Princes more than others? be it so, is it for their own sakes, or for the sakes of those under them; 'Tis true, the gods do seem to have a greater care over Princes than every private man; Why? not because they are born great and noble, but because they rule others: so that in protecting and directing them, they protect and keep their whole kingdome: And I make no question, that if a begger came to the Crown (which must be by the help of the gods, or the in­fluencies of the stars, their inferior operators) the gods would more seem­ingly regard him on the Throne, or coming thereto, than before, because then they work generally, and their actions are more inspected; therefore it is not the person, but the place, or the person for the places sake, that the gods seem to have so extraordinary care of Princes more than others: And again the actions of Princes are more noted and inspected than others, every one looks what befalls them, and a little preservation makes a gene­ral rejoycing, being all interressed in the person of the Prince: And I am perswaded that if the actions and lives of many of the vulgars were known and inspected, the providential care of the gods would be no less seen than in those of the Prince. So that their protection will be no less favourable to Araterus when he is made a Prince, than if he were born so.

Love (saith Marina) can never be disputed against, for it alwayes fur­nishes its desenders with subtle and unanswerable arguments, I know I must cede to your judgement if you undertook to answer me, but let it be so then, Madam, that Araterus shall have the protection of the gods, if he hath yours, yet I shall never yield to think well of this amorous evil on which I have heard so many complaints, that I even tremble to think that you are infected with it. The Queen seeing her Consident so zealous in a cause she was ignorant of, smil'd, and told her she would do her utmost endeavours to decuss a passion which she could not approve of.

She did so indeed, love and reason continually combated, and she thought she had gain'd the victory; and to do it more effectually, she began to eloyn her self from Araterus; she very seldom saw him, she did not ca­ress him as she had used; and she used all the means she thought requisite for so hard a matter. But it was in vain for her to contest with so potent an ene­my, [Page 268] a Deity that overpowered her, and made her, spite of her teeth, break all her resolutions at the very sight of him; what ever she had resolved and in­tended, his sight carried so many charms that it made them fall to nothing. She saw at last that 'twas impossible for her to recover her former quietude, which made her tell Marina after many moneths disquiets and endeavours to follow her Councel, that her fate was inevitable, that there was nothing but death, or Araterus, that could terminate those pains and torments, that her passion made her undergo. Seeing that is so (said Marina, troubled at those continual agitations which she saw in the Queen) and that there is a necessity not to be avoided, that Araterus is destin'd to be your tormentor. Let us believe that 'tis not without a special design of heaven; lets seek to content you, quiet your passion, and make him happy. Madam, what ever aversion I have to this passion, added she, your interest shall make me plead for it, seeing you cannot follow my counsel, make use of me, and I will follow the Dictates of your love, for I profess it is impossible for me to see so much trouble in you, without endeavouring your content. The Queen imbraceing her, told her, that she should never do any thing unworthy her self, or contrary to the vertue she had profest, That she would sooner die than exhibite her passion, and that she wholly remitted her self into her hands, professing that she had rather die and banish Araterus, than blemish her ho­nour, although nothing in the world was more pleasant to her fight, and though it was impossible but that she must still love him. In the mean time Araterus perceiving the eloynment of the Queen, and being debar'd of that happiness of seeing her often, for all his hopes, fell into so deep a me­lancholy that all his friends perceiv'd it in his looks, and notwithstanding the caresses of Peomontile who affected him as much as if he had been his own son, and his other friends which his generosity and goodness had gained, he could not be comforted. But what ever they read in his face, he was too ad­vised to discover the least thought of his heart to any but me, and they all believed that it was an effect of his eloynment from his Countrey. This made all his friends use those divertisements which they thought capable to make him forget it, never a day but he was caressed in such high termes and manner, that the greatest Prince of the Orient could not have more. Sometimes musick, balls and dancing was his divertisement, sometimes run­ning with horses, sometime Charriot-races, sometimes fighting on Ele­phants, a pleasing and delightfull sport, and sometimes hunting: but all these being constrained, and contrary to his humour, it abated nothing of that sadness which triumpht over him. The Queen having not seen him a great while, being on purpose retired from the Court, with an intent to overcome her self, when she saw him, was wonderfully troubled to perceive those assured marks of trouble and sadness in his face, she could not forbear asking him if any one had disobliged him? Who had given him cause of discontent or anger? if that any of the Court had oppugn'd him? or any of her kingdome offended him? what it was he wanted; if that it was