IN the famous Island of Cyprus, at that time of the day when the bright Charioteer of Heaven had almost finished his Career, the Prince Evagoras, with the Lord Corian­der his faithful Friend, walked upon the Golden Sands by the Sea-side, between Paphos and Ama­thusia, and thus entertained one another with their past Calamities: My dear Coriander, said Evagoras, what an unfortunate Prince am I, thus to be deprived of my Kingdom, and to be con­strained to live unlike my self, that I might con­tinue unknown to the Tyrant Aphistamenus? Whom my Royal Father, in my absence, left at the Helm of Government? Alas, I too soon in my Travels, heard the fatal news of the King my Fathers death. But you know Coriander, what [Page 2]a spur it was to make me come homewards, when I heard that Aphistamenus ruled in my absence; yet when I did come, was it not too late? Had he not already made most of my Subjects believe I was dead? And with an impudence not to be parallel'd, did he not endeavour to face me out, that I was not the true Evagoras; [...] that be­cause I resembled him, I would usurp his Name to raise my self to Kingly Power? Did he not infuse this into most of my Subjects minds? who were so credulous as to believe him. Did I not strait raise what Forces I could, to end this tu­mult, and let them know a true Prince from an Usurper? Did not the too great multitudes of his men, in the last Battel we fought, did they not force us to give back with much loss? And you also know, that when I found my self uncapable of raising new Armies, that I caused a general rumor to be spread, that I was reti­red to Sicily. And in a disguise, that may not discover us in our solitary abode here between Paphos and Amathusia, we taste as much con­tent as we might discontent at Court. Here (Co­riander) is no body to molest us; Ambition is a stranger here; and Honour, the aim of haugh­ty minds, hath here no more than its Name left. Here we are troubled with no daily fears, nor tow'ring-thoughts to enlarge our Empire, by making new Conquests. A small spot of ground limits our high desires. But ah Corian­der, I could weep almost when I think, as I have since been informed, that my Father when I was very young, having designed me to espouse the [Page 3]young Princess of Sicily; I am almost ready to weep, I say, to think, that that lovely Flower should fade before it had flourished three years. How agreeable this alliance would have been to me, had Heavens spared her, its easie to ima­gine; for we had been both of an age, and in probability, by the relation of all that have seen her, she would have been the greatest prodigy of Beauty, as ever nature framed; how great then would have been my felicity? While they were thus seriously discoursing of their unhappy fate, Evagoras (who had disguised his Name as well as Garb for his better concealment, by calling himself Agenoris, and by giving his Friend Coriander the name of Clidamant) espied at no small distance from the shore, something float­ing upon the Sea, which they could not well descry what to be, till the Wind by little and little drove it towards the Land; and then they saw it was a man, who by some si­nister accident had been exposed to the fury of that boysterous Element; at length by the help of the Wind he reached the shore, with both his hands fast clinch'd to a Casket, which alone seemed to befriend him, in this his desperate condition. Though he was void of all symptoms of life, yet when these noble Companions had both taken a more near survey of his person, which was extream lovely and beautiful; and after they had spent some time in admiration of him, which they indeed esteemed worth their wonder, they soon (when they had endeavou­red by lifting him up, and holding his head [Page 4]downward, to make the water which he had swallowed run out of his body) caused him to be conveyed to the place of their Residence, where he was scarce arrived before some signs of life appeared; and by degrees he became sensible, insomuch, that at length by the help of some Cordials wherewith they comforted him, he could walk; and after he had returned them thanks sutable to the courtisie he received from them, and had been informed of the Name of the Country wherein he was arrived, he beg­ged the favour of them, to furnish him with some dry attire to wear, which was ready for him before he desired it. So leaving him to repose his wearied Limbs on a Bed which they on pur­pose designed for him. The evening being most serene and pleasant, calm and silent, the Sun ma­king preparation to abscond his beautiful visage behind the Western Hills, and bid adieu to the upper Hemisphere till his new approach; they went to take a turn in the Grove of Venus, which for delight and pleasure hath not its like in the Universe. The Castle wherein these illustrious Guests resided, is seated by the side of this Grove, the Trees whereof are of Mirtle; a place truly ravishing, as well for the extent and compass of it, as for those comfortable and refreshing shades with which it did plentifully abound, for the Leaves and fair spreading Branches of the Trees are naturally so united, and spread so cu­riously over the Valleys, that you seem to walk under chearful green Arbours. I know not whe­ther it may be more the Masterpiece of Art or [Page 5]Nature, but Art hath so subtilly imitated Na­ture, and Nature hath so sweetly play'd the Ar­tist, that it would be something difficult to judg; though in either it is truly admirable. In the midst of this Grove is a stately Mount, as well for its heigth, as for the Trees which surround it, which are the same with the rest, but do grow in such manner, that it maketh it in form of a Labyrinth; for in every green Valley you enter, you continue still ascending till you have reached the top, but with such pretty turnings and wind­ings, that it is an object both of wonder and plea­sure. On the top is a Lodg encompassed with Cyprus Trees, in manner of a Circle, from whence your Eye hath a full and free prospect over the whole Wood to the Sea; which cannot chuse but be a lively Landskip of Nature. Near this Lodg it was, where Agenoris and Clidamant were walking, when a Voice exceeding delecta­ble approached their unprepared Ears, and seem­ed to proceed from the Lodg, where as yet they were not arrived; they made a stop, that they might hear it with more freedom, and ne­ver did any thing surprize their Senses in the like manner; it was such incomparable Vocal Musick, that it seemed rather to be caused by some Heavenly Object, than by any thing that was Earthly. And by reason of the shrilness of the Voice, they could give no other judgment, but if the party was of Nature's forming, it could be no other than a Woman; though she seemed to be endued with most Divine per­fections. The more willing attention their Ears [Page 6]gave to it, the more willing were they to con­tinue a patient Ear. Agenoris appeared to be in such a rapture, that he imagined his Senses would deprive him of any further pleasure, by their readiness to forsake him. Such was the super­natural power and charming efficacy of this Ce­lestial Nimph's Voice. Agenoris was unable to contain himself, till he had blessed his sight with what he undoubtedly judged to be most mira­culous; concluding her Person to be as Divine as was her Voice: But yet like one enchanted, he could not move till he had heard her make an end of what she had just begun; which were the words following, sung beyond expression.

Scarce was the Song ended, but Agenoris peep­ed through the Trees, to get a sight of the Sin­ger; which he did, for her Face was opposite to that part wherein they were; and there be­ing but a single Row of Trees between, he might with ease behold her; which when he had done, O Gods, cried he to Clidamant, see yonder, the sweetest object that ever mortal beheld! what blushing Roses and lovely Lillies dwell in that amiable Face! Sure she is some Goddess, de­scended from the upper Regions, to delight her self in these cooler shades. It is impossible but she must be more than humane; her Beauty is beyond all that can be called Common. Ah Cli­damant, [Page 8]in that sparkling Eye such Majesty is seated, as doth add a glorious lustre to the rest of her numberless number of perfections. Cli­damant, I must, I can find no repose till I am nearer her person, that from her own Lips I may know, if a Goddess she be, as she really seems; after what manner she desires to be ado­red, that I may so do it, as to render Adoration acceptable to her; to that end, let us endea­vour to enter the Lodg where she now is. Cli­damant soon consented to the desire of Agenoris, and went round about into the Lodg, where they expected to have found this fair unknown one; but alas it was too late, for before they could come to her, she was gone from thence by ano­ther turning; which when Agenoris saw, he turn­ed pale, and looked as if he was going to breath out his life. I could wish, said he to Clidamant, in a faint note, that I had seen her once more, for I find my desire as yet hath found no limits; but why, I cannot tell, except it be to discover new perfections; though I confess I am too cu­rious in that, because that what I have already seen, hath left an impression deep enough in me. Should it now turn to Love, in what a misera­ble condition am I? who knoweth not so much as where to find the object loved. I fear I am past cure already; and now I wish I had not ga­zed on her so much; and yet methinks I wish I could see her once more. How restless am I grown of a sudden. Is it the Original of a grow­ing Passion? or is it only a curious desire of see­ing again what Fate has deny'd me, that renders [Page 9]me thus impatient? Surely something above the nature of Curiosity has seized me? or else I should never have found so great an alteration in me. Methinks the Divine Idea of this pretty Nimph hath taken so sure a dwelling in my mind, that for my life I cannot wipe her out. And some­thing I feel to sting my heart, which doth both pain and delight me; for sometimes the plea­sure is counterballanced by an excessive pain, and the pain again is eased by a sensible pleasure; and then it is subject to such violent Pantings, as if it would force a passage through my body. Have you ever been in Love Clidamant? If you have, pray acquaint me how this passion rules us, and whether what I now tell you, doth bear resemblance with it; for I do not remember, that ever I felt the like agony before. No, repli­ed Clidamant, I never yet did love, and I hope I never shall submit to what is so destructive to repose, and the most noble part of man, the Soul: But by what I have been informed, by those that have tasted the bitterness of it, I find I have too much reason to fear, that the sight of this unknown one hath (Heaven grant it hath not) seduced your reason; and if so, think of the frailty and inconstancy of that Sex, think I say of Woman; and if you judg right, which you will if you place your Reason in the same place it was, you will scorn to love so mean a thing as Woman, but will aspire to something more Heroick and Noble. What you call Love, if you summon but your Reason to appear, and [Page 10]make use of your Judgment to discern the truth, you will find, that you have abused that Name for something as much inferior to it, as a Peeble to a Diamond. Unkind Clidamant, said Age­noris; not only unkind, but unjust, thus to pro­phane that sweet Emblem of Heaven. Had you called them destroyers of poor men, nay had you called them Murderers, I could better have endured to have heard it, than to hear them named Frail, Inconstant, and Mean; and thus to abuse a Passion that is as spotless as Inno­cence, innocent as Virtue, virtuous as Humility, and as pure as Chastity it self. And since I find I must cherish the fore that pains me, my com­fort is, that it was occasioned by so splendid and transcendently beautiful an object. You, re­plied Clidamant, who have often conversed with the fairest Ladies in Asia, both at home and a­broad; you who in the Field have smiled when Blood and Death hath encompassed you, will you stoop to the soft Enchantments of a Woman; remember, great Sir, that now it is the worst of times to submit to Love. You must cast a­way the Banner of Venus, and bravely put on that of Mars. Now is the time, because the present state of affairs requires it. Appear once more in the Field, Sir, and let Aphistamenus see, how much your great heart disdains him. This, and much more he said, to cause that rising Flame to cease, that had already possessed him; but it was all unavailable, for it did but make it burn the fier­cer. After they had entertained each other, with these and the like Discourses for some time, [Page 11]they thought upon the Stranger, and went strait towards the Castle, and entred both into his Chamber, whom they found awake; they first made an apology for their long absence from him, and afterwards asked him, if he had found any refreshment since they left him. His an­swers were so exceeding courteous and obliging to what they demanded, that he even charmed Agenoris and Clidamant, with the sweetness of his behaviour; Agenoris had already so great an esteem for him, and Clidamant thought he saw something so singular in him, that he could not forbear acquainting him, how de­sirous he was to be ranked among the number of his choicest friends; wherefore with much humility he beg'd the favour, to know how he should call-what he so dearly esteemed. Sir, replied he, I cannot but be very sensible how much your noble Friendship exceeds my poor deserts, who am no other than a Stranger to you both; however since you have conferred the honour of your Friendship on me, I find my inclination not undisposed to embrace so great a happiness; unless it be because I know my self as yet not to have merited it. He seem­ed to have a special amity for Clidamant, and no small respect for Agenoris, though his Eye was ever fixed on the first, with a more than ordinary outward show of tenderness; and in truth it may be said, that Friendship never appear'd to be more sincere than it did afterwards between Clidamant and this pretty Youth. They desired at length of him the knowledg of his late mis­fortune; [Page 12]whereto he gave them some satisfacti­on, though but small; and they were loath to press him too much, because they perceived by the measures he used, that he had some most urgent reason to conceal the greatest part of his adventures from them; notwithstanding he told them, that if they pleased they might call him by the name of Theocles, and that his Father was Governor of a Town in the neighbouring Island called Creet; and that his occasions calling him to sail for Lydia, the Ship wherein he was being, driven upon the Cyprian Coasts by contrary winds and foul weather, it chanced to run with great violence against a Rock, where it split all to pieces; and that when he found himself ex­posed to the merciless Seas, that it was his lucky fate to lay hold of a small Box, which he be­lieved the Mariners had cast over-board with many other Goods to lighten the Vessel, and which he now perceived to be his own; by the aid whereof it appeared that he was carried above the water towards the shore, where they had found him: And now, said he, how sensible I am of those courtesies I have received from you, nothing but my own grief can express, for not knowing in what manner to repay them; and indeed they do far exceed what-ever can be of­fered. They both of them in the most obliging language they could, were paying him their ac­knowledgments for what he had now related to them, when they judged it time to retire, by rea­son the night was pretty well wasted away; and therefore after the usual Ceremonies in such cases, [Page 13]they left him to his repose to seek their own. But before the Sun had drunk up the Morning-dew, they arose with an intention to entertain him, and were scarce entred his Chamber when Agenoris espied his fair Kinswoman Emilia, al­ready performing the Office he designed to do a person endued with all the choicest Gifts of Na­ture. I need not make a particular description of her Perfections, since it is but guessing what might be thought most worthy of admiration to judg of her. In the time the Court flourished, she was thought by all that beheld her, to out­shine the brightest Star there. She followed her Kinsman Agenoris where-ever his destiny led him, and was now an Inhabitant with him in his soli­tude; as were also two Illustrious Gentlemen who were her faithful Adorers; they both equal­ly admired her, whereby they forsook the for­mer friendship in which they lived, and became Rivals, and by consequence enemies one of ano­ther. They neither of them yet had revealed their griefs to her, but by their sighs and eyes, of which she did ever seem to take little notice. The name of the one was Periander, who indeed was of an age that could add no great lustre to Love. The other was called Orontus, a person endued with great Merit, and one whose Youth did seem to argue on his behalf, what the wasted years of the former seemed to oppose.