the remembrance of his Countrey? she told him what ever was in the kingdom was at his service, that he was amongst his friends, and that there was nothing in her power to grant him, but he might assure himself of it. To all which he answered, with a respect that such obliging speeches requir­ed. But still dissembling his trouble, he gave her very little satisfaction. Not being contented, she returns to Marina, and having opened her mind to her, and wondring at the trouble of Araterns, Love having alrea­dy made her suspitious, she by the advice of her Consident sent for me. One for that purpose having watched their opportunity, told me the Queen had commanded them to conduct me to her: wondring what should be the matter, I immediatly followed the Messenger, who having led me to the [Page 269] pallace, I was had into a chamber by one of Marina's Maids, where I found the Queen and Marina together. After that I shewed the respect that I ought, the Queen commanding me to rise, enquired of me for my master, for so I called him all the while I had been in that Countrey) and very dex­trously began to speak of the sadness she had noted in his face, which she said she believed was the effect of some discontent that he had taken, tel­ling me that his generosity having hid it from her, she believed I could not be ignorant of it, and that it was requisite she should know it, being best able to remove it, for she doubted not but that some of her subjects had given him some cause for discontent unjustly, and that I should therefore discover it, though my Masters generosity would not permit himself to do it, that she might punish the author of it, for an example to others. After I had heard this, I told her that 'twas requisite she should be obeyed in all things, that I was sorry I could not exactly obey her commands, for that I was ignorant that any of her subjects or any other had given him the least cause for discontent, that I believed he had so acquired their loves by her favours, that none would be so malicious as to do any extraordinary acti­on that might disquiet my master, and that I knew it was no small thing could move the tranquillity of his mind. This answer nothing satisfying, she prest me to tell her if that none o [...] her Subjects had given him any cause for this sadness, and whether I were ignorant of the cause of it? I knew not what to answer presently to this demand, but bethinking my self I told her, that certainly, that though her favours were so immense, as to make any man forget his own n [...]tive Countrey with joy, having the happiness to be entertained in her service, yet that I believed he could not remem­ber his friends without a just and unblameable regret, seeing at what a distance fortune had brought him from them. I know not what it was, whe­ther she could perceive any thing by my countenance, she did not believe me. She told me that Araterus had given her the knowledge of the pas­sages of his life, and that not being tyed by the bonds of affection, she did not believe those of nature could cause so great trouble: and that if it were so, she knew he would have desired her assistance for the reward of all his pains and good services, for to have returned into his Countrey. I replyed that it might be, he could not be so disrespectfull as yet, considering the esteem she had of him, and the favours she had done him, as to ask a thing which he imagined might be displeasing to her, that although he were inferior to no Prince in his own Countrey, and that the gods had given him an estate ac­cording to the Nobility of his birth, where he might injoy all the happi­nesses there, that he now enjoyed except her presence and service, yet I be­lieved that he preser'd that to all the rest, and made him so back-ward in asking a thing which he could not but desire. This I spake for the inte­rest of Araterus, and to beget a good opinion of his Nobility and birth in the Queen, which took very good effect, and much advantaged his love. I am sorry (said she) that Araterus never intimated thus much to me before, and I must lay all the blame on my ignorance that I have not respected him as I ought: I know, Madam, (replyed I) that he esteems your service the greatest honour and happiness in the world. That sha'nt excuse him (said she) for hiding from me his birth and quality. But is it so as you tell me, added she earnestly. I saw that it would be for the interest of Araterus, and if he prosecuted his Love, I thought it would be impossible otherwise to arrive at a happy end, thetefore being imboldened, I am­plified his birth, and gave her such an ingenuous relation of him, making him no less than a Prince, that I saw a kind of joy sparkling in her eyes, before I had finished my relation. Many things concerning his Countrey, and our adventures on the sea, she had heard from him before, and finding them to [Page 270] agree exactly with what I speak, she made no question of the rest, and be­lieved that he hid his birth out of a generous humour, having told her ne­ver any thing exactly of it. Have you told me every thing? (said she) have you omitted no passages. But one, Madam, (said I) which I am not sure that I may tell without an infidelity to my master. This made her the more pressing to know, and I at last seeming vanquished by her impo [...] ­tunities, told her how he met with a Prophesie that had fore-told him all had hapned to him since, and that there were somethings in it yet remain­ing to be effected, which it might be, was the cause of his grief, but that he kept them so secret, that I doubted I had been unfaithfull for speaking so much.