Agenoris with his Friend and Kinswoman, after very pleasant discourses of Gallantry (Theocles not being in a condition to make up the num­ber to help to pass away the time) all unani­mously [Page 14]agreed to take a walk in the Plain that fronted the Grove; wherefore all retiring to a private corner of the Chamber till Theocles was dressed, which was not very long, they went to execute this their design with very much content and pleasure; only there appeared a small altera­tion in the brow of Agenoris ever since he had seen the unknown Lady, insomuch that he found some difficulty to suit himself to the chearful humors of the rest of the company. They had not walked far under the tuition of a pretty row of Trees, that elevated their ambitious branches over the middle of the Plain, but they were surprized with a clashing of Swords which they heard on the other side. Agenoris and Cli­damant were presently so curious, as to the ha­zard of themselves, to discover who they might be; and to their no small trouble, they found it was Orontus and Periander, and with ease pre­sently imagined the original cause of this Com­bat, and did not unjustly attribute it to Emilia: they had scarce spied Agenoris, but more out of respect to him, than a good will to themselves, they desisted fighting. After he had embraced, and solicitated them to be friends, he brought them to the rest of the company; where, when he came, he revealed it all to Emilia, who had long suspected what she then knew. Agenoris therefore conjured her to decide the contro­versy, since it was she, and none but she could do it; and withal desired to know of them whe­ther they would willingly submit to her judg­ment, since they must not both expect to be [Page 15]equally loved by her: to which they with much seeming willingness answered affirmatively. Thereupon Emilia bid Orontus hope, but not so much as should make him presumptuous: and she desired Periander neither to despair nor hope, but to content himself with a mean be­tween both. They would have replied to her speech, which they reckoned dubious, had she not beckned to them to be silent; and then she proceeded, and desired them to urge her to say no more upon that subject, and to let their minds rest satisfied with it; and withal gave them a severe check for quarrelling, and a strict com­mand to abstain from the same for the future, under the penalty of being utterly banished from her presence: And she farther said, if you both love me as you pretend you do, you will be mindful of the last injunction I have laid on you. By their silence they seemed to acknow­ledg themselves guilty, and to manifest how much they dreaded to offend her. Agenoris was something displeased with Emilia, and did even almost chide her for giving them so little satis­faction: however, what she had now sayed, she would neither revoke nor enlarge upon.

When they had fetched two or three turns in the Plain, they deserted it, to resort a­gain to the Castle, which was their only House of Pleasure; though Agenoris enjoyed but little in it, since his heart was first filled with Love; and as the hours, minutes and days encreased, so did a deep melancholy in the spirit of Agenoris, to the great affliction of all his Illustrious Friends, [Page 16]who never omitted any thing that might tend to his diversion. One day, among others, to pleasure him, Clidamant, Orontus, and the rest consulted, because the heat of the weather made it not un­seasonable, to go and bath themselves in a pure Cristal-stream, which was privately seated near the wood, and shaded with many goodly Sicamore-trees; the very place did seem to invite them to it; they went and took Theocles with them, who would have excused himself upon pretence of staying at home to entertain Emilia and some other Ladies of her Train during their absence; but they would admit of no excuse, because they desiree Periander to perform that office. Orontus would fain have accompanied him, if the Com­pany would have permitted him, but they abso­lutely refused it; so that he was constrained to give them an unwilling obedience, and to be one among them. When they were arrived at the place where they were going, they all began to discharge themselves of their apparel, except Theocles, who would by no means be perswaded to uncase him; no arguments were strong enough to make him condescend to it; the water, he said, did not agree with him, and that he could promise himself no great pleasure by it: How­ever, at length, after many entreaties, and be­cause he would not be less Complaisant than the rest of the Company, he willingly pulled off his lower attire of shooes and stockings, but would go no further; insomuch, that holding up his breeches a little above the knee, he thus entred the water; and Clidamant, whose eyes were al­ways [Page 17]fixed upon him, seemed struck with admi­ratlon at the extream whiteness of his skin, which was truly lovely, for no Snow could be compa­red to it. Sure Theocles, said he to him smiling, Nature hath not framed you with these common ingredients with which she hath the rest of Man­kind, for to the colour of those delicate Limbs, the purest Ivory looks black. He blushing re­plied, that he saw he could exercise his wit, though it were upon never so mean a subject; I have seen men (said he) Clidamant, whose skins are far whiter than what you are pleased to say of mine; however, I find you have only a mind to rally, for you your self I suppose know, that a white skin is no such rarity in men, though it be so common in women. Cli­damant made no reply, because they were all preparing to come forth again; which when they were, they rallied upon Theocles, for not doing as they had done, telling him, that he seemed to have more of the Woman in him than Man, by reason of his excellent shape, com­posure and complexion; and that if he was what those tokens did outwardly intimate, he ought to have been excused. Theocles replied, he hoped they would not unman him, by cheating them­selves into that unlikely belief; and he who had pulled off the least of his apparel, was the first that was ready, which when they were all, they walked to the Castle with much chearful­ness: the Moon beginning to elevate her horned­face above the Horizon, and from behind a foggy-cloud to dispel the darkness of the night, every [Page 18]one was glad to seek their repose till the dawning of the day-light; and no sooner was Aurora adorned in her Scarlet-robe to beautify the wel­come morning, nor no sooner were the little Birds in every Grove warbling their good-mor­rows in chearful notes to the glorious day, but this Illustrious Family had all forsaken their pla­ces of repose; especially Agenoris, whose love to the Beautiful stranger did every day rather increase than diminish; and as it is usual for those that are in love to be deprived of their rest, Age­noris his love-sick mind would afford him none during the whole night, but forced him to for­sake his pillow something early. Periander like­wise, whose discontent increased more and more ever since Emilia gave him, as he thought, so much cause to despair, and his Rival, Orontus, so much reason to hope, as by the sense of her last words he imagined, she too plainly manifested; he departed at that early hour into the Fields and Woods, there to endeavour, if it were possible, by his complaints, to extract pitty from the Marble-rocks, the hollow Ecchoes, and the dark­some Groves. Orontus, on the other side, who imagined Periander the happy man in the eye of his Mistress, and himself the only miserable, was likewise infected with the same malady with his Rival; and, as is customary for those that are in love, especially such who imagine themselves the subject of their Mistress's scorn, to seek privacy and solitariness to utter forth their lamentations, without any other witnesses than insensible ob­jects: Even so the oppressed Orontus sought the [Page 19]same manner of solitude as did Periander, and not only so, but, as it hapned, they met together in one and the same place: I need not tell you af­ter what manner they beheld one another, nor the manner of their salutation, which was cold enough; but in the end, notwithstanding the Charge given them by their Mistress, Periander began first with expressions of sweetness to win Orontus to resign up his right in Emilia; which way of proceeding beging ineffectual, he conti­nued with threats; but Orontus being one whose Love was too firm to forsake him, and whose Heart was too couragious to be daunted, told him, he would rather resign up his Life than his Mistress. Then replied Periander, you must; the place wherein we are, is private enough, and it is fit that either you should fall or I, since we cannot both enjoy her; the Prize doth well enough merit our dispute: Therefore Oron­tus draw, for I am resolved to end this dispute on equal terms. Orontus at first seemed very unwilling to act so rashly; and withal asked him, if he had forgot the Command she laid on them. Periander gave little heed to his words; so jea­lous was he of loosing so great a Treasure; but swore by all the Gods, if he did not defend him­self, he would then kill him as he stood; and to make good his word, proceeded to make a Pass at him. Then Orontus drawing his Sword, cried out, The Gods be Witnesses with what constraint I do this thing; Dearest Emilia, for­give me. After which words, he took no far­ther care, but to stand upon his Guard, and with [Page 20]what dexterity he could to put by the Passes of his Adversary; and though several opportunities lay open to him to take his advantage of Peri­ander, yet would he make no use of them, but stood only upon the defensive part. Periander observed it, and grew the more enraged, inso­much that redoubling his thrusts, he fell on like Lightning, and making an Home-pass at Oron­tus his brest, he skilfully put it by, though not so well, but that it coming with great force, gave him a slight hurt in the shoulder, which he soon perceiving, did then begin to deal some thrusts, and presently gave him another in the left-arm, and immediately closing with him, dis­armed him. Agenoris and Clidamant, who at a distance had seen the latter end of the Combat, were just come to them to learn the occasion of their Quarrel. And as there was nothing they would conceal from him, they revealed to him the occasion of their Combat, after they had counselled them to renew their friendship with all the winning Arguments imaginable, and had constrained them to make an unwilling Embrace of each other, Agenoris desired Clidamant to conduct them to the Castle, and to see their wounds dressed, while he enjoyed himself in the Fields; they all obeyed, and being gone, Age­noris wandred from one solitary place to another, entertaining his mind with his ill-destiny in the sad loss of what he found he so much admired, till at length he approached the side of a silent Wood, where sitting down upon a Flowry-Bank, by a sweet musical Stream, he endea­voured [Page 21]to give his sorrow vent, by singing what follows:

After which he breathed Sighs which were capable of moving Compassion in the very Trees themselves. Ah! how happy are those, said he, that are slighted by the Fair-Ones they adore! their Sighs and their Moanings may nourish them with the hope of causing Compassion to make way for Love: But I lament, and she to whose Ears it should arrive, is altogether igno­rant of my sufferings; nought but the dumb objects of Woods, Rocks, and Valeys, are wit­nesses of my Complaints; sometimes some flat­tering [Page 22]Eccho doth seem to send me Comfort, and assoon deprive me of it again; the little Birds do sometimes lament me, and then again, as if they took delight to displease me, in malicious Notes of joy, they seem to make a mock of my miseries; the very leaves too of these Trees, in their silent whisperings, do likewise seem to con­spire against me, and some objects I meet with that intermingle pleasure with my pain; but those are soon vanished again, and overswayed by a burdensome grief, to admire her I once saw, and to be deprived of her sight; I now admire to receive the tender impression of Love with so much joy? when my eyes were first made happy with her sight, and to cherish the wound with that eagerness as I then did, and do still, and to be thus bereft of the only pleasure I hoped to enjoy of her presence. Unkind Fates! why did you let me see her, if I must no more? Ye Gods, be favourable to me in my search of her: and Love, be thou my fortunate Guide; no Grove nor Thicket, no wild-Forest, nor craggy-Moun­tain will I leave unsearched till I have found her I love, and, were it possible, I would search even in Paradise it self, a place not unlikely to har­bour a Composition so Celestial; could I but see her once more, though she would not admit a Cure, her Pity would at least lessen my sufferings, and her Presence would make the Pain more pleasing: In saying this, he advanced some steps upon the Green that lay before the Wood, where looking towards his left-hand, upon a lively and flowry rising of the ground, he espied a Flock of [Page 23]Sheep nibbing on the grass, and on the top of all, under the fair spreading-branches of a comely Tree, still approaching towards that place, he might discern one attired like a Shepherdess, with a Crook in her hand, in long dishevelled Locks, and in a careless Garb, though not so care­less, but the Party it inclosed did make it appear to be very graceful; her Apparel was more plain than rich, yet not so plain, but Majesty seemed inthroned in what was most plain; her Head was graced with an hat, or rather her Head graced the Hat, which, though the materials wherewith it was composed were but homely straw, that hindred it not from being extreme pretty. No sooner had Agenoris with great astonishment viewed these things at an indifferent distance, but he heard the noise of an Horn as from behind the Wood, and immediately there presented to his sight a furious wild-Boar, which was running with much celerity directly towards the place where he saw the Shepherdess; he, without much consultation with his thoughts, drew his Sword, and made what hast he could after it, he came just as he had rent her Vesture, and was going to devour that fair One, where Agenoris joyning Courage to his dexterity, made it appear, that if Nature had rendred him know­ing in the one, Art had not made him less ex­perienced in the other; for approaching the Boar, and making two Passes at him, he run him in at his Shoulder, and it came out again at his Neck, upon which he fell down; but the Furious Monster feeling himself wounded, and, as if he [Page 24]had gathered new strength in his fall, gets up again, and leaps at his Adversary, and now it seemed as though Agenoris must expect inevita­ble ruine by a lamentable death; the Pretty Shepherdess trembled, and looked pale for fear of this Stranger, lest his too great Courage should undo him: But Agenoris, who thinks no Laurels greener than those that are reaped in the midst of dangers, stands firm upon his Guard against his furious Attacks, and taking his time, runs him in again in the Flanck, insomuch that at length, in an heavy groan, his life left him; then was it that laying down his Bloody Sword, he approached the Nymph; but, good God, how was he astonished! how great was his joy when he knew her to be that Fair One that first assaulted his heart in the Wood, and though she had appeared most excellently Beautiful there, yet here she appeared so incomparable Fair, that she did even lay a new Siege to the place that was already surrendred; in the Grove he thought he saw but one Beauty, but by the perfect survey his eyes now made, he perceived thousands in one face, and in the same moment his eyes ma­king a more neer enquiry, discovered something in her that made a shew of Greatness and Ma­jesty, and therefore with a most Reverend Zeal he Accosted her in these words;

Beautious Nymph, how careful the Gods are of what is most Heavenly, they having made me the happy Instrument of protecting you from the fury of this Monster, does witness so great a wonder of Beauty so near a resemblance, of what is most Di­vine, [Page 25]could never be destined to be a Prey to that rude Animal: The Gods themselves, had they not used me, would doubtless by some more secret Power have restrained his fury; nay, had the Monster himself beheld your Charms, he would gently have lain down, and fawned upon what he purposed to have destroyed.

Most Noble Sir, replied the Shepherdess, I must confess my Thanks are too poor a Recom­pence for so large a Service, yet, as it is not in the Sphere of my power to make a Return suita­ble to the Act: I hope you will accept of them as the best, and as the greatest Return I can make. But after you have thus been the Protector of a poor Maids life, be pleased to neglect those Praises, which are due to none but Persons of Honourable Extraction, but not to me, alas; whose mean Birth dare not claim them. If your eye makes you think me Fair, as your tongue ex­presseth, believe it to be deluded; for the know­ledg of my self teacheth me the contrary. The Sun (replied Agenoris) that giveth light to, and beholdeth all the objects of Nature, yet can it not behold it self: Even so, Rare Virgin, the Gods were not the Authors of that lovely Face to make it admire it self, but to raise admiration in others; and what though you are pleased to think your Birth mean, the greatness of your Soul, and the Charms that dwell in that Face, do say your Birth is more than Noble. Much more his passion caused his lips to utter, to which she as readily replied; and among many other things he demanded of her, he presumed to enquire whether she was Born in [Page 26]this Island, to which she answered affirmatively; and whether her Parents were alive, and how he might call them? Mother (said she) I have none, for my Fate hath deprived me of her; but my Father is a poor Shepherd of this Countrey, and lives in a small Cottage on the back-side of the Wood, where I am told I was Born. My Father is called Melintus, and I am known among the Shepherds and Shepherdesses of this Island by the Name of Mellissa. Agenoris paid her his thanks with much submission, for the satisfaction she had given him, and then with much discretion revealed his passion to her; and if it may be said that ever any Virgins heart was inclined to pitty at the recital of a Lovers flame, surely hers was: He gave her a full relation of his having seen her in the Wood, and how he designed to come to the speech of her, and touching the mise­rable condition he hath remained in ever since, for not knowing where to find her. To all which she seemed to lissen with much attention; and in truth it may be said, the present joy of Agenoris, to see her heart was not of Marble, made him be forgetful of his past afflictions: And now (said he to her) since Fortune hath been so kind to let me enjoy that happiness I least expected, I hope you will not kill me, but let me live in your esteem. Here Mellissa interrupted him, saying, What can you expect, Sir, from a Shepherds Daughter? to be your Bride will dishonour you; and though I have no Riches, I have so great an esteem for Virtue, that I'll rather lose my Life than taint my Reputation; in retaining which, I [Page 27]enjoy a Wealth not to be exchanged for that of Croesus; and though Honour is thought to in­habit no-where but in Princes Palaces, yet is there a sort of Honour in the Cottages of Shep­herds, (though but an homely Dwelling, you will say, for Honour;) but such is it, that Virtue her self is ever cherishing and defending it from false allurements, and unjust pretences. You say you love me, Sir, do not endeavour to cheat my Innocence, for if it be as you say, you do love me for some end or other: If you design to make me your Bride, your proceeding to me thereby will seem just, but to you dishonourable, because of my mean condition. If your design be to abuse my Chastity, Virtue, that glorious Guard of Honour, bids me tell you, that you must never dare to see me more. The Gods them­selves, replied Agenoris, are witnesses that my flame is too pure to wrong so much Innocence, and too innocent to abuse so much Virtue: I should wrong Heaven it self, were I but guilty of such an unjust thought! I only beg you would receive an unfeigned Heart that loves you, and that you would pronounce me in some measure either miserable or happy! Pitty, pitty this poor Heart that lives only by you, and seeks no other dwelling but your dear Breast. Alas! replied Mellissa, suppose I should love you? and indeed I find I have little reason not to esteem you; I I should love you too well to undo a Person of your Worth. However, live Sir, and live in my esteem, but never live to enjoy a miserable Maid like me; except Fortune had raised me [Page 28]to a degree of Bliss, whereby I might have deserved you. Ah cruel Mellissa! (said he) you give Agenoris life by commanding him to live, and in your esteem; yet seem to kill him again by that heart-breaking word [never!] he must never enjoy thee! Alas! thou art too deserving for me already, thou art rich enough in natural Riches; thou art able to make Princes happy! Adorable Mellissa! dart down then a Ray of Comfort upon thy comfortless Agenoris, and revive his Heart with the warmth of thy Love, which must otherwise break. If Modesty be a Virtue, said Mellissa, so is likewise Grati­tude; if it be Immodesty then to grant a mo­dest Requital to him that hath hazarded his own Life to save mine, I may then be said to abuse that commendable Virtue: but since the World doth not use such unjust constructions, I will pass a grant upon what you ask me. It is Love, you say; come, you have it, Agenoris; and though a Fort doth seldom surrender at the first Artack, yet to you, Agenoris, you see it does; the Ser­vice you even now did, may make me excusa­ble, and doth make me sensible of what I owe to a Person like you: but though you have my Love, my cruel Fate will not permit me to give you that Requital you may merit, and as I could wish; for as you seem to be a Person of Ho­nour, I am, you see, but a poor, gentle, harmless Shepherdess, one that would not willingly wrong her self, nor have any body wronged by her; especially you, who are my Life's Preserver: therefore if ever you loved to grant the desire [Page 29]of her you say you love, let me intreat you not to endeavour the hastning to your dishonour, by the enjoyment of miserable Me, but rest con­tented with the knowledg that I love you; yet if Fortune should change her Face towards me, which seems not likely, on lawful and honourable terms make me yours; if not, think it never can be; yet this consolation I will afford you, Agenoris, that no body shall reap what by you was not obtained, and for your sake I'll die as innocent as I was born. Since, said Agenoris, your Decree is such, I must submit, and will live, if it be but to gaze upon those sparkling Eyes, and in gazing I'll enjoy what I so dearly love. That sweet concordance of Colours in that love­ly Face doth almost seem to ask me, if desire is not limited; therefore what can be more de­sirable than to behold a sight so glorious? Much Discourse to the same effect, which was very charming and passionate, passed between them; till being inquisitive how and where he might enjoy the happiness he now did, once more? she gave him to understand, that in the same place where she now was, he might every pleasant Evening find her attending on her Flocks; and that as his Birth seemed honourable, she hoped his Actions would speak him no less, and there­fore should not be against that freedom he de­sired, since he looked like one who would make no ill use of it. After he had paid her his De­voirs for the good opinion she seemed to have of him, he for that time took his leave of her, but with an intent to renew his Addresses to her [Page 30]the next day, which he accordingly did, taking Clidamant with him; and when they came, they found that Melintus her Father was with her, who shewed them a Respect almost equal to what their Qualities required: and having been informed by Mellissa how the brave Agenoris had been the Protector of her Life, it is not to be imagined with what kindness they were received by Melintus, which was not ill rerurned by Age­noris; who after some indifferent Discourse with him, did earnestly solicit him and his Daughter, whom he highly respected, to be his beloved Guests, and to forsake their Sheep to accompany him to the Castle, where he resided: Many Ar­guments, as well Clidamant as Agenoris used, be­fore they could prevail with them to leave that sort of life wherein they found so much content: But at length, what by the force of very rich Presents that they presented to Melintus, and offered to Mellissa, though she would except of none; and what by most tender expressions of Love and Good-will, they in the end perswaded him and his Daughter to accept of a Lodging far different from what she then had: so giving the Charge of his Sheep to another Swain, they guided their steps to their place of Habitation; and having acquainted his other Guests of those he had newly received, who did all of them ex­tremely admire the Beauty of Mellissa, and did not unjustly imagine that she designed more than to be a Shepherdess, and thereupon gave her a Reception suitable to her Merit, and not to what her Quality seemed to speak her; and a Chamber [Page 31]was provided for her, with a Maid to attend on her Person, to the great joy and comfort of Me­lintus, vvho knevv that Agenoris had an heart full of Honour, and vvas not so abject as to do her any violence; he likevvise knevv his Daugh­ter's to be proof against all enticements, and therefore vvas not a little glad of the occa­sion; and though the Presents hehad given him by Agenoris vvere sufficient to make him forsake the Title of a Shepherd, yet the peace and quiet­ness he found in that life, vvould not permit him to leave the svveetness of it; insomuch, that though he had changed his Cottage for a sort of Palace, he vvould still each day frequent the Plains, as vvould also Mellissa, to guard the harm­less Lambs: Agenoris himself too, for her sake, vvould not scruple to take up the Sheephook to attend on her; vvhere, as he sat on the green Hillocks by her side, he vvould divert her vvith the Stories of unhappy Lovers, and pulling out his Flute, vvould beguile the time vvith its Me­lody, as she vvould vvith her vvell-tuned Voice. He vvould never permit her to resort alone to the Plains, neither vvould he be ever satisfied but vvhen he vvas in her presence: and on the other side it vvas evident that she found not his passion displeasing to her, nor vvas she uncapable of re­ceiving the svveet sting of Love; hovv agreeable vvere his Sighs to her, and hovv charming the expressions of his Love! But let us leave these avvhile, to endeavour to ease our other Lovers; and first let us learn the immediate cause of their several sufferings, vvhich could not be vvith more [Page 32]case guessed at, than by an Adventure vuhich hapned one day, to the general amazement of all the Company: It vvas after Agenoris vvas re­turned from attending on his Mellissa in the Plains, vvhen being entred the Castle, and into a lovver Room, vvhere Emilia, Theocles, and others of the Company were, he saw Clidamant with much eagerness, as the Company all imagined, Courting of the Fair Emilla; while Theocles walk­ed chafingly about the Room, as though some­thing had given him cause of offence. Agenoris addressed himself to him, and perceiving him to look discontentedly, asked him the cause? Ah Agenoris! said he, if ever you did bear any Re­spect to my Friend Clidamant, or me; or if ever you knew what true Friendship was, I conjure you by those Tears which you see trickle down my Cheeks, by whatever you hope for of Hap­piness, and by the Love you bear to Clidamant, to desire him to desist from Courting of that Lady; something I could tell you, that might perhaps move your heart to do the thing I desire of you, if what I have already said would not; but several Reasons oblige me to conceal it, till such time as it makes a voluntary appearance of it self; besides, I have made an Oath not to do it: by that strong Argument then, though un­known to you, and whatever it be, let me im­plore of you to fulfil my will in this. You know, I suppose, with what sincerity Emilia is already Adored by the two Rivals, Orontus and Periander; suffer not Clidamant then to obstruct their Pro­gress, for I question not but she may one day [Page 33]smile on one of them; consider then seriously of what I say, and without asking me any other Reasons than what I have told you, for my be­ing thus urgent in this Affair; use your utter­most power to put a stay to his proceedings. Agenoris was something surprized at this Discourse, and told him, that if his desire aimed at his Friends good Fortune, he should rot contemn the present Actings of Clidamant, since the Lady he seemed to love, was both Fair, Honourable, and Young; for which Rea­son he should rather rejoyce at it, than seem to be confused and troubled. O never! never pro­pose this thing to me, said Theocles, if you do you kill me! Agenoris then seeing him so eager in his intreaty, though he was not able to discern the occasion of it, promised him to make use of all the power he had to prevent it; and withal. desired him to rest satisfied till he had effected it. Theocles had no sooner paid him his Acknowledgments for the promise he had now made him: but Agenoris left him, and went strait towards Clidamant and Emilia, to the end he might break off their Discourse, if it were of Love, as he could think no other­wise: after then some indifferent Discourses with them both a-while, he took Clidamant aside, who was ever his trusty Confident, to ease his distressed mind, by entertaining him concerning his Beloved Shepherdess. Ah Cli­damant! (said he) had you but seen and heard with what a Grace she pronounced that which must be the cause of my future Hope, or pre­sent [Page 34]Despair, your surprizal would have been great; and then gave him to understand what progress he thought he had made in that Fair-One's heart; and Clidamant could not choose but contribute with him in his joy, though for his own part he found but little cause; for ha­ving received a wound from the Eyes of the Fair Emilia, and imploring her relief, her Rigour had almost made him desperate; for in stead of finding Love, he found her Hate: Agenoris then disswaded him from loving Emilia, and shewed him how unjust it was to seek to deprive Oron­tus and Periander of that Happiness they laid claim to before him, for which they but now would have sacrificed eath others Lives: All his Arguments were in vain; it was enough to know he loved to apprehend he was obstinate; for which cause Agenoris said not much more to him, but induced him to accompany him to see the two Rivals wounds, which were not very considerable; and afterwards, because it was late, to their several Apartments, and so to their rest. But when day-light had conquered darkness, every body with much willingness left their Beds, especially Orontus and Perian­der, whose wounds being pretty well again, were both of them upon going to give a Visit to Emilia; but with what face to do it, since they had both been regardless of her last Com­mands, they knew not: However, Orontus ima­gined himself to be less Criminal than his Ri­val, because he was provoked to do what he did in defence of himself; with this assurance [Page 35]then, though seized with a certain awful fear of some just punishment from her, for what she thought him guilty, he saw her first, and in humble kneeling told her, that he was come to sue a Pardon of her, for a thing, which though in her Eyes might make him seem altogether Criminal, yet when she should know what pro­vocation occasioned it, and the necessity he was in either to die upon the point of his Rival's Sword, or to use his own in defence of that Life he was every minute ready to sacrifice for her sake, he hoped she would in some measure lessen the severity of that Decree he saw she was every moment ready to pronounce against him; and though this last Action of his might bear the outward form of negligence, yet was his Will altogether obedience. But, Madam, said he, (rising up) if what I have done does make me black with guilt before you, let me receive my punishment from your Fair Hands: when he had said this, he opened his Breast, drew his Sword, and offering it to her, said, here Madam, give your disobedient Servant that which he hath justly deserved, and let him be blest with Death from your Fair Self, which will be so welcome a Favour, that in dying he shall think you have been kind, because you will then deprive him of a Life which would have been worser than ten thousand Deaths to me, should I have lived in your Hate! Here Madam, (proceeded he, in opening his Broa [...] wider) let out this guilty blood! strike, Madam and strike home! But she only turning her Face [Page 36]aside, and bidding him put up his Sword, told him, no; that though the Crime of which he was guilty, had given her a just cause of offence, yet was not her aim at his Life; for you may live, said she in a saint note, — but not to love me; you may find enough, whose Deserts and Beauties are far more powerful to inspire Love, than any thing you can see in me. I shall not banish you my sight for what you have done, because I see something in your Face that speaks a silent penetence; but yet I must conjure you never to speak more of Love to me, one word of it hereafter condemns you to an everlasting Exile. She had scarce pronounced this heavy Sentence on poor Orontus, but Periander en­tred, and at her Feet was going to speak his submissions, when she prevented him, in say­ing, she wondred how he dare intrude himself into her Presence after what he had done! ad­ding withal, that it was in vain for him to speak, for she would hear nothing he should alledg in his Vindication: Madam, said he, trembling, I come not here to plead Innocence, but like a Prisoner at the Bar, I wait for that punishment I merit: and, Fair Judg, as it's you only that must pronounce the Sentence, it's you only that must inflict the severity of your Indignation. Since it is so, Periander, said she, I charge you never to see me more! and without one word more of Reply, rising up from the ground, ma­king a low Bow with the Tears in his Eyes, and a down-east Look; Madam, said he, you shall be obeyed, and Farewel for ever! yet let not [Page 37]my Memory be odious to you, though my Per­son be: so saying no more, he went dejectedly out of the Room, followed by Orontus, and in­stantly, with all imaginable privacy, he departed from the Castle, to the no small wonder of Age­noris and Clidamant when they missed him; they both had a particular kindness for him, and were therefore the more afflicted at his unexpected absence: that he would betray them to the Tyrant, they had too long experienced his Fidelity to judg so ill of him; but that which most perplexed them, was, the knowing themselves ignorant of the cause of his depar­ture. Orontus, who though he had not so much cause to despair as Periander, yet was his heart seized with a deep sorrow, because she had forbid him the very naming of Love to her; and what she would not hear him name, he knew she would less suffer in him; how to ease his heart of this confused grief, he knew not, his Reason was too far gone to be recalled to subdue his Passion, and banish her from his mind: many thoughts disturbed his Fancy, which would make him sometimes resolved to do one thing, whilst others again did as soon can­cel that resolution to introduce one more new. By these means he would endeavour a preven­tion of despair, till one thought seeming of more force than the rest, gave him some hope and encouragement to put it in execution: with this in his mind then, he found out Theo­cles, to whom he related how ill his Mistress requited his Love, likewise telling him, that [Page 38]never any served a Lady so cruel and rigorous! Theocles extremely lamented his misfortune, and with all the tender words a compassionate heart is able to manifest on such an occasion, did throughly express his inward sorrow; for which Orontus gave him thanks, and told him, that since he did endeavour to comfort him in his distress, he hoped he would use his utter­most power to lift him out of that miserable Gulph in which her cruelty had unhappily cast him, and that then he should not be altogether overcome with that despair, which will other­wise put an end to his Lise; and that if he would grant what he was going to demand of him, it would be so great a comfort to his rest­less thoughts, and so great a joy to his heavy heart, that it would infuse new life in him! Theocles answered him, that he might be sure he would not be backward to perform any service he should command him, more especial­ly what tended to his satisfaction and welfare; and therefore desired him to give him to under­stand what it was he requested? and that if he was capable of doing it, his endeavour therein should manifest the truth of his Friendship. Then was it that Orontus told him, in a manner which did plainly demonstrate his inward grief, that his only Request to him was, to find out Emilia, and to use all the means and expressions that Love can dictate to her, to induce her to lessen her Severity towards him; and, if it were possible, to perswade her to revoke that rigid Sentence. Theocles bid him be assured [Page 39]that he would compass what he desired of him, and to expect good news in a short time; for he would hunt this Cruel-Fair so often, and would use such means, that if nothing else would, his importunities alone should make her submit to what tended to the contentment of his mind. It was not to be feared that Theocles would in the least decline from performing what he had promised him: his aversion being so great to see Clidamant Court her, it's to be imagined that he was glad of the opportunity, and therefore without any farther delay he went to make good his word.