I thought, said she, that you were not ignorant of your Masters sadness, and I know not what good genius made me not to believe you: but for your fault you must of necessity tell me what it is. I seem [...]d extreme unwilling to tell her, though I did all this out of a design, but after that she had com­manded me many times, promising me that it should be no prejudice to me. I told her I thought it did not become me to captuilate with her highness, yet if it would please her Majesty not to ask me any more questions. I would an­swer her. I promise thee, said she. 'Tis love then Madam, said I, that caus­eth Araterus's trouble, I am conscious I have spoke too much, but neither entreaties nor torments shall extract any thin [...] more from my mouth; and I hope, Madam, that you will keep this last thing as a se [...]ret that I ought not to have told, lest the knowledge of it cause my master [...]o reward my in­fideli [...]y. At that instant that I told her the c [...]use of Araterus's sadness, the Queen changed her countenance, and notwithstanding her endeavours, she could not hide some alterations in her face: But I taking no notice of it, made her an obeisance for a chain of Diamonds which she caused to begiven me, and so dismist me, bidding me not to fear, but that she would do as I beg'd of her.

Returning presently to Araterus I gave him an exact account of what I had done, telling him the oppinion of his birth would prove very advanta [...]ious for his Love; neverthelesse I could hardly perswade him to acknowledg that for truth which I had spoke of him, so far was he from accumulating honors to himself which he was conscious did not belong to him, though he were as­sured that none there could convict him of an untruth. I was fain to tell him if he would not acknowledge what I had said of him for a verity, I should be accounted an impostor to the Queen, which would reflect on him and it may be bring himself into such disesteem as not to be believed, That what I had done was for his fidelity, that on it depended the good or bad success of his love, that 'twas impossible otherwise to arrive at the end propos'd That he would both ruin me and undoe himselfe, and both he looked upon I not better than impostors: with such like reasons I was forc'd to perswade him to a thing which others would have been too apt to have taken upon themselves in such a place and on such an occasion. The consideration of his Love was the chiefe motive that caused him to give his consent, and he had no sooner done it, but Peomontile came to his pallace to complement him from the Queen; and to tell him that she desired him to justifie him­selfe of a crime she had objected against him.

Our ignorance, my Lord (said Peomontile) must plead for your pardon that we have not rendered you those civilities which we ought, but truly we are hardly excusable, and our reason might have told us, that those actions we have seen, could not proceed but from a man of merit and of quality. It would have been a kind of injustice, my Lord, (replye [...] Araterus) for me to have mentioned my birth or nobillity, since the goodnesse of her Majesty hath raised me to that pitch of honour and glory that it hath obscured what­somever I was before: and I must professe whatsomever I hold of noble or High is from her donation. But lets go waite on he [...] Majesty, since she honour us with her presence. Peomontile is reselved to accompanying him, [Page 271] they went immediately to the Queen. She received Araterus with a ga­lantry peculiar to her selfe, and by a kind of gentle crimination blam'd him for dissembling his birth. Araterus answered her with wonderfull submissi­on and compliments, telling her that I had committed an error though glorious for him, yet unpardonable because it had put her Majesty to the trouble of taking notice of it, I am become Meador's protecteresse said the Queen) and since it is thorow my default that he hath confest it, you must not be so injust as to blame him for it. 'Tis by his pardon that you must acquit your self for the wrong you have done us, in making of us so disre­spectful to your quality by the ignorance of it. You may command me Madam (returned Araterus) and since you are bocome his protectriss, there's none in the world can hurt him: But I must professe that the honour you have done me was the thing that made me forget that I ever was, before I had the happinesse to see your Majesty. This convertation it may be might have lasted longer but that one of the officers of the Queens came to give her notice that some of the chiefe of the City whom she had sent for attended her pleasure. The Queen telling Araterus she would not be long e're she return'd, desired Marina to accompany him; and being led by Peo­montile she left Araterus. Marina after much ordinary discourse, being 'twas towards the evening, led him into the pallace Garden, where the beauty of the place found them discourse for some time, but at last having seated themselves in a house of pleasure in the midst of the Garden, you are indebted to me fair Marrina (said Araterus) a relation which by the [...]ueens consent and your owne promise you ought to have pay'd me before this: and this opportunity is so faire that I cannot let it slip without putting you in minde of it, and telling you that I am ready to hear it, if it will not be troublesome to you to relate it. Marina having nothing to say a­gainst so just a request told him she would deferre it no lon [...]er, but give him the content he desired, after she had sate silent a little time she began thus.

The Queen being the daughter of Amarisia King of this mighty domini­on, and a Princesse of the neither India, was brought up in her infancy ac­cording to the way and manner of this Kingdome. She had two younger sisters but they and her mother dying when she was very young, they left her to receive all the care and love of her father who indeed brought her up according to the tendernesse and delicatenesse of her spirit. Her beauty in her infancy gave an assured sign that 'twould be raire and admirable, and her wit in every thing was seen comparable. She had the features, and beauty of her mother, the wisdome and understanding of her father, the one being the beautifullest of her time, the other the wisest and most pru­dence of his, so that this conjunction in the daughter, gave the whole Kingdome hopes of an extream happinesse assoon as she was capable to Raigne, Amaisia as if he would not hinder her from making use of those gifts the Gods had given her, dyed. 'Tis five years since, and though she were then but fifteen, yet the whole Kingdome can testifie, they never enjoyned a more peaceable, and happy time, till those late warrs. Her prudence and wisdome being showne in a thousand occasions, both that the same of her beauty spreading thorow the whole East, begot her as many lo­vers and adorers as there were Princes in the Orient. There is hardly any of them but either came or sent to lay their Crowns at her feet, and all desired the happinesse of possessing her. All propositions of Marriage she carried with so much addresse, that she still kept her selfe free, and incensed none.