There hapned one day an Adventure which we must not here omit, no less strange than pleasant, and occasioned by Agenoris, who had left his own Chamber, and nesigned it to Mel­lissa the first night of her Arrival; and though Clidamant had been his former Bedfellow, yet being at this time desirous to repose alone, that he might enjoy himself and his thoughts more freely, he intreated Clidamant to lie with Theo­cles, who had hitherto lain by himself: Clida­mant went immediately to him to let him know who was to be his Night-Companion; which when Theocles heard, he seemed to startle, and his Colour, like the ebbing and flowing of the Tide, ascended into his Face, and vanished away again two or three times, as if it had proceeded both from shame and anger; but for what it's unknown: However, his present surprizal being something over, he faintly told Clidamant, that he was but a troublesome Bedfellow, and that [Page 40]he was given so to tumble in the night, that he was certain he could enjoy no Repose with him: but all his Reasons were misunderstood by Clidamant, who would lie with him notwith­standing his refusal. Theocles seeing he could not prevail with him, and that he would give no Ear to his excuses, seemed very much per­plexed; and among the rest of the confused Speeches he uttered; Well, (said he) Clida­mant, will you admit of no denial then? if not, know that I am— Here he made a pause, as if he was thinking of what he was going to say: But (said Clidamant to him) what are you, Theocles, content, — answered he? To do what, replied Clidamant? not to lie, said Theo­cles, in some kind of confusion, and making ano­ther pause; with me, said Clidamant; without you, said Theocles, — and with a seeming willingness he lay with him, and they went to Bed together at the same time that the rest of the Family retired, vvho did all enjoy their Re­pose in a plentiful manner, except Orontus, whose unkind usage from Emilia would not permit him to close his eyes; he was therefore the first that got up in the morning, and was very curious to know how Theocles would succeed in what he had promised him; Clidamant did se­cond him, and had been as restless as he, by reason Emilia was as great a torment to him as she had been to the other: Being dressed, and in a readiness to quit the Chamber, he per­ceived Theocles to be awake, because the light that came from the Window darted upon the [Page 41]Bed, he savv it being pretty broad, that he vvas crept as far tovvards the other side as he could possible be; 'tis no great sign (said Cli­damant to him) that you are a troublesome Bedfellow, as you told me last night; for at that distance which I am certain you lay from me all night, you could not well be as you said; and of all the men that I have lain with, never did I meet with one that lay more still and quiet than your self; and to speak the truth, I almost doubted at midnight whether I had you in bed with me or no; for though I en­deavoured to give my self that satisfaction by feeling for you under the Bed-clothes, yet could I not reap it, for you were not to be found. In saying this, and without staying for his Reply, which he was going to make, he gave him the Good-morrow, and then went forth of the Room to find Agenoris, who had been up very early to walk out some-whether with his Dear Mellissa, as it was supposed, to divert themselves, they had appointed it the foregoing night. Agenoris and Clidamant re­sorted to her Chamber, and knocking at the door, to demand of the Maid that was set to wait upon her, permission of her Mistress to visit her, she prevented them by coming to the door her self to bid them enter, and after the usual Ceremonies on such occasions, they were going to do what was designed by them, and to walk out in the fresh Air; but because they would do it privately, they urged Clidamant to [Page 42]stay behind, who would otherwise have waited on them; they told him that in two hours time they hoped to return, because the heat of the day would be unpleasant to them, that Pa­phos should limit their intended Walk. Ageno­ris would have taken the Coach, had not Mel­lissa pressed him to the contrary, because she imagined it would be more delightful for them to go on Foot, and likewise considering the little way they had to go. Agenoris believed it would be unnecessary to take any of his At­tendance with them; the Morning was fair, and so early was it, that the Sun had not as yet given them a smiling Salutation by his appear­ance; they departed then, and not so much as a Page with them, only Agenoris carried with him a small Casket full of the richest Jewels he had, with an intent to Present it and them to his Mellissa: They had not been long gone be­fore all the Family had with much eagerness quitted their Beds, and with much earnestness made their enquiries after Agenoris and Mel­lissa's welfare, more especially Emilia, who was disturbed with a dream that did make her Re­pose altogether bitter and unpleasant, imagining it to be a Portent of some unlucky Adventure that might happen upon those whom it most concerned, and could not refrain from being struck with a sudden grief; the cause whereof she related to Clidamant, who took but little notice of it, and made answer, that Dreams were but imaginary Realities, occasioned by the rising of Vapours into the Head, when [Page 43]Sleep doth sway as Emperor of the Night; but when we wake we find those Images all vanish, and then we come to know that it's only the continual, employment of the unwearied Spi­rits, which are too Aetherial to sleep like the Body, that stamps those Images into our minds. It was reported of a man, Fair Emilia, said he, who being fastned in Irons, and in a strong Pri­son, yet when he slept would his flattering Dreams create him King over many Rich Na­tions, thereby giving him as well an universal Power as Liberty, yet when he waked, those joys were all vanished, and he found himself still in Fetters. The Miser likewise dreams he finds heaps of Treasures, continues very unsa­tisfied when he wakes, and then comes to know that it was but his deluded Fancy. I my self, Charming Emilia, have often dreamed I have seen you smile on me! but alas, I could say it was but a Dream too. Judg then whether you may have any cause to fear, from any thing you have dteamed this night? I know not, replied Emilia, but I am in a strange apprehension of something: If the Company will be pleased to give attention, they shall hear the Original cause of that which occasions my trouble: the Com­pany who were present intreated her to do as she said, which she very obligingly did, in these words; If Agenoris and Mellissa are well, said she, it's a great folly to judg a Dream ominous, but if they are not, I have much reason to imagin the contrary, by this Nights Vision; for I was no sooner asleep, but Agenoris, Mellissa, and my self, [Page 44]methought, were walking in a pleasant Green-Meadow by the Sea-side, where leaving them to go another way, when I wàs at a certain distance from them, chancing to look behind me, I perceived about a dozen Tygers that issued out of a dark Den hard-by, who ran with open-mouth upon them to destroy them; and fancying that I had heard Mellissa give a grievous shrick, the fright of it waked me! Now the Gods grant, said she, that no harm may betide them. If, said Theocles, I were curious to regard Dreams, I might per­haps be equally concerned with you; for I likewise dreamed that Agenoris and Mellissa were both taken by Aphistaminus the Ʋsurper of this Island; and that imagining Agenoris to be Eva­goras, the true Heir to this Crown, who is repor­ted to be gone to Sicily, he laid him in a dark Dungeon, and had loaded him with as many Chains as his Body could well bear, and that he had kept Mellissa in a private Chamber with an intent to Ravish her: But just as I was about dreaming that he was giving order to a Ruffian to murder him, I awaked. Clidamant's Colour changed extremely while he was relating this Dream, and by his eyes might be discerned some in­ward perplexity; he went presently to Oron­tus and Emilia, and told them whispering, that he could not choose but be something moved at it; if it were only that Theocles, who knew him not to be a Prince, should dream of him as one, and should dream that he was made a Prey to Aphistaminus, who would doubt­less make him suffer more than his Dream spe­cified, [Page 45]could he find him: And now was it that Clidamant repented that the Prince did not leave the Kingdom to have avoided these dan­gers; he could not rest till he had sent some of his Servants to make enquiry after him, for now more than two hours were slid away since he first departed. He immediately went and ordered some to go towards Paphos, some to the sood, and some to the Sea-side. And while Clidamant was thus employed, Theocles being desirous to perform what he had promised to Orontus, found out Emilia to Accost her on his behalf: I have a Suit to you, Madam, said he, what is it, Theocles? answered she. Madam, said he, I dare not let it arrive to your know­ledg, except you will first promise to hear it sa­vourably, and afterwards to grant it; it's no trifle, Madam, said he, since it concerns life, What is it you demand? said she; let me know on whose behalf you plead? if what you ask of me does not exceed the Rules of Civility and Honour, perhaps I shall not refuse what you desire. Then, Madam, replied he, Mercy con­ducing much to your Honour, I hope you will now let it shine as brightly among the rest of your Perfections, and appear with as glorious a Lustre as doth a Diamond among a number of other precious Stones; that you may save the Life of miserable Orontus, lessen then your severity: Periander is no more to be heard of, you have condemned him to Exile; come, you must love Orontus, I must not be denied, nay, I told him I would not be denied; pray smile [Page 46]upon him, and do not wish him harm. I wish him none (said she) Theocles, with a sigh, but I must not love him, nay, I cannot; since you can plead so well for your Friend, (said she smiling,) what a becoming Orator would you be for your self, if you had occasion? but pray desist from speaking any more in his behalf, for fear my weakness should make me submit not to deny you. Ah Madam! added he, did you but know how sincere his Love is! did you but know how little he enjoys himself! and did you but know what deep-fetched sighs he breaths for your sake, certainly your Pitty would intro­duce Love! Pitty him I do, (replied she, blush­ing,) because I cannot love him; and that's all he may hope for from me; yet tell him I would have him live. She spoke this in a kind of di­stracted manner, and with a faultering speech, and a look extremely wild; and fain would she have revoked her words, but that she thought it too late, because they were already uttered. Theocles rejoyced exceedingly for having ob­tained thus much of her on his Friend's part, and therefore with many thanks to her for the same, he left her, to carry the poor Lover the chearful News; which he had no sooner told him, but it seemed to him almost incredible. And does Emilia bid me live! said he; can she then pitty her languishing Lover? As Storms at Sea do for the present make the despairing Sea­men prepare for unwelcome Death, yet when by some miraculous Fate the roaring Winds sud­denly cease, and the briny Ocean does once [Page 47]again wear a smiling Calm, it doth in such man­ner chear up the Heart of the mournful Mari­ner, that his present joy causeth him to forget his past misery: Even so this unexpected Bles­sing which Emilia hath conferred upon me, does so revive my drooping Spirits, which were once perishing in the frightful Sea of Despair, occasioned by her storms of Cruelty, that the desire I once had to die, to be eased of my sad pain, is changed into a pleasant desire I have to live: Since it is likewise by her command, brave Sir! said he to Theocles, in embracing him; the remembrance of that singular Favour you have now done me, is too great not to be acknowledged, which I am sorry I can no other­wise do, than by bearing the unfeigned Title of your Obliged Servant; too small a Requital for so noble a Courtesie. Theocles returned his Complements after a very gallant manner, and then left him to search for Clidamant, to learn of him whether he had yet heard any news of Agenoris and Mellissa, who sorrowfully told him that the Servants were returned, but could hear nothing of them, except it was those that took their way towards Paphos, who informed him, that after enquiry made there after two such persons, they had been seen in the Temple of Venus: Clidamant seeing all his endeavors to find them were unprofitable, was sensibly grieved, as was likewise Old Melintus, as vvell for the absence of Agenoris, as for the loss of his Daughter: But much more vvere all their sorrovvs increased, vvhen novv they had vvaited [Page 58]vvith longing expectation to learn Nevvs of them, till the Sun had half finished his Course through the tvvelve Heavenly Signs, and yet nought could be heard of them: then vvas it that all Hope began to forsake them; then vvas it that their Tears did once more manifest hovv much they suffered by such a loss; but time at length made them consider, that since there was no other Remedy, they must be constrained to rest unwillingly contented. And indeed Clida­mant, however sorrowful he was for the ab­sence of the Prince, yet was he not in the least neglectful of paying his Devoirs to Emilia, which in the same moment did seem very much to perplex Theocles, though Clidamant perceived it not; his small success in his Application to her gave him great displeasure, and small en­couragement to proceed, though Love perhaps might be of force to make him endeavour to resist his Fate; notwithstanding which, his trrouble was apparent enough; for he would sometimes seem to rave, and in his ordinary Discourse would often breath out Emilia at un­awares! how to heal his mind he knew not, till on a certain day a sudden thought possessed him, and he resolved to visit the Temple of Venus at Paphos, and thence to learn his Destiny, and to know whether he might ever obtain the happi­ness he aspired at, he soon prosecuted his de­sign; where saluting the Priest, and deolaring the occasion of his coming, he found admit­tance into the Temple; and being silent till the usual Ceremonies to the Goddess were per­formed, [Page 49]formed, he, by the instigation of the Priest, did kneel down, and made the ensuing Prayer.

Great Goddess! thou who art not only the Go­verness of poor Mortals present Fate, but like­wise of their future: Thou, who alone, canst make Lovers happy, and art the only Ruler of our Af­fections: Thou who canst trace the unbeaten Paths of the Soul; and art the true Ʋniter of all plea­sing desires; grant the Humble Supplication of a Love-sick Mortal, and reveal to him whether he may extract any thing of Sweetness from what doth appear to be most Cruel? or whether Cruelty may continue to Reign in what doth bear the outward form of much Sweetness? whether the Heart of her he affecteth hath any room to entertain Love? or whether Love may make him hope for a Return from the Heart by him affected?

Having ended his Prayer, the Altar before which they were planted, seemed to give a deep-groan, and the hollow and retired Vaults of the Temple, like distant Thunder in loud whisperings, to presage that the Oracle was go­ing to speak; which in a faint, though plain Voice, it did in these following words: [Page 50]

Scarce was the Oracle silent, but Clidamant departed with much distraction in his thoughts, and discontent in his looks; for he found him­self as much unsatisfied as he was before, in vain therefore did he often endeavor to unravel the sense of what he had heard; it seemed all along to him so palpable a contradiction, that the more he studied, the more he found his thoughts incumbred, though he imagined the latter end did plainly seem to flatter him; but yet for two or three days he continued very melan­choly, keeping his Chamber, and deserting Com­pany in so strange a manner, that it raised an astonishment in all that knew him, although those who knew him well, attributed it to the absence of Agenoris: the third day he seemed not altogether so sorrowful, nor was he yet in the least danted at the several Repulses his Mistress gave him, but renewed his Suit to her with as much, or rather more eagerness than he had done formerly, which in the same instant did raise many Clouds in the Brow of Theocles, who with a troubled Countenance immediately departed the Room; though Clidamant, who was otherwise employed, took no notice of him, and still continued to endeavor to sosten the heart of Emilia; but alas it was in vain, for she persisted to be more rigorous to him than ever. Orontus on the other side faired better, since Theocles had spoke to her in favour of him; she would not now be displeased, or at least not seem so, when she heard the name of Love pro­nounced by him; notwithstanding which his [Page 52]doubts were not cleared, and which way her in­clinations did tend he could not tell; he found but little reason to think himself an inhabitant in her thoughts, because she took so little no­tice of his pain; for meeting her once in the Garden in one of the Terras-walks, and with much difficulty finding an opportunity to enter­tain her; Madam, said he, (after some other Dis­dourse,) long have I loved you! long have I sigh'd for you▪ and every moment am I dy­ing for you▪ yet have I been so far from ob­taining your Love, that I perceive you have no room left for Pl [...]ty, that may nourish me with Hope, but your Contempt feeds me with De­spair▪ How can Cruelty have so fair a Dwel­ling▪ is your resolution fixed? do you resolve to kill the most Faithful of your Adorers? If so, Deal Madam, vouchsafe, me the Grace to let me know it, and you shall soon be deprived of one whose Life is hateful to himself, if it be to you: She made no answer all this while, but seemed to be in a profound study, which made Orontus with the tears in his eyes thus to proceed again. Madam, you are regardless of my misery, and seem deaf to my complaints▪ You who are the Directress of my Destiny, can you be the cause of my Ruine? You who are the Bright Star by which I may steer to the Haven of Bliss, can you take pleasure to make a Faithful Lover desperate? What was it Orontus said? replied she, as if she had been newly rouzed from the Region of the Dead, or from a busy Slumber. I say, Madam, continued [Page 53]he, that your cruelty hath killed the most faithful Lover that ever was, though the pow­er of a smile from you raises him again, that fair visage methinks appears too innocent to the view, to give the heart encouragement to harbour Cruelty; those eyes are too bright to cause despair, and that Mouth too pretty to pronounce the Sentence of Death. Alas Orontus, answered she, I was thinking of the Prince—and did not well understand what you were saying; but what I told you, when Agenoris was inquisitive with me to end the difference between you and Periander, is my answer now; with which I would desire you to rest so well contented, that you will impor­tune me no more in this affair, especially now when I would be private. Orontus, whose only desire was to please her, did readily shew his obedience, and in an humble manner took his leave of her, he himself imagining his com­pany at that time to be a trouble to her, be­cause her desire was to be alone; where we will leave her to her privacy, and return to Clidamant, whom we lately left entertaining the same Lady, but being treated by her more like one she hated than one she loved, he likewise left the room immediately after. Theocles and his heart being stuft with the fumes of an excessive Melancholy; he went by himself into the Grove of Venus, their to consult his thoughts what he had best to do, where it would sometimes come into his mind to desist loving a Mistress that so ill requited his love, and pre­sently [Page 54]after he would think it lay not in his power. Thus did he continue walking under the shady trees with his thoughts always in motion, though irresolute and wavering, when as Fate would have it, casting his eye towards a pleasing shady Ally on his right hand, he espied Theocles walking in a posture not unlike himself, looking downwards, his hat over his eyes, and his Arms cross his breast, Clidamant drew near him; tho he this while saw him not till he came very near him, and then his voice at first startled him; for said Clidamant to him, dear Theocles, why in this dispairing posture? what is it disturbs your mind? you ask me what I may demand of you, replyed Theocles, (in a very indifferent manner) were it not that I know you court the fair Emilia—what (added he) hath she withstood your addresses? will she not be kind Clidamant? has she given you a repulse? can you not work a smile from her. You deride me Theocles, answered he, in my misfortunes, which is not like a Friend; and though she makes it her glory to laugh at what she causes me to suffer, methinks you that pretend to be my Friend should rather afford me some pitty. But said he again, Ile give you no more cause to rally me, for I am resolved to subdue this stubborn passion, and to triumph over her charms, that I may taste more sweetness in my life then now I do. Clidamant replyed Theo­cles, that I more than pretend friendship to you, here is a heart can surely testify, and thee steem I have for you is greater than you believe it is; for in laughing at your present suffering, as you [Page 55]call them, I do more like a friend than if I should chearish you in your proceedings; but No, No, Clidamant, make love to a stock or stone, or to any other insensible object, and then judg whether you may not find as much sweetness there, as in your tyranical Mistress. I shall not go to lay before you how unlikely your love to this Lady is to prove effectual, because the expe­rience you already have had hath I suppose now made you something sensible of it; then putting on a more serious Countenance, but do you think it possible said he to do as you say? can you shake off the unprofitable Chains of that fair one? if you can tell me, I do resolve to en­deavour, answered Clidamant, and am in hopes of being successful; suppose then said Theocles, that I should beg permission of you, to chuse you a Mistress whom you might perhaps not think unhandsome, and whose love to you should exceed the formers hatred, would you not think this change too equitable and be more desirous to free your heart from the imperious captivity of so cruel a Conquerer, to bestovv it on one vvho vvould endeavour to pitty your sufferings, and apply remedies: Alas said Clidamant, these are vain suggestions, deceit­ful dreams, and meer delusions; but were it so, and the Lady you thus proposed to me fair, virtuous, and endowed with all the accomplish­ment of Emilia, except her cruelty; I am apt to think that her Fetters would of themselves drop off to receive softer and milder from such a one as you speak of. Since then said Theocles you [Page 56]have thus revealed your thonghts to me, and have given me a positive answer to the thing I demanded of you; Wonder not, if I now tell you, that since my arrival into this Island I have ob­tained a singular accquaintance with a Lady be­tween this and Paphos, who by my procurement hath often seen you, though unseen by you, per­haps she is not altogether destitute of those qualities you desire in a Lady, you would pre­tend to: such esteem she may have for you, which when you throughly come to know, you will find you have reason to chearish; if I have revealed more to you, than her own modesty would suffer were she here, if ever you know her, as you are a Gentleman, I doubt not but you will give such a favourable construction of her behaviour as she most deserveth. Its the gene­ral discourse of them that know us both, to report her to be extreamly like me, and indeed nature hath made her features so concordant with mine, that we have often been taken for fister and brother: Now if you will promise me utterly to reject Emilia, and to take no Wife but what I shall chuse, you may sometimes see her. Let the Gods witness, replied Clidamant, I do faithfully promise it; though Emilia still may Iodg in a corner of my heart and mind, yet I doubt not but the sight of this beautiful Lady you speak of, and the remembrance of the for­mers cruelty will expel her quite; it is impossi­ble that any Lady can smile on me, did I not know thee Theocles to be a real friend, I should not believe thee, I am so astonished at it, that I [Page 57]do almost think my fancy deluded; yet said he again to himself softly, this must be the proffer I was advised too by the Gods: I must not, nay I find I cannot refuse it, the place I am in is Venus Grove, and then said he more loud I do resolve to embrace this happiness, and do here absolute­ly promise to take no Wife but she you shall chuse for me; if she be like you Theocles, I shall in truth think her not unhandsom; I have often wished that the transmutation of Sexes were real, that you might immediately commence Woman; for whereas now being a man, though the esteem I have for you is not small, were you a Woman, my Love to you would be boundless. But when? said he, very eagerly, where? and how shall I see this sweet Crea­ture? Soft, said Theocles, I have not yet done; you shall see her presently; so putting his hand in his Pocket, he pulled out a Picture in a Case of Gold, embellished with Precious Stones, and gave it to Clidamant; here, said he, take a view of this, and keep it till you have seen the Original, which in a proper time you may likewise. Clidamant observed this Picture as one that had been altogether deprived of sense, he had not so much as the power to move a step forwards, but stood still to take a strict view of all the parts of it. Gods! said he to Theo­cles, this does far exceed all that I could imagine to be most Beautiful! and how far does this Face excel the description you made of her? if her Idea or Copy then be so excellent, doubtless her Person must be Incomparable; [Page 58]for the Painter could not be so cunning sure, but he hath missed some of the best Features; and though he hath represented a Skin whiter than Alabaster, yet I am apt to fancy he hath not brought it to the clearness of hers: then, said he, first looking upon the Picture, and then upon Theocles, in truth this hath a near resemblance of your Features; and yet methinks I see some­thing in you that seems to exceed some Per­fections in this Face: however, this is the re­semblance of a Treasure worthy of our won­der; and now I find I have no more love for Emilia, than just as much as may make me say I do not hate her. A Star of the first Magni­tude is glorious, so is Emilia; but as the Beau­ty of the Sun doth far exceed that, so doth this dazling Beauty out-shiue the Brightness of hers; and though my eyes were never bless'd with the sight of this Fair Object; yet may I safely say, that never any had a love in store for those they never saw, like that which lies concealed in my Breast for her.

Thus they discoursed while they walked, he admiring what he saw, and Theocles giving him encouragement to continue his admiration, till they came to a solitary place in the Grove, where the thickness of the Trees combined to­gether, to make a thicker shade than in the other parts of the Wood; which, though lone­ly, was exceeding delightful: Thither were they no sooner arrived, but they were surprized with a mournful note, as it were of complain­ings issuing from the thickest parts of those [Page 59]Trees near which they were; they stood some time a little still to listen, and thought they should know the Voice; and softly approach­ing a little nearer, they could distinguish what he said; which was very pittiful, and much after this manner;

Ye Powers! why have you deprived me of the only comfort I had of my Life, and let me live? No, no, my only joy! now is the time! now is the time! I must follow thee! when my Soul in Airy-mists, pure and white as the Love I bear thee, shall ascend and meet thee in the middle Region; where sitting on a Golden-Cloud, I'll fly into thy Downy Bosome, whose softning Charms shall melt me into Dew; when being ready to drop down upon the Flowers here below, thy powerful Beauty shall (like the Sun) raise me up again; then in each others Arms we will gently fly from that lower part through a more refined Air, till we have reached the Starry-Orb; and in the Milky-way we will spend some time in chaste Embraces, and unde­filing Kisses; and to the Harmony of the Hea­venly Sphere we will dance our way into Elizi­um, where we will obtain all pleasing Satisfacti­on; where we will be Crowned with everlast­ing Love; and where we will triumph over Death, and obtain leave of the Gods to make it our perpetual abode. I am coming, Mellissa! said he, I am coming! Pretty Nymph! when he said this, Clidamant chanced to get a sight of him through the Trees; when he was just going to fall upon his Sword, they both rushed in, and [Page 60]prevented him, and were not a little glad of it, because they first heard, and then saw that it was the lost Agenoris, so long mourn'd for by all that knew him. He was a little astonished at their sudden coming upon him; but being come to himself, said he to them, endeavouring to get from them, when I was here before, I took you both for my Friends, but this action of yours doth now make me believe otherwise: If you had a respect for me, you would suffer me to do what I would with my self, since what I do is for my own ease, and future happiness. Do you think I must out-live Mellissa? nay, do you think I can? these eyes, said he, these wretch­ed eyes were witness of her cruel death! I will therefore deprive them of sight by mine! they would not consent to what was so injurious to himself. After they had given him some com­fort, they perswaded him to go with them to the Castle; where, when he was come, he was welcomed with all the joy they were capable of expressing, which did plainly evidence how generally he was beloved by them all; yet when they saw his humour so altred, and melan­choly so predominant in him, we are not able to think how great their trouble was. Emilia was discontented, and Clidamant, notwithstand­ing his late cause of joy was sad. Theocles was very much interessed, they were all unsatisfied till they could know the Original cause of Age­noris his affliction, and which they believed they should never know till they could find him in a condition to relate his Adventures, that they [Page 61]likewise might know where he had been all this time; they were silent for six or seven days, but afterwards they presumed to intreat him; and though he knew it would but renew his sorrow to relate his sufferings. Yet since nothing could lessen it but the sight of Mellissa living, and since they were his Friends that importuned him; he one day began his Story in this man­ner.