But at last the Prince of Sinana having heard of her by the mouth of fame thorow the large extent of his fathers dominions, came as others had done, with a traine sutable to the quality of so great a Prince, to Sinda. This [Page 272] Prince though indeed he is the most potent and mightiest in the world, yet pleased the Queen less then all the rest, of those that proffered her their service. For she having a noble and transcendent soule, regarded not so much the greatness of their Kingdomes, as the habit, and virtues of their minds. She had also a pierceing Judgment, and could take an exact know­ledge of their inclinations, by the least of their actions. She presently found this Prince of a most turbulent spirit, rash, heady, and fierce, which was very incon­sonant to her gentle disposition, which made her little regard either his beauty, handsomenesse, or greatnesse, believing that she could not be happy but with those, whose dispositions should agree with hers, as well as their affe­ctions. However she used him according to his birth, and though she had a great desire to be rid of him, yet she entertained him nobly, and royally. The Prince no sooner saw her, but being very susceptable it seems, fell in Love with those ardencies & impatiences, as she had not seen before, though truly Iam perswaded 'twas rather an effect of his ambition than his Love; & truly I think he lov'd his Kingdom better than her, and if I am not greatly mistaken 'twas that he sought, and these wars hath made it appear so. Neverthelesse the Queens speeches neither gave him hope nor dispare but using him gently according to her own nature, he remain'd with her agreat while. I will never stand to trouble you with the protestations of his love nor addresses, since they were all false & feign'd: but her replys were still modest, & agreeable to her condition. At last he grew so troublesome to her &, preffing, that she was fain a little to make shew of her dislike, and finding his humor imperious, and base, she saw that gentlenesse and gallantry could not work upon him. Likeing him worse every day than other, she would not permit him so often to see her as he used, and by many other wayes a well as words she shewed her dislike of him, though she entertained him with as great state as ever, and omitted nothing of formalities, for him to take exceptions at. But she continued her car­tiage so, that he too well saw he was slighted, which so dispighted him, that it inspired him with more heat and anger, than love: for he thought the Queen respecting his greatness would not have denyed his suit. Mad­ded as he was, he yet dissembled it, and caused the fight on the Elephants to be kept in the City in honor of the Queen proposing the effigies of the Queen for the prize, making no question but the adverse party would permit him to carry it away at last, being a usual partiality where rivals do not meet, if that he were not strong enough to oppose them. The Queen willing to make use of this occasion, sent for some of the chief of the adverse party, and charged them not to use their usual respect, but to do their utmost endeavour to obtain the prize. The thing was effected as she would wish, for when the sport was almost finish­ed, and that the Prince thought they would have retreated, and left him victor, he found himself deceived, for pressing forward with exceeding vio­lence they gain'd the place where the prize stood, and in spite of all resistance took it away, and according to direction offered it at the feet of the Queen, who gave them a chain of pearls and diamonds for a requital. The Prince was extremely vext at this disgrace, though he dissembled it as much as he could, but the Queen on every occasion brought it into his memory, and in a way of gallantry jeared him handsomly, but so as he could take no oc­casion to be angry. In fine having received many repulses, and beginning to dispair, seeing the averseness of the Queen, he began to set other instru­ments a work, and employing all his art and subtilty, by gaining those whom he perceived the King most favoured, and by exceeding rich gifts and presents, engaged them to fill the Queens ears with Encomiums, and to perswade her to marry him, by endeavouring to exhibit how advantagious it would be the kingdom. The Queen notwithstanding all this would not con­ent, but finding out his practises, detested him the more for such undue [Page 273] wayes and actions. Her prudence b [...]ook all his machinations, and rendred all his wayes fruitless, none da [...]ing at length to promote his designes. When he perceived that he had l [...]st himself, and that he despair'd of obtaining h [...], he beg [...]n to break forth into sury and rage, and his looks exhibiting the evil in [...]is heart, made the Queen so circumspect, that he found it im­possible to commit any out-rage or violence. Having assigned his depa [...]ture to the joy of the Queen, and ship'd most of his train, he prepared to take his leave, but chance favouring him, he did it in an extraordinary manner. That very morning which he intended to depart, the quarter where he lay not being far from the Queens, he was come to the gallery which looks into the garden to attend the Queens rising. It seems from that place he had espied, that one who attended the Queen came into the garden by a private pair of st [...]irs, which was alwayes bar'd up but at such time as the Queen made use of them, which was some evenings for her private recreations, or when she went to bath in the night. The Queen having gone that way but that night, those bars that render the passage secure were not put up, and the Prince knowing whether those stairs led, and seeing the door open by the maids negligence, had a desire to take leave of the Queen privately, that he might the better testifie his displeasure. Getting into the garden he ascends those stairs, and finding the passage free, he entred the Queens Chamber so unexpectedly, that we were amazed.

She was but just risen, and there being none but my self and two more of her Attendants with her, she was afraid. But whilst he stop'd to take a view of her neck and breasts, which were not covered, she recovered her surprize, and taking a Mantle which I gave her, she cast it about her neck, attending what the Prince would say. Rage was already painted in his looks, and for­getting all the respect which he ought to have had, he told her very boldly, that he was not to excuse himself, seeing fortune had so happily favoured his design, for breaking a civility which he was not ignorant of. That he could not say it was love that had caused that transport, but that it was the de­sire he had to propound one question to her, which was, Whether she would grant him that grace, for which he had so long sued, or to see her Kingdom destroyed with an Army of twenty-hundred-thousand men? The paleness which fear had painted in her Majesties cheeks, anger at this demand had converted into red, and answering with indignation, she told him, that it was impossible for him to gain that by threats, which he could not obtain by intreaties: That for her part she had long ago resolved in her self, that she had rather meet him as a soe, than consent to what he desired. And in fine, that she made no question, but that if his temerity did partici­pate him to such actions, she should find men enough to chastize him for his folly.

This answer so enraged him, that he could not distinctly speak a word more, but mutteringly we understood that he vowed he would be as good as his word, and make her sue for that, which now she so superbously denyed. Hastning thence, within an hour he had set sail, leaving the Queen very much satisfied with his departure, and very little fearing his threats. When he was arrived in his own Kingdomes, holding his resolutions, he sent an He­rald to denounce War against her, if that she had not bethought her self, and would not consent to his desires. The Queen sent him word, that she could not yield to his demands, but that if he would break that ancient League between the two Kingdomes, she should be ready to defend her self against all his threats add endeavours. After this she gave order to Peomontile for the mustering of her forces, and the raizing enough, sufficient to defend her Kingdome, which was done effectually, and augmented by your self for the Kingdomes happiness and your own glory, the gods having determined their subversion by your hand.

Araterus had but given her thanks for this which she had told him, when there came one to give them notice that the Queen was returned, to whom they presently went; Araterus spending that evening in her company; for some following dayes he was wholly taken up, in receiving the visits, cares­ses and complements of his friends, all of them testifying their resentments for his disguiseing himself, and that with so much address and civility, that he stood amazed to see it so far from Rome. The Queen desirous it should be known, caused it privated to be declared, so that it was soon known pub­lickly through the whole City, every one regarding him as a Prince, and worthy of that which he aspir'd to. And notwithstanding Araterus's desire to the contrary, she caused him to be served with more state, and after the man­ner of the Princes of that Countrey, encreasing both the number of his servants, and the riches of his pallace, so that his train and port was little less then the Queens, his quality stifling envy, that having a kind of respect to greatness. The Queen had now nothing to oppose against Araterus, and her joy had been compleat but for that which I had told her concerning him, that it was love that troubled him. This caused a new Certamen in her thoughts, she began to be jealous, she feared Marina, she thought on the fairest in the Court, she watched Araterus to see if she could discover her: she hoped it might be her self, and yet she feared to have it so, lest her severity should increpate his boldness. She was loth it should be any other, and yet she could not consent that it should be she, so that she feared what she desired. She found trouble enough in these Cap [...]icho's, but advising alwayes with Marina, they thought it best to discover it if they could, though she told the Queen, that she was confident none could be so power­full as to captivate Araterus but her self. Marina, the first opportunity sought to make me confess who it was, that was the object of Araterus's passion: I not daring to discover it, wond my self out of her intreaties, and told her that it would be no hard matter to draw it out of Araterus him­self, when that he had confes'd that he was in love: and that she might see I had rather hazard his displeasure, then not to content her, she might use her own discretion, whether she would tell him that I had intimated so much to enduce him to discover it himself. Not long after Marina being alone with Araterus, they sell into a discourse concerning the Prince of Si­nana, Araterus complaining that the gods had not furnisht that Prince with vertues sutable to his other qualities and greatness, that he might have been worthy of the happiness he sought for; calling it an oversight of the gods to give any one the goods of body and of fortune, and not those of the mind to employ them rightly, when all three conjoyn'd together, makes the Possessor happy, the one illustrating the other. Marina, who hath wit e­nough, told him, that it was a kind of impartiality of the gods so to distribute their favours, that none might be wanting of their gifts, and that (it may be) according to their own wishes, this man hath honour and riches, ano­ther beauty and wit, a third vertue and grace, all which in one man would be too much, and which is not seen in an age, every one contented with his own, shews the variety of gifts of the gods, and their impartiality. But faith she, were it in your choice, which would you chuse? I should quickly chuse those of the mind, before those of the body or fortune (replyed Araterus) for to have the other without the first, is to have the ring without the stone, and truly without wit, will, power, judgement, and the like, the goods of fortune cannot be made use of rightly, and they are rather fair beasts then men, but the most deformed man is more excellent than the loveliest beast, so in my judgement those that have the goods of the mind, are to be prefer'd to those that have either those of body or fortune: You speak not like a Lover (saith Marina) for he profers the object of his passion [Page 275] above all things, which you know is to be accounted amongst the goods of fortune, for if he sacrifices his life, and I am sure, he looses his reason, judgement and understanding, with all the goods of the mind. Fair Ma­rina, said he, I would not have you count me among these unreasonable men. No, saith she, I have observed of late a great [...]adness in your face, and I am apt to call all sad and melancholy men, Lovers, knowing it to be a great symptome of Love. Araterus would very fain have avoided this discourse, but Marina prest him so far, that he could not avoid telling her, that he e­steemed one more then all the world, and that (may be) it was that which was usually called Love. But he told her, that it had not made him loose his reason, nor understanding, for that he did it not so much out of in­clination, as choice. But when Marina would have known who his Mistriss was, he told her, secrecy was the first and chief rule of Love, and that to do so was to shew his disrespect to her he loved, by making known the unworthiness of her servant: whatever Marina said she could not draw him to a confession she so much desired, but contented her self that she knew from his own mouth that he loved, which gave the Queen more trou­ble than she thought she would have gained through her curiosity, being cru­cified betwixt hope and fear.