THe light of the Sun had scarce dissipated the thick mists of Darkness, when most of his Illustrious Family had left their Beds again: Theocles was the first to whom the brightness of the Morning gave an invitation to walk into the Garden adjoyning to the House; he was seconded by a Lady that wait­ed on Emilia, whose name was Livia, and who was the best beloved by her Mistress of any of her Attendance; she was carressed by one Theobaldus, a Servant that waited upon Theocles, and to whom she gave little cause of despair, for her inclination seemed to tend much towards him; but he on the contary (as most young Lovers do) after they have loved a little while, seemed much colder in his purpose to her than he was before, which made her think he began to grow weary of loving her, and that loving Novelty better, he [Page 96]had made choice of a new object, to bestow there what he had taken from her. This, as we must needs think, raised some disturbance in her mind, which made her, at that time, desire to be pri­vate, that she might consult her thoughts with more leisure in what she had best to do. Af­ter she had set her self down then in the midst of the Garden, by the side of a Foun­tain, where her Eyes were fixed upon the spouting of the Water out of a Dolphins mouth, upon which, by the reflection of the Sun, from its cleerness as it came forth, might be discovered a perfect Rain-bow, with all those colours as are to be seen in the heavenly one. After she had spent some of her thoughts in this delightful place, she walked from thence through a middle Walk that led her under a close and fresh Arbour, which was above in a Terras walk, it was ve­ry private and solitary, and the Terras walk is separated from the place wherein she was by a thick Hedge, cut on the top smooth, and like a square, about the middle of which, towards the other end of the Garden, are six stone Steps, whereby you ascend up into the Walk, and di­rectly at the other end is another Arbour, made after the same manner as this; she stayed there not long but something imployed her mind other­ways, for she thought she heard somebody talk in the Arbour, and giving near notice to it, it seemed to be the voice of one complaining, which saluted her ears, much after this man­ner: [Page 97] I love, and I likewise find I may have hope of being beloved again, yet he whose love I crave, knoweth me not; he seemeth to respect me as his friend, but do I desire nothing more sensible? and yet methinks I am unjust to blame him for what he doth not know, for in the disguise I am in, how can I expect he should know what I would have him? yet how dare I reveal it to him? is there not a kind of modesty that restrains me, from giving my tongue that liberty? Alas! I can but think if I should go about it, how imperfect­ly and with what faltring Speech I should acquit my self of it; nay my very Blushes would manifest my weakness to him. Ah Clidamant, what way shall I make use of then to discover to thee that secret thou least dreamest of? Ah Clarinda, thou art clearly lost, happy hadst thou been if thou hadst never left Creet; but why do I say so, when I account all my happiness to be in Cyprus? Should I tell him what I am, and that I love him? can I think it would not be the way to make me lose his favour, and by imagining my humour to be light by such a declaration? can I imagine too that he would not reject my generous prof­fer? But stay — I think I have begun a way al­ready wherein, if I proceed, I may accomplish my de­sign with prudence: that picture I gave him may help me much in it, Courage then Clarinda.

After these words were spoke, Livia ran to the stone Steps to get to the Arbour to see who this Clarinda was, where when she came she found it to be Theocles, at which, being at first not a little amazed, it made him suspect that she had heard his discourse; wherefore to prevent her from speaking, and with a troubled countenance; he [Page 98]said, I doubt not Livia but your Ears were wit­nesses of some foolish Discourses I made but even now to my self, but I imagin you are too discreet to believe them, or if you do, you are too pru­dent to publish them, especially to those from whom they ought to be most concealed: What I have heard, replyed Livia, I have too long su­spected not to believe: now confess then Theocles, confess to me, that you are a woman; if I can be serviceable to you in your Love-commerce, you may make use of one that will not betray you. Know then, Livia, replyed he, that I am a Wo­man, I am called Clarinda, and not to dissemble with you, I must not disown I love Clidamant, and that this Island was the first place of my Cap­tivity; I think I may not injoyn your secresie, since it were to suspect ill of you, for if my eyes de­ceive me not, you have a countenance that bears marks of more honesty and good nature. She would have proceeded, had not Livia told her how great the obligations were she owed her for those good Sentiments she had of her, and that she might be sure she would endeavour to conserve her self in her good opinion by keeping that concealed which was now discovered to her. Theocles then took his leave of her to go in to the rest of the company, because his too long stay might not raise some suspicion in them. Livia continued still in the Garden, where, after she had fetched a great many turns, she chanced to come near the other Arbour in the Terras-walk that was op­posite to this, where she had heard Theocles, and there she heard a noise, much after the same na­ture [Page 99]she had heard in the former, and listning more attentively to it, she thought it resembled the voice of Emilia her Mistress, which made her half suspect the Garden was Inchanted; she was resolved to hear what it was she said, because she had had a suspicion a great while, that she was in Love, by reason she was more retired and melancholy than she was wont to be, but with whom she could not divine, for she knew that Orontus was slighted by her, wherefore she had the patience to hear these words:

I find I am unjust for being so cruel to Orontus, but alas had it not been for Theocles, I could not have given my self these reproaches: yet when I think with what an indifferent Eye he looketh upon me, it sometimes causeth me to say to my self, Thou hast deserved to be thus treated, Emi­lia, for rejecting true Love for indifferency: but then Theocles knows not who loves him, if he did, perhaps he would carry himself with more com­plaisance towards me. Alas, these are but sup­positions too, for how could he choose but take notice of thy looks, Emilia, when thou wert in his presence; what man is so stupid that cannot read love in a womans face, when her eyes sparkle and dart pleasing glances upon the object belo­ved? when a blush intermixt with a smile and a languishing look upon her lover, doth show with what constraint she would conceal her weakness. Then proceeded she: Perhaps this Letter I have writ may not make me altogether despair, and though he may thereby think me bold, yet since I shall not be present to blush before him, it will [Page 100]not so much confound me; besides, I know he is too generous to give a bad construction on what a Lady sends him. In saying this she went forth of the Arbour into the Terras-walk, and Livia retched a turn another way; nevertheless in a small time after Emilia spied her, and beckoned her to come to her, and accordingly she obeyed: Livia, said she, the experience I have had of thy fidelity, doth not make me scruple to tell thee of the most inward passages of my heart; If I tell thee then that I love Theocles, I hope thou wilt not condemn me since thou art guilty of the same crime (if it be a crime) by loving Theobaldus. Follow the instructions that I shall give thee; touching my intrigue with Theocles, and as thou hast been true to me hitherto, continue so for the future, and I do promise thee, I will bring it about, that Theobaldus shall be thy Husband, nay and more than that, I will give thee thy Wedding-Gown when thou marryest him. Livia smiled at these words, and modestly seemed to thank her: But (said Emilia, proceeding in her Di­scourse, and holding a Letter in her hand) this Letter, Livia, I'l recommend to thy care, it is for Theocles, do not give it him thy self, but leave it to Orontus, and tell him from me, that if he hopes for any favour from me, he must give it to Theocles with his own hand; and withal, let him know, that in it I have fully expressed my mind to his friend, concerning the resolution I'l take. Livia told her, That she might assure her self, that she would acquit her self of this Commission, as she desired. Whereupon Livia [Page 101]left her to effect her commands; but when she was gone from her, how greatly did she wonder at the strangeness of this adventure, at least she thought it so; and had it not been that she had promised secresie to Theocles, she had told Emilia that he was in a woman: these things could not choose but seem odd to her, Theocles is in love with Clidamant, who takes Theocles for a man, and Clidamant is in love with a Picture, the ori­ginal of which, he believes, he never saw, when he sees the true one every day: Emilia on the other side loves Theocles, whom she know not to be a woman, and rejects the love of Orontus, who long had been her constant adorer: upon all which circumstances, when Livia reflected, it was both a trouble and a pastime to her; she would not deliver Emilia's Letter presently to Orontus, but stayed two or three days to find out an op­portunity, in which time she did, and gave the Letter to him, with the Instructions she had re­ceived from her Mistress; he seemed very glad of it, but could not deliver it presently to Theocles, because of the pleasant Comedy that was passing between him and Clidamant, and seeing them in in discourse together, as he thought, about some private affair, he out of civility retired. Being gone, I must confess, Theocles, said Clidamant, that the oftner I look upon the Picture I received from you, I every time discover things that are more remarkable in it than I did before; I find in the Face now wonders, which does every mi­nute even add more fuel to make that fire burn the fiercer that consumes me; I confess I once [Page 102]loved Emilia, and to all outward appearance, most tenderly; yet I find the love I have for this Idaea, doth manifest that it is possible to be endued with a love more tender than ever that was; and as my love to this unknown fair one doth daily in­crease, so doth likewise my curiosity to see the person whom this Piece resembles. Then with a look that almost spoke what he desired; It is now a great while, Theocles, said he, since you promised me a sight of this beautiful Creature; when must be the time then, that I must see what I never yet did, but ever shall love? when must my eyes en­joy a happiness that doth doubtless surpass all beautiful objects I ever yet saw? and when, Theocles, when shall I with an awe, that shall evidence as much the fear I have to offend, as the desire my love inspires me with to please her, let her know by whom she is adored and admired, and who it is her shadow only hath made a Cap­tive?

Are you resolved then, replyed Theocles, to make choice of no Woman but the choice I have already made for you? you have the Picture of her I have pitched upon for you, and now it shall not be long before you have seen the party it was drawn for. Now you are kind, Theocles, said Clida­mant, the choice which you have made for me, I like so well, that if I would, yet would not my inclination permit me to love any other; there­fore it is she that must give me either Life or Death, and I have some glimps of hope, by what you have told me of her, that her pitty may cause her to be inclined to the first rather than to [Page 103]the latter. Then, said Theocles smiling, I per­ceive you think to make an easie conquest of her, before you have seen her: In truth your humour is pleasant; you have so good an opinion of her I see, that you think she loves no delays by a tedious courtship: in that perhaps too she may agree with you, for she may think them super­fluous; yet let me tell you, Clidamont, that though she doth not love superfluities, she is so prudent that she loves to try her pretendets, before she will let them know her mind, and then whoever she thinks most worthy, them to be sure she will gratifie. Suppose me, Clidamant, to be that La­dy, whom you pretend to love, and whom that Picture represents, and let me see after what gallant manner you will Court me, to make me increase the good opinion I have of you. Agreed, answered Clidamant, it is but a frolick, and how­ever you shall see that I'll behave my self before you, as if I were in her presence; then making a low obeysance to Theocles, he thus began; Madam, I need not tell you how much I was your admirer before I saw you, for that were to say, that Nature had not framed you more per­fect than the Painter hath done, but when I tell you that his Workmanship did first inspire my heart with love, I hope, Madam, you will with reason believe that the works of Nature being more fair and perfect than their representations, that if I loved you then, I love you more now than ever; I believed I could love any, and as the Painters in their Land-skips of Woods, Rocks, Meadows, and every thing else that is made to [Page 104]please the eye and fancy, cannot in picturing the the Heavens draw the Sun with that splendour it therein appears, but only by some faint stroaks re­present the beams it sends forth a little before its rising, or sometime after its setting, so shew what they would do, if they could: even so, doubtless, Lady, he could do no other by you, some shining rayes he has adormed you with, to let the beholder see, that what he imitated was extraordinary, and that he would fain have done more, if his cunning could have accomplished it.— He was proceeding, when his seemingly pretended Lady prevented him, saying, You are very expert, Clidamant, at your subtil flattering expressions, to steal a Ladys heart away when she is farthest from suspecting of any such thing; but alas, you Gallants are all alike, you will swear by Heaven, and all that's most Holy therein; and by that which you flatteringly term Beauty, that you adore your Mistresses with such a resolute constancy, as cannot be parallelled; and yet a new object extinguisheth those desires you had for the first, to be rekindled in your mind for the second, insomuch that all your pretended con­stancy consisteth in being constantly inconstant; which quality, if a Lady knows a Gentleman to be endowed with, can you think (if she be wise) that she will give him any incouragement in his pretensions to her? I understood, Clida­mant, by a friend of mine, that your humour doth not much differ from this, and that you once loved a fair Lady, whose Beauty, I am sure, de­serves not to be slighted by you, for the sight of [Page 105]any new face whatsoever; yet because you love not to Love too long forsooth in one place, you have forsook her to deceive another in the same kind. Ah Madam, said he passionately, call you that inconstancy, when the cruel rigour of her you speak of, forced me to that I should other­wise never have done, had I received that favour from her I most desired, I mean her Love, and after this obligation, had I ingratefully forsaken her, then might I have been termed inconstant, and then might she have said, False Man, is this my recompence? have I deserved this for making my tongue and heart agree? But since her greatest desire was to be freed from my importunities, and since the greatest kindness I could do her, was to be seldom in her presence, which did plain­ly testifie the aversion she had towards me; what should I have done, Madam, since I could never so much as hope for what I desired? did I not make use of the best means, by courageously con­quering this sullen passion? and truly, Madam, it is none but you I must render thanks for taking me out of this Captivity, to bring me, I hope, to one so pleasing to me, that thereby I may fancy my self to be at more liberty, by wearing your chains, and to tast more sweetness than ever my life did afford me, when I thought my self at the very height of freedom: give me then that love the rigour of my first Mistress refused me, and by my constancy you'l find how lasting and true mine is: I shall then likewise enjoy those sweets I before mentioned, and which I hitherto did never find. Here Theocles sighed, and then said, [Page 106]Well Clidamant, I'll try how faithful you will be to her you love. But Lord, what do I say, pro­ceeded she, I have made a promise to my self to love no body, that promise is unjust; No body? said Clidamant: but Clidamant, answered she; and in speaking that, she blushed so extremely, that if she had not cunningly, upon some pre­tence turned her face another way, she would doubtless have betrayed her self: this then made her resolve to break off this discourse, which though perhaps she thought not very unpleasant, how­ever she imagined it might reveal a weakness in her, which she had, as yet, no mind to have discovered. After then she had rallied with him, upon what had passed between them, their discour­ses were concerning matters altogether indiffe­rent, in which interim Orontus entred, and whi­spering Theocles in the ear, told him, he had some­thing to deliver him from Emilia; Clidamant thinking it not decency to remain there any longer, departed the Room, and scarce was he gone, when Orontus produced the Letter, and delivered it to Theocles, telling him that Emilia had certified him in that Letter, concerning the resolution she would take touching himself. Theo­cles opened it, and with much amazement read these words: [Page 107]

Orontus asked Theocles after he had read the Letter, whether there was any comfort in it for him? Theocles looks then began to be troubled, but clearing them up again as well as he could, not to make Orontus suspect what he had most rea­son to fear; and having thought what to an­swer, bid him take courage, for it was all so fa­vourable on his behalf, that if he saw it he would scarce believe it: and to that end therefore she had in it forbid him to let him see it, because she had no desire to let him too soon know that which would so much please him. If, said Theo­cles, I have told you what perhaps you should not know, I doubt not but you are so discreet, as to behave your self so before her, as if you knew it not; and however cruel she seems to you, let not that cause your trouble, because I tell you she hath here expressed her self more favourably perhaps then you could think: and after he had begged his pardon of him, for not shewing him the Letter, poor Orontus departed the Chamber with a very joyful heart, little thinking after what manner he was deceived. When he was gone, Theocles was at a stand to know what he should do in this intricate business; but he con­tinued so not long, because he thought he had found out a way to help Orontus to what in all likelihood he was so far distant from: which this design in his head then he quitted the Cham­ber, with an intention to visit Emilia, whom he happily found in her own apartment, seem­ing to be very melancholy, for there was no body with her but Livia, at his first entring into the [Page 109]Chamber she turned her face away to conceal some blushes from him, which she had no mind he should see: by which modest bashfulness Theo­cles nevertheless might perceive, that she was in­clined to a constrained repentance, for sending that favourable Letter. Therefore said he to her (be­cause, as yet, he had no desire to let her know what he was) Madam, though your beauty be capable to charm the very Gods themselves, and to make them forsake their heaven, for one more delightful here below; though all the graces that dwell in that face, and the pure carnation which nature hath spread in those cheeks that dart forth such powerful influences, as to make all those that behold you become your Captives: and Madam, though I am one among the rest, the love of you must kill, but not permit me to pretend to what will make me undeserving of those high favours you have conferred upon me, which indeed have been so great, that by giving you a denyal, I may appear to you in some sort ungrateful, yet I hope, Madam, when you shall consider that on the other side, I shall be not only ungrateful but perfidious, by betraying my friend, who intrusted me with his hearts most secret passages, and who not only did that, but imployed me to indeavour to obtain that from you, which he himself could never do; you can­not be so unjust as to suffer it: Shall I then be­tray poor Orontus that loves you, and puts his confidence in me? Shall I do that, Madam, which I, when I have done, you will with justice esteem me unworthy of what I wish I could tell how to [Page 110]accept or receive otherwise? Besides, he that will be unfaithful to his friend, will certainly be so to any other; may not you with reason fear then Madam, (after such an action) that I would be so to you?