Half a year past away, Araterus still continuing in his estate, and continually burning in those amorous flames, which scorched his soul, more then the heat of the Countrey his body. The Queen was not free from the like cru­ciations, though every dayes conversation with him, gave her a clear sight that she was the object of his love. Love and her high humour had a long certamen, but at last love remained victor, and left her contented with the inclinations of her servant. The more she considered his vertues, the greater her ardencies grew, and was almost angry that his love had not forced his respect; for in all that height of honour he had not forgot himself, nor had the ardency of his affection made him oblivious of the Queen, he shewed her as much submission as at the first, and as much affection as would stand with respect. He was too quick-sighted not to perceive the affection of the Queen, and yer he forbore an agitation, which he had some perswasions might have been well accepted, but he contented himself that he had covertly given her to understand his affection, and that he saw she understood him. Their Conversation was alwayes free, and pleasing to each other, I remem­bred this above the rest, because it was remarkable for Araterus's discovery of himself. He was in the company of the Queen, when his love, causing a more then ordinary disquiet in his soul, exhibited a kind of sadness in his face, the Queen noteing it, I perceive (said she to him) that you have not forgot your Countrey nor your friends, their remembrance, notwith­standinging our endeavours, still exuscitate a melancholy that deprives you of the pleasures of your life, and frustrates all our devoyers to make you merry. The favours, Madam, replyed he, which I have received from your bounty, are capable of makeing one forget her native Countrey and friends without regret▪ I'le assure you I could not account my self more happy were I in my own Countrey in the midst of my friends and kindred, than I do at this time, having so free an access to your Majesty: and that which you did call melancholy was nothing but a muse which had carried me to the conside­ration of the immensity of your favours, and the meanness of my deserts. I can tell you how to pay whatsoever you think you are indebted to me, said the Queen. That is impossible, Madam, answered Araterus, were the whole world at my dispose. 'Tis very easie, said she, for it is but the resolving of one question. That's too easie indeed, Madam, replyed he, to repay the least of your favours: you may command it if you please, and assure your self of a resolution if't be in my power. It is enough, said she, this is that [Page 276] which I desire to know then, you have confest to Marina that you affected a Lady of this Court, I would desire to know who she is, that I may cause her to accept of your love and services. Araterus was startled at this que­stion, not imagining that the Queen would have asked it, and not know­ing what to answer he stood confused a great while. Study no excuse, said the Queen) for you have promised to resolve me, if it were in your pow­er, and this I am sure is, therefore I expect you should not vary from your word, but tell me directly. I will seek for no excuse, replyed Araterus, since you prohibit it, but I must crave your pardon, If I beg you to add this to the rest of your favours, to remit this question, for it will be too much honour for me, and too much trouble to your self, to take notice of my Loves. And for the favour you profer, I am not capable to receive it, my love extending only to admiration, not to any possession or enjoyment. Whether I can do you any favour or no, it matters not, however you must satisfie my desire, said the Queen. I am willing to do it, Madam, said he, but I fear lest in doing it, I shall purchase your displeasure, and cause you to wish that you had not desired it: for I profess, Madam, that the ob­ject of my love is of so eminent condition, that I ought not to proceed fur­ther than admiration, and to obey out of duty and respect. You cannot think that I will be angry, said she, at a thing that I command. I fear it, Madam, said Araterus, for what, and if such a wretch as my self should confess that you were the object of his passion, would not you be extremely angry at his audacity? my crime will be the same if you commanded a con­fession of my love. The queen knew not what to answer, she saw he had confest enough, and she knew not how to behave her self; whilst she re­main'd in this confusion Araterus casting himself at her feet, I see, Madam, said he, that I have offended you, what should I have done if I had confest? alas! you may easily know how to revenge your self on my folly, my life is at your disposal: I assure you I can dye without regret, because it will be glorious that I dye for obeying you. The queen was in such confusion that she knew not how to speak, but permitting him in that posture, he was seen so by the queens uncle, who comming in suddenly put a period to their discovery any further. They were both exceedingly troubled that Peomon­tile had seen Araterus in that posture, for he shewed that he wondred at the action, but it brought forth a good effect, and rendred them both happy ac­cording to their wishes. Araterus taking his leave, departed, leaving Pe­omontile with the Queen, who presently desired to know the meaning of Araterus's action. The queen knowing the vertues of her uncle, and re­solving, if she could possible, to regulate her affection according to his coun­sel, told him all that had passed between▪ Araterus and her self, omit­ting nothing either of her desires or trouble. Peomontile after he had considered what she had said, told her for his part, he agreed with her choice, and that he did believe the vertues of Araterus had made him worthy of the honour, and that he doubted not but that it would re­dound to the happiness of the kingdome, he seeing as it were a special hand of the gods guiding him from so remote Countries to theirs; and which he hoped might be for their future happiness. And lastly, that if she resolved to admit him to the Throne, he would endeavour the accomplishment of it to the content of all, and that she should leave the management wholly to him. This extremely rejoycing the queen, she consented to what he said, and remitted the management of it to him, desiring him to carry it so, that it might be no blur to her honour nor quality, for that he had ra­ther die the Martyr of love, than commit any indiscrete action. Being it was requisit that Araterus was to be made acquainted with it, Peomontile sent for him, and after he had made him acquainted with the queens resolutions, he [Page 277] told him that he should find him ready to serve him cordially. You may judge into what an extasie of joy this news cast him in, he presently ran to the Queen, and falling at her feet, protested that the possession of that Crown wherewith she intended to invest him was invaluable, and disregard­ed by him, but the possession of her self rendred him so happy, that he would not change condition with the gods. That the whole world was dis­re [...]arded by him, as being nothing comparable to her: That if the gods had been studious to have made him the happiest man on the earth, they could not have more fuller effected it than by her possession. The Queen gave him a gracious reception, and with a pleasing brow, gave him her hand, a sign that she confirmed her self his, and upon which he seal'd the first impressa's o [...] his love, with such rapts of joy, that suffocated the pleasure he re­ceiv'd.