Am I then slighted by you Theocles? replied Emilia, ungrateful Man! are Ladys so prodigal of such favours as I have thrown upon you, as this ought to be esteemed of so? No, no, pro­ceeded she, I did not expect this requital: thy baseness, unwòrthy man, shall now banish thee from my mind for ever; I'll conquer that which hath made me indanger my honour, and which I only have done by saying, I loved thee; yet this poor refusal from thee is returned me, instead of affection, and though my love was honourable (as I imagine; if you know me, you think no otherwise) I see you prize a Friend more than a Mistress, the tender love of which doth far better deserve that name than the other; love and friendship are there so linked together, that such a one deserves to be called the friend of friends. But notwithstanding, all this disdain and scorn must be the effect of your ill-bred Gallantry.

I beseech you forbear these injuries, Madam, (said Theocles, in interrupting) her when I tell you that you have overcome; I may with reason call them so; and though I never yet loved woman, I find your eyes are inducements too perswasive to make me be still in love with freedom; and yet methinks I wish I could not love you, that you might love despairing Orontus, whom you will [Page 111]doubtless kill. But alas, I find (said he, with a coun­terfeit sigh) that my love is too great, to let my Rival have what I would solely have to my self. I could likewise wish, said Emilia, that I could love Orontus his person, I confess it is not unhandsom, neither are his parts unanswerable to it; but yet if I may say so, Theocles, I find I know not what in you, which I cannot see in Orontus; I find some­thing so worthy of my affection, that my very reason doth seem to say to me, fix thy love there, Emilia: and now since you have begun to de­serve what I doubt not but I have worthily placed, let me see how constant you will prove.

You shall find I shall not be unconstant, re­plyed Theocles; but Madam, as a mark of that love you are pleased to bestow upon your unwor­thy servant, may I presume to ask you to grant a request, I am going to demand of you? What is it Theocles? said she: But a promise, (Madam, an­swered he) of no great importance. 'Tis granted already, what ever it be, said she; therefore pray let me hear it. Only, proceeded he, that if ever it should happen, that you refuse to make me your Bride-groom, you would confer that happi­ness on Orontus, with the love you bear me. If that be all, said she, I do once again confirm my promise; for should I ever refuse you, it would be me you might first tax with incon­stancy; but that I am certain will never come to pass. I wish the thing you made me promise had been of greater consequence, added she, for I find I can deny you nothing that is decent. Then Madam, said Theocles, (because he would par­take [Page 112]of some Mirth) I'l be bold to beg another favour of you. You shall likewise have it, said she, therefore let me know your desire. My de­sire is only, Madam, said he, smiling, That you would let me seal the Covenant, that was now made between us. How do you mean Theocles? replied she: Upon those cherry Lips, Madam, said he. Whereupon he presently saluted her, which made the Roses of her Cheeks wear a deeper dye then they did before: and Orontus entred the Chamber in the same instant, and saw him do that which did not a little displease him. During his stay there, Theocles read an anger in his coun­tenance, which he feared would too soon break out; yet he smiled in himself, to think how causless his anger was, if he knew all. the more cruel his Mistress seemed to him, the more did his trouble seem to increase; and had it not been for the respect of her, in whose pre­sence he was, he had doubtless made an open manifestation of his displeasure on Theocles; who, because he would give him no further oc­casion, went forth of the room. Orontus ima­gined Emilia to be far more rigorous to him than she had been yet, and therefore his suspicion that Theocles had done him a discourtesie in­creased the more: he seeing then that all his pro­testations, all his vows to her of the faithful­ness of his love, and all his unfained sighs, did seem but the more to harden that heart he indea­voured to soften, took his leave of her soon after Theocles, even with the tears in his eyes, and scarce was he got out of the chamber door, but [Page 113]he found a piece of Paper handsomly wrapped up like a Letter, which it seems Theocles had chanced to drop out of his Pocket; Orontus had no sooner found it, but looking upon it, there it was he saw Emilia to Theocles: he had both the curiosity and patience to see what it contained, which when he understood, you must needs think the latter left him to give way to rage, and the first continued to find out Theocles, whom he swore he would kill, wheresoever he met him; he raved, stamped, and poured forth all the im­precations he could invent against poor Theocles; he called him whatever can be thought most vile; and not long after finding him by chance, by the Sea-side, he thus accosted him, with his na­ked Sword in one hand and Emilia's Letter in the other.

Insolent Traytor, canst thou think to breath in this innocent Air, after thy perfidious, false and unworthy Action? was it this Letter gave thee incouragement, to behave thy self with that baseness? and she, O cruel Woman! does she hate me, to love this Traytor? but my Sword, said he, flourishing of it in his hand, shall chastise thee, therefore defend thy self, if thy guilt will permit thee to fight in so bad a cause.

Hold Orontus, said theocles, trembling, because he never had been used to such Weapons, whose very glittering struck terrour into him; I am no Traytor Orontus, as you believe me to be, but on the contrary, you will find that I have done you service. Bold affronter! replyed Orontus, what dost thou deride me after thy treacheries? did I not [Page 114]with these eyes see what thou didst to abuse me, when I came into her Chamber? did you not also deceive me, by telling me what she never writ? wherefore I will not believe any thing you shall say more.

He was going to bid him draw, when Agenoris and Clidamant were come towards them, and ha­ving asked Orontus the meaning of the posture they saw him in, he excused it with a Joak, which was likewise forwarded by Theocles, for they were not so near them, as to hear what they spake. Orontus then for the present dissembled his trouble, and they both accompanied Agenoris, whom Clidamant had perswaded to walk out, to divert himself, for grief had so changed him, and melancholy was so predominant in him, ever since his return home, for the loss of her he so dearly loved, that it was to be feared it would kill him, if they did not try to prevent it, by causing him sometime to take the Air, and to use all manner of noble and heroick exercises, to expel that tor­menting Grief, the chiefest of which was Hunt­ing; but alas, he took little pleasure in it, for sometimes would he stray from the rest of his com­pany, and retiring to some solitary place, there would he to the Trees, and to the senceless Flow­ers, that embellished the Grass, give a pretty, though mournful account, of his present suffer­ings, and from the yearly droppings of the Dew from their fragrant tops, would he some­times extract comfort, because they seemed to be his companions in sorrow, and to weep with him. All those that did for the most part accompany [Page 115]him, did labour by all the Pastimes, Exercises, and Diversions they could invent, to dissipate those foggy smoaks of sorrow; but they might as well indeavour to stop the course of a Ship in a furious storm, or call back time, and they would both have come to the same effect; for alas, no­thing but Mellissa had that vertue, reason was too weak with him to overcome his grief; the absence and death of his Love made it the more excessive, the thoughts of greatness and Ma­jesty were forgot to think of his dead Shepher­dess.

After they had fetched two or three turns upon the Sea-shore, all the company but Theocles returned to the Castle, whither they were scarce come, but with a common consent they went into Emilia's Chamber, to entertain her, the subject of their discourse was for the most part indiffe­rent, till at length, coming to discourse of Love, especially of the sincerity with which Agenoris loved; Verily, said Clidamant, we must be for­ced to confess, by the sad experience we have now had of Loves dire effects, that the little stripling is not to be mocked at, for on my word, we are all witnesses, nay, and some of us know that he doth generally stick his Arrows very deep, he is almost like Death, though not so terrible, he makes no distinction between Monarchs and others. Lord! how unruly, how restless is a love-sick heart? our desires continue always dissatisfied, till we have got what we most desired, and then our pain is somewhat eased.

Love (though by some dull fools it is termed [Page 116]the most slavish of Passions) yet ought it to be esteemed the most Noble: Anger doth often­times make a man forget his Honour, and do those things which are always ended with a deep repentance: Love on the contrary raises a mans thoughts to something more sublime, and cau­seth a man to seek Honour, to appear so in the eyes of her he loves; and the end of Love is joy and satisfaction. Fear there are several sorts of, there is fear in Love, a fear of offending the ob­ject loved, not a cowardly slavish fear, but a he­roick and meritorious fear.

That servile passion that makes a man fear his own shadow is here not meant, nor that which makes men tremble at the sight of War-like In­struments, nor that which some have of Death, for a true Lover will sacrifice his Life on any oc­casion for his Mistress: these are the fears which Lovers seldom or never have, by what they have not, you may with ease guess what that pure fear is they have, or should have, for Love is not Love without it, nay it cannot subsist. Some are so rigid and moross, as to make no di­stinction between Love and Lust, but it must be confessed that these are those that never knew what the first was, though by having acquain­tance with the latter, they would seem to force the World into a belief, that their Vices are general, and that a man may also love with constancy and purity, and yet not be a Platonick lover; it is so certain, that I think it a folly to dispute it.

How deeply I love the memory of my Shep­herdess, [Page 117]said Agenoris, though fate hath too soon deprived me of her, and how purely I lo­ved her before she was snatched from my presence, notwithstanding she gave me no hopes I should ever taste the sensible pleasures of Love; how I loved, I say, you can all witness, which Love I suppose you can find no reason to call Lust; had I indeavoured to seduce her, and make her submit to my unlawful desires (but Heaven knows my desires were limited, I may in a manner say by her sight and company) my care would then have extended no further than to have compas­sed my vitious aims; but since I did not, it makes me find a clear distinction between Love and Lust; there is sweetness to be found in the first, but bitterness in the last; the first is clean and spotless, the latter is filthy and black: yet is not my Love Platonical neither, though it inspired me with a desire of obtaining what I loved.

What I am going to tell you, said Clidamant, may perhaps seem strange to you, though it agree well with what you say (so pulling out his Picture, that Theocles had given him) and shewing it to Agenoris and the rest of the company: This Pi­cture, added he, I am in love with, whether the party it resembles be in being or no, or whether the Painter hath gone no further here than his own fancy told him, I know not, but I had it from Theocles; and so he related to them all that Theocles had told him concerning this Lady, and the promise Theocles had caused him to make, touch­ing the Mistress he was to chuse him: they were mightily surprised at the beauty of the face, and [Page 118]did acknowledge it to be truly admirable: they had not discoursed above four hours, when Livia, who had been out of the Chamber a great while entred it again, followed by a young Lady in the most glorious Apparel, and with the most ma­jestical presence that eyes ever saw, or heart ever admired; her head was covered with a Vail, whereby the most beautiful part, her face was like the Sun, when shadowed by some interpo­sing Cloud unseen; her Apparel was blue Sat­ten, and covered so thick with flowers of Gold, intermingled with precious Stones, that where­ever she came her sparkling presence seemed to create a new day; her Train was held up by a Rage, and on the left hand of her, walked a grave old man in Apparel suitable to his years. The eyes of the company were all not only fixed upon this prodigious object, but all of them won­dered who it should be, and to what her coming thither tended: but Livia soon made their won­der cease, when leading her before them, and pulling up her Vail, Behold here, said she, in directing her speech to Agenoris, the lost Mellissa. No sooner had she ended these words, but Age­neris having discovered it to be indeed that Mel­lissa he thought was no more, he would scarce believe what he with his eyes saw, nay, he thought they were deluded, and that it was only the strength of his imagination, that made him conceive, what he in all likelihood believed to be impos­sible. His wonder was not unaccompanied, for the rest were in as great admiration as he. He sat still a while, making use of no other Language [Page 119]but his eyes, which were intentively fixed upon this charming Nymph, and beholding her both with fear and joy, she continuing silent. Do I dream? said he, if I do, may I thus dream for ever. Or is it possible, beautious Angel, that the Gods have yet reserved thee to shine here below? Miracle of Miracles! I must confess thou wouldst have graced the Heavens with a new Star, the brightness of whose beams, would, like the Sun, have obscured all other lights. But who knows but they have done it for the good of us Mortals, that we may have our Sun here below, as they have thiers in their Heaven. Bright Queen of beau­ty, thou pretty reviver of disconsolate hearts, for without thee I had been without my self; with­out thee I had been a walking shadow, a meer nothing, a meer lump of Snow, melting away without pity under the Sun beams. I know thou did'st remember there was an Agenoris in the world that loved thee, and to doubt that thou sometimes gavest him a gentle entertainment in thy thoughts, were to reproach thee of what thou canst not be guilty of. Here Livia beckoned him to be a while silent, because Mellissa gave him no answer, therefore she spoke to him in this sort:

How much you are deceived, Agenoris, I cannot forbear to interrupt you, that I may un­deceive you as well as the rest of this company. Now you have been all so credulous to believe me, when I told you this was Mellissa, what will you say, when I tell you it is not Mellissa,— although it once was she, but alass, she is now changed.—

Gods! said Agenoris, What is it I hear, it can­not be? speak not the rest, for fear I should be­lieve the Heavens to be without Gods, and so be­come Infidel, for as soon may that be, as she be taxed with unconstancy. Yet speak what you have more to say, for I can hear, though not believe, I am so well acquainted with her Ver­tues.

Know then, said Livia, that she hath changed her condition.

Ah! worse and worse! said he, pray Heaven my fears augment not; but since I have begun to know my doom, I am resolved now to hear the utmost; and still methinks my mind gives me, that Mellissa's soul cannot be black, sure she can­not. Must I attribute this her silence, to be a confirmation of Livia's discourse, or may it be her modesty that I wrong, in supposing it to be guilty? be it what it will, I must know.