There was nothing now to be hone, but that Peomontile might render their desire pleasing to the whole kingdome, and that according to the Lawes of the Land, it might be according to the consent of the Council, for the Queen was studious to observe all the ancient Lawes and customes of the Relam. Therefore nothing could be done till the meeting of the Council, which was to be some few moneths after, in the mean time Araterus and the Queen, making known their affections, breathed continually in the air of joyes and delights, and both as 'twere conspiring in one, made a harmony by the conjunction of their souls.

Araterus (not being unmindfull of his friends advanc'd them to dignities and honors; and amongst the rest Cleopotulus, our first entertainer was re­ceived into the favour of the queen, and restored to all his former places and dignities.

The time at last came, and the grand Council of the kingdome met: Af­ter they had spent some dayes in their Ceremonies, and had made an en­trance into their affairs, Peomontile very secretly caused the marriage of the queen to be moved in counsel, and after some debates it was concluded that the desire of the Council should be drawn up in a petitory way, and pre­sented to the queen, wherein they would desire her for the good of her people to enter into the conjugal state, and to be pleased to make her choice of any of those Princes that had so long sued to her for that grace, whilst the Council was convocated, that they might accerding to the antique Custome give their approbation and consent. This was done accordingly, and delivered to the queen, who by the instructions of Peomontile the next day went to the Council, and having given them thanks for the care of the welfare of her people, she told them that for her part there was nothing but the good and felicity of her people, that could make her change a condition in which she found so much happiness and content, and to share a kingdome, and resign some part of her liberty, when she might rule freely and alone: But having no other interests, but those of her people, she was both free and ready, to do any thing that might be conducing to their happiness and welfare. That therefore she was willing to submit to the yoak of marriage, because thar state wherein she was would frustrate the expectations, and hinder the happiness of her people. And that they might see how clearly she made their interests hers, and how studious she was to render them happy in her choice, and how willing to observe all customes, she remitted it wholly to her Uncle and them, and looked whom they pitched upon, without any other considerations than those of the good of her people, (which she was sure they would endeavour) she would admit him into her Throne and bed. They all exceedingly applauded this speech of the queens, and having given her thanks for the honour she did them, they told her it would be too much presumption in them to make that choice which she left to them, that they [Page 278] were only to confirm, and not to elige, and that therefore she would be pleased to nominate him her self whom she would account worthy of that dignity. She replyed, that she resolved already to stand to what they should decree, and that she left the whole dispose of it to Peomontile and them­selves: having said this she left them, all praising her for the best of Queens, and happiest of Princes. She being departed, and seeing that 'twas left to them, they all began to consider on whom they might pitch. Some pre­sently declared for the Prince of Sinana, raising up their old interests, saying, that although they had been at Wars, yet the peace being concluded, it would be a greater honour for the Queen to accept of him now, when they might see that it was not any thing but the Queens greatness and magnanimi­ty that made her refuse him, being able to withstand him, and that she might declare that none could compell her to what they desired, that there­by they purchast the amity of the greatest, formidablest and richest Mo­narch in the world. But this was oppos'd by most, who renewed the rea­sons afore the War, and made known the indignation of the Queen to him above any, and that the Queen could not have imagined that any would have proposed him. Others, they nominated the Prince of Cuipumoe, vicinity be­ing their chief motives: Others, the Prince of Jarequee: fairness and features being their chief motive: Others, the Prince Marchacin; without Ganges wisdome and prudence being their chief motives. Others, the King of Can [...]bojaa: strength and prowess being theirs: many others were nominated, every one bringing reasons for their choice, which were also by others op­posed as strongly. At last Peomontile nominated Araterus, giving many rea­sons for it, which was seconded by Clcopotulus, and many other friends of Araterus's, but most opposed him, and especially Maurishia, one who had not declared for any, endeavouring to overthrow Peomontile's arguments. This Maurishia was father to Marina, and one who envied Araterus's glo­ry more than any other which was the chiefest motive that made him de­clare against him, and being very plausible in his tongue, he drew most to his side against Araterus. The Council being much divided, debated it till the time of breaking of, and ordering it against the next day they broke up, every one believing that it was not without the queens consent and knowledge that Peomontile nominated Araterus.

The next day they met again, every one desiring to promote their inte­rests: when they had begun their debates, Peomontile told them, tha [...] he was joyn'd to them in an especial mavner by the Queen: that they should consider well on him, whom he had nominated, that they should all say aside their private interests, and respect only the good and welfare of the kingdome. That it was a weighty affair, and therefore that they should not passionately, and without deliberation proceed to any thing: That his whole endeavours were for the good of the people, and welfare of the R [...]lm, that for that end he had nominated Araterus, being utterly against the admis­sion of forraign Princes, for those reasons which he had delivered, when they had pleaded for the marriage of the Prince of Sinana. And lastly, that he was very willing to hear what they had to say against it, that he might en­deavour to satisfie them in his choice, or cede to their judgements, if he perceived that they were more consonant to reason. After a little pause, Maurishia seeing they looked upon him, he having most opposed it the day before, stood up, and delivered himself in these terms.