Then said he to Livia, Is she espoused? Yes my Lord, replied Livia. Now my fears are out, said he, unkind and hard hearted Maid: Was it for this, I have been always dying, since the time I parted from thee? Mellissa made no reply, but held down her head. And then said he to Livia, To whom is she espoused? To a better Fate, said Livia. I am still in the dark, replied Agenoris, prithee, Livia, explain thy self more at large, for my heart doth almost seem to check my tongue, for calling her unkind, though by all thou hast hitherto told me, I do seem to say just­ly, therefore pray rid me from this trouble and confusion.

My Lord, I am going to obey you, said Livia, and shall draw a shady cloud from before your eyes, that in clearing all your doubts and fears, will notwithstanding raise a new subject of wonder among you all. Look upon this Lady then, said she, in pointing to Mellissa, no more as Mellissa, who was a Shepherdess, poor in every thing but her Vertues and Beauty, but behold her to be the divine Alcandra, Princess of Sicily; she that was supposed to dye before she was three years old, she who is endued with all the excellencies that are capable of adorning Majesty; she who when she was supposed a Shepherdess, had even then the port and grace of what her Birth hath really made her. I shall not indeavour to perswade you to believe what I say, because, said she, point­ing to the ancient Gentleman, that Lord will produce those proofs that will make it plain enough.

They were all so transported with amazement at these unexpected tidings, that they knew not in a manner what to think or say; they all com­plemented her in the best manner they could, and Agenoris was the first, with one Knee on the ground, that kissed her hand, whom all the rest did imitate, which they had scarce done, when she addressed her Speech to Agenoris in this man­ner?

I am now come to make good my word with you, Agenoris, fortune hath now, beyond my ex­pectation, shined favourably upon me; you know what I promised you, and now I can with my Love bestow a Crown upon you, which I would [Page 122]intreat you to accept of, as a debt due to your noble constancy. You, that are a Gentleman, did cast down a look upon me, when I was no other than a Shepherdess; and I, whom fate hath seemed to raise above you, in placing me in a Throne, should be indeed ingrateful, to forget my Vows to Agenoris, after such tokens of generosity. If up­on my first approach to you, you perceived me to be silent, and if Livia, likewise, gave you doubt­ful answers to your demands, according to the or­der I gave her, imagine it to be, because I was curious to know whether Age oris had not forgot his Mellissa, for by this tryal, I believed, I could find out how you would brook my separation from you, by my pretended inconstancy. The Oracle, Agenoris, is now explained, your own eyes seemed to be witnesses of my Death, when mine did likewise behold the like Spectacle of yours; the approaching danger the Gods foretold is now over, wherefore we must expect our fill of happiness.

Pardon me, divine Madam, said Agenoris, if the Gods have not accomplished all they foretold; I must acknowledge I am of Princely Blood, but fortune hath not so inriched me with her boun­ties, as to make me deserve such large ones as you are pleased to express. Alas, I have no King­dom to bestow, Madam, I have nothing that may make me seem worthy in your eyes, if you will give me leave to say to my self, I love you (and truly I love more than I can say) that is all I do presume to ask. Yet, Madam, the same promise your goodness once made me, the same will I [Page 123]here confirm to you, if fortune should hereafter chance to smile, then, Madam, I'll beg that you would too. I am sorry that fate will not let me hope for what I must love, and in the state I am in, it is a grace too too great, that you would give me leave to say so.

My noble Lord, replied Alcandra, ever since I first saw you, I have discerned some marks of greatness in your countenance, which indeed did ever make me believe what you have now told me; it is not possessions that create deserts, for then the most undeserving persons would be en­dued with merit; besides, my love is not so poor as to descend to things so abject as you mention; my flame is more noble, to love you only for what you do possess (except it be your Vertues and Merit) it were to love you impurely, or rather it were not to love you, therefore cancel your rash promise.—

Agenoris was just going to answer, had it not been for another Lady that came into the Cham­ber at that instant, who having first made a low obeissance to Agenoris and the rest of the company, who all beheld her with great astonishment, especi­ally Clidamant, who thought she somewhat resem­bled the Picture he had, yet he could not believe it to be she, for whom it was drawn, because the Picture was not so beautiful: but much more were they surprized when she told them that they all once knew her as Theocles, a man, but never yet as Clarinda, a woman. I shall not need to de­fire you to call me the latter, said she, because you see my Sex not only requires it, but it is [Page 124]also a name that is real, whereas the first was feigned. They remained all of them some time silent, they were so confounded, and they beheld her with admiration, for if when she seemed to be a man, she made one so handsom, that she was without comparison; now she was a woman she was so extremely fair and pretty, that no Sun could out-shine her. Clidamant blessed himself a thousand times, for that the Gods had been so favourable to him; what her Picture only excited in his soul, her presence did make it double: his extasie was so great, that he wanted words to utter his transports; but after he had a while si­lently admired at what he saw; Heavens! (said he to himself) what a divine Lady is here? who­ever sees her without a heart enflamed, he either loves not, or doth not know the sweet delights of Love.

Emilia was going to speak, when Clarinda pro­ceeded in her discourse. There are several things I know, said she, that may seem incredible to this Illustrious Company, if I should not explain them; one I know is my continuance in this disguise all this time; the other is the strangeness of my ari­val to this Island. As to the first, to speak truth, I had a desire to have my Sex concealed, but all that I shall say now, for to excuse my discovery, is only to intreat Emilia to remember her promise. However, said she, smiling, if she thinks me a fit Bridegroom for her, I am content.

Well, I see, replied Emilia, that notwithstand­ing all my strong resolutions to the contrary, I must refuse you now; I think I was guilty of no [Page 125]crime in loving you, since never any man was seen with a face so lovely, and though I loved you be­fore, imagining you to be the wonder of the Male Sex, my love must not forsake you now, because I must still love you as my dear friend.

However, said Clarinda, going to Orontus, and making him conduct her, or rather she him, Here said she, Orontus, causing Emilia to give him her hand, Now enjoy fair weather, after all this foul, she is yours, Orontus, she'll be no more cruel now for my sake, the love she bore me, she now bestows on you: see, said she, that blush doth now confirm what she promi­sed me.

Then, said Emilia, (in a low note, after she had composed her countenance, which was a little dis­ordered) since Promises should never be broke, and since Fate hath thus unexpectedly ordered things, I do not so much think, Orontus, said she, that you deserve to have a place here (laying her hand upon her heart) but also that your constancy and your long service may more than have deserved it; therefore to conser the love I had for Theocles on you, is the least I can do, but the most I am inclined to.

Then was it that Orontus saluted her hand, but with the greatest Rapture imaginable, and replied, I am so over-joyed, Madam, at this fulness of bliss, that I want words to thank you for it. And then directing his Speech to Clarinda; Can you pardon, Madam, the rudeness I lately committed against you, I must confess it was ignorance made me guilty of it, but I hope you are so good, that since now I know my fault, and am grown a pe­nitent, you will forgive me; the obligation like­wise [Page 126]I owe you, for this days happiness doth even stupifie my senses, when I think how little I have deserved this from you.

Clainda returned his complements in as gal­lant a manner as could be, when Emilia going to­wards Clidamant, whose eyes were stedfastly fixed upon the fair Clarinda, told her, That as she had been the occasion of extracting the performance of a promise from her, on the behalf of Orontus, she did now likewise expect, that she should do the like on the behalf of Clidamant: For, said Emilia to her, I know who it was you promised to bestow on Clidamant, nay, and he hath deser­ved her, I'll assure you, since he loved her so ten­derly before he saw her. Perhaps, (replied Cla­rinda, in a faint voice) he may not with justice do what he promised, because it is not unlikely that he hath found out some fair Lady, whose merits are far greater, wherefore I shall not urge him to perform what he hath promised. Ye Gods, said Clidamant, running to her, and saluting her fair hand with much eagerness, can I hear this, and not die? fair Jewel, said he, either suffer me to perform the promise I made to your dear self (for if you were once Theocles, it was to no other) and grant I may obtain what I have so long humbly sued for, or with the wound those shining eyes have given my heart, give me that which may end my days, for any thing (whatever it be) fair sweet­ness, if it come from you, it can be no other than welcome. Do you think I can kill you then, Cli­damant? said she, no; here, now take your Cla­rinda, if you die with any thing from me, it must [Page 127]be the excess of my love must kill you. Kind Love, I thank thee, said Clidamant, for affording me such heavenly Joys, thy Deity shall be ado­red by me, and thy Altars ever loaded with my Victims; and thou kind Nymph, who hast thus crowned my hopes with comfort, shall find so true a love in this poor heart inclosed, that shall almost make thee think it worthy of thy accep­tance. Here Agenoris interrupted him: This is a day, said he, that hath been filled with nothing but wonders, it ought to be solemnized for ha­ving produced such Miracles. Now, said he, you are all happy— But I, who am, and yet must not and who may, and yet dare not. Ye Gods, how just are you, thus to allay my happiness? Divine Princess, said he, in directing his Speech to Al­candra, I do adore you, but it is an adoration that nothing equalleth, but that I pay to the Gods themselves. The Princess was going to answer him, when Clarinda prevented him, by telling him, that doubtless what the Gods had done al­ready, they would complete, and therefore bid him not refuse what they offered him: so after a small pause; I am now going to let you under­stand, said she, the occasion of my being at Sea.

My Father, as I told you before, is Governour of a Town in Creet, on whom King Porus hath conferred many other Offices, by which you may perceive, he was not a little beloved by that Prince, but one Polianor had insinuated himself into the Kings favour, to that pitch, that he seemed among all the other Favorites at Court to be the best beloved, and being therefore one of no mean [Page 128]power, after he hd long courted me, under spe­cious pretences of Honour, to marry me, although by my cold entertaining him, he might have dis­cerned the aversion of my mind towards him, being one as deformed in Body, as low spirited in Soul, and one the baseness of whose extraction did seem to dwell in his Physiognomy, his Birth being so far from Noble, that the meanest slave in Creet had more reason to brag of his extraction than he, because he was raised meerly by the Kings favour; all his actions, which were sel­dom good, were winked at by the rest of the No­bility, although it did not a little trouble them, to have a person so far beneath them, take place of them, with so much haughtiness as he did. This Villain, I say, when he saw that I was deaf to his Courtship, when he seemed to caress me under the mask of Honour, provoked by an in­famous desire, came at length to solicite me un­lawfully, as if because I would not submit to him on virtuous terms, as he pretended, he should think that I would abandon my Honour, and after a passion, painted and coloured with sighs, he cal­led his presents to his asistance, but he saw it did but make me more soornful, and he had no sooner, on a certain day made some offers to me, that were indeed extremely rich, but I, in a fury, left him by himself, and from that time it was he be­gan to conspire my ruine, and to seek to get by force, what he could not obtain by merit; Lust not Love provoking him to attempt what ho­nour and his own spirit, had it any thing of ge­nerosity in it, would never let him rest till he had [Page 129]extinguishes a desire so abhominable; but alas such noble thoughts could never invade the mind of one whose Heart was like his Birth, filthy; for he was not only descended from the dregs of the People, but he was likewise unlawfully begotten: my Father had notice of his design, sometime before he endeavour­ed to put it in execution, and almost too late to have prevented it; for I being one day in a small Wilderness scituated in the midst of my Fathers Garden; Polianor, who had conti­nually his spies ready, being informed where I was, being as he thought a very fit place for him to execute his black design in, was preparing to come in to me, having procured a Key to the Door, which he had caused to be made on purpose; to execute with the more ease his detestable Enterprize: but my Fa­ther being just before informed by some spe­cial Friend of what he intended, came pre­sently to me, and caused me to come into the House; where being come, he gave me a Drink to frustrate the intent of Polianor, who had been in the Garden to search for me, but not finding me, went out again very un­satisfied; and being come into the Town, was there informed by the Rumour my Politique Father spread, that I was dead; for the Ver­tue of what I drank, procured me so great a sleep, that it seemed to all Spectators, as no other than the Sleep of Death. Polianor being somewhat rerrified at this sad News, came to behold it painted on my Face, and [Page 130]then a strange remorse quarreled with his lust, and his despair, or rather rage, arm'd him to kill himself; but whilst his Soul was troubled here withal, I was (being by Friends first dressed up in Mans Apparel, as you saw, for my better concealment) conveyed secretly into a Barck, and scarce had I finished my sleep, but at my first awaking, I found my self upon the Sea; which I did not so much wonder at, as at my strange Metamorphosis from a Woman to a Man: but a Friend of my Fathers, whom he intrusted to take care of me, and who was on board, soon helped me out of that trouble; and after he had told me that we were sail­ing towards Lydia, he related to me the whole Adventure, with the secret Imposture of my fained Death; when suddenly a storm broke the Discourse, and Horror and Death marched upon the Waters, and as I before told you, drove us upon a Rock, and split our Vessel all to pieces, not far from these Coasts: I doubt the Friend that was in the Bark with me, is drowned, I my self, as you see, having miraculously escaped.

I know not which of the Gods took care of me, but I cannot forbear to acknowledge how much I am indebted to Agenoris and Cli­damont, for preserving my Life. My Father, who hath had no News of me since my Ar­rival here, I fear doth imagine, as justly he may, that I am drown'd; and I was fearful to send, least some unlucky accident or other might have brought my Letters into the Hands [Page 131]of Nearchus; who doubtless if he knew where I was, would make a general search for me; that likewise was one reason that made me continue in this disguise: but now since other Misteries far stranger than these are revealed, and since Clidamont hath sworn him­self mine, it were a vain thing for me to have concealed my self longer: Having ended her Relation, they all, after they had returned her those thanks, and given her those praises, her Wit deserved, departed one from another to take their Rests, because Night already be­gan to spread her Sable Curtains over them.

The next morning, when the singing of the Birds had rowsed them up with their pretty Notes, they all agreed, both the Ladies and the Gentlemen, to walk to the Grove of Ve­nus, there to entertain one another in the Lodge, that was on the top of the Labarinth; where they had not long enjoyed themselves, by taking notice of the pleasure of the Pro­spect that was discerned from that place, but Agenoris told the Princess Alcandra, that he knew his mind did not disagree with the rest of the Company; for being desirous to know how she came to escape all those dangers in which she was, and that since the place was pleasant wherein they were (he seconded by the rest of the Company) beseeched her to relate her Adventures, which without much intrearies she did to this effect.