Meador here made a little stop, but presently beginning again; you may very well think my memory very prodigious (said he) if that I could ren­der you a speech of some length delivered so many years since: I must let you know that the queen believing there would be so strong debates that day, commanded one (that she retained only for his speed in writing, being able [Page 279] through the help of certain brief Characters that he used, to write as fast as any spake, if he spake deliberately) to be conveighed into a private place hard by the Council, where he might hear perfectly, and where he wrote verbatim what was spoken, which having been copied out fair for the Queen, after she had perused it, she gave it to Araterus, who keeping it by him, gave it me when I returned from those Countries, that there might not be any thing wanting in my relation. In saying this, he ripped a part of his sleeve, and took out certain Papers which were written with strange characters, from the top downward. After Euripedes, Argelois, and the Princesses had satis­fied themselves with beholding them, they delivered them again to Meador who translated them into his vernacular speech, and made them speak thus.

Peomontile having heard Maurishia with a great deal of impatiency, seeing him thus conclude, and having an excellent memory, he thus reanswered.

After the reading of this letter, Meador went on. Having, said he, re­ceived this letter, we parted, after I had promised that he should hear from you as soon as I was returned. Leaving Sinda I began my voyage, and by the care and tuition of the gods, passed through all those large Kingdomes be­twixt this place and the East, presenting the Kings and [...]rinces of the Coun­tries with Presents that bought our way through their dominions. After long and tedious travel I arrived in Cilicia with that joy that every one hath to behold his native Countrey after so tedious a separation. But my joyes were soon quelled, when I heard by my friend of your disastors, and leaving of your habitation. This made me dispose of many of those servants that came with me, keeping but a few of them; and knowing a trusty f [...]iend of mine, I committed the treasure that I brought with me, (being but five Camels load, the remainder of that which had bought our passage through the East, but it was of the choicest and richest things that I had) into his hands, but without discovering the treasure I trusted him with, lest so great a temptation might overthrow his fidelity. All the perswasions of my friends could not detain me from seeking you, which I did, help'd also by my friends, enquiring through all the Neighbour Countries, Cities and Towns, but after many moneths search in vain, I returned, not so much as hearing any newes of you. To content my friends, I stayed almost a year with them; but not enjoying my self without you, I took a special care to secure that treasure which I preserv'd still untouch'd for you, which being laid up safe, without the knowledge of any of my friends, I departed, having vowed never to return, till I had either found you out, or heard cer­tainly of your death. Having in this resolution searched through all Cilicia, Capadocia, Paphlagonia, and through all the lesser Asia; I passed over to Greece, and searching thorow all those Provinces in vain, I returned to Asia again sorrowfull and dejected: But coasting all long Pontus, and visiting these parts, I fell very dangerously sick, when meeting with the man you found tormenting me, whose name is Proculus, he very generously, after some small acquaintance conducted me to his house, which is not far from this place, where I indured a sharp and tedious sickness, but so carefully and tenderly looked after by him, that I was in an especial manner engaged to him. After I began to be well, not believing any thing had been able to shake that love in him which I had beheld so strong, I gave him (to grati­fie him) the best relation of all my past adventures. But O the power of that Stygian vice, avarice, which is able to convert love into hatred, and make friends turn foes, and take away that life which they have preserved: This was the cause of my stripes and tormenting, for he having heard of the Treasure which I brought with me, (for I concealed not any thing from him) it so troubled and tormented his mind, that he could not be satisfied without it, such was his thirst of gain. He at first sought by all fly and cun­ning means to pump of me in what place I had hid it, and whom I had en­trusted with it, his enquiry made me mistrust him, and I was now very sorry [Page 289] that I had spoken any rhing of it, my heart misgiving me some disaster, so that his inquiries were in vain, for I still left him unsatisfied. But when he per­ceived that I grew well, and that I was about to leave him, he in plaine terms told me, that he must know where the Treasure was, counselling me to devide it betwixt us, seeing you, (as he said) after so many years search not heard of, were in all likelyhood dead and rotten, so that it belonged to me, and to him in preserving my life. But when he saw threats would not do, he sought to extort it out of me by torments, which he also found too weak to break my resolution, for he had in that place which you found me in, in the like manner tormented me thrice before, which so enraged him, that he had sworn I should never return to his house alive, if I would not confess it to him, which I resolved not to do, though I had suffered an hun­dred deaths: And I verily believe he would have been as good as his word, if that the gods miraculously had not sent you to my relief, and out of such afflictions brought me to my investigated happiness. A happiness I have sought for this five years, it being so much since I returned out of the East, therefore it cannot repent me of my torments, which hath been the means to my finding of my Master. Meador thus ended his narration, which had given great content to the Princesses to hear Araterus's story, to end with so much pleasure and solace. But the day beginning to decline after they had engaged Euripedes and Lonoxia to visit them at their Castle, they departed. The Cha­rioter being returned to the entrance of the grove, according as they had ap­pointed, the Princesses mounted their Chariot, and Tribulus and Argelois their horses, which being done, they presently arrived at the Castle, whose Gates stood wide open to receive the beauties and the glories of the East.