Two new novels ... translated out of the French by P.B.G.

Two new novels ... translated out of the French by P.B.G.

Table of contents

Title page

TO THE Virtuouſly Accompliſhed LADY; My LADY CHARDIN.

[1]

Title page

THE ART Of making LOVE WITHOUT Speaking, Writing, or Enterveiw of the LOVERS.

The Alphabetical Dictionary of the Dumb Language, containing the Name, Signification, Worth, and Interpretation of the Selams.

A

B.

C.

D.

E.

F.

G.

H.

I.

K.

L.

M.

N.

O.

P.

R.

S.

T.

V.

Z.

A Gallant and True HISTORY.

[2]

Title page

TO THE READER.

THE Fatal Beauty OF AGNES de CASTRO.

§

[Page]

Two New NOVELS. I. The ART of making LOVE Without Speaking, Writing or Enterview of the LOVERS. II. The FATAL BEAUTY OF AGNES de CASTRO; Taken out of the HISTORY OF PORTUGAL.

Tranſlated out of the French by P.B.G.

§

Licenſed,

May 19th. 1688.

LONDON, Printed for R. Bently in Ruſſel-ſtreet, in Common-Garden. 1688.

TO THE Virtuouſly Accompliſhed LADY; My LADY CHARDIN.

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[Page]

Madam,

THough Virtue, Honour, and all the other Accompliſhments of the Mind, are not to be reflected on with the least grain of Oſtentation, by thoſe, that the Heavens have endowed with ſuch eminent Quallities: Yet certainly, Madam, thoſe three Illuſtrious Perſons, repreſented in this ſmall piece, which I Humbly offer you, would have thought themſelves particularly obliged to [Page] kind Heaven, if it had produc'd in their time, ſo exact a Pattern o [...] their own Perfections, as you are Madam; in which without the leaſt ſcruple or offence to Modeſty, they might have admired, with as much Juſtice as Delight thoſe Accompliſhments, which did ſo viſibly mark in their own Perſons ſo great a difference from the reſt of the World. Yes Madam, in you they might have lov'd the rare Qualities which were ſo conſonant to thoſe which adorn'd themſelves, and which modeſty would not permit them to applaude in their own Perſons.

Is it not therefore, with great Juſtice, Madam, that I have ſheltered this little, but true piece of Hiſtory, under your ſafe protection. You who has ſo great a ſhare in it; you Madam, [Page] in whom all the glittering Caracters of Perſons, as great in their Perfections of Minds, as they were in their Births, do ſo greatly abound, you, Madam, who has ſo juſt a diſcernment in all that is excellently good, who has ſo nice a Judgment in the Criticiſm's of your own Dialect, and who is ſo great a Judge of our's. Finally, you, Madam, who can beſt Judge of the equity with which I have proceeded, in preſenting to our Engliſh World, the true and lively Caracters of three Perſons ſo remarkable.

But, Madam, that you may not be inticed in your turn into ſome agreable rapture, by too long a contemplation theſe Excellent Perſons Merits, give me leave to draw the Curtain over it, and to divert you with a [Page] pretty piece of Turkiſh gallantry, in which you way behold a certain way of Courtſhip, as pleaſant, as new to us Europeans; I am ſenſible, Madam, it were but reaſonable, I ſhould give you ſome more particular accounts of theſe two Novels, but that having been done already, ſufficiently by the French Author, I ſhall deſiſt therefore from giving you any further diverſion, from your more ſerious reflections, and ſhall only take the Liberty of ſubſcribing my ſelf,

Madam,

Your moſt humble Servant P. Bellon.

§

§

[Page]

THE ART Of making LOVE WITHOUT Speaking, Writing, or Enterview of the LOVERS. A Pleaſant NOVEL.

Tranſlated from the French.

LONDON, LONDON, Printed for R. Bentley in Ruſſel-ſtreet, in Common-Garden. 1688.

THE ART Of making LOVE WITHOUT Speaking, Writing, or Enterveiw of the LOVERS.

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[Page]

SInce I had the Honour, Sir, of entertaining you with a Dumb Language, that the Turks uſe to Expreſs without Speaking, without Writing, and without Seeing one another, the ſtrongeſt of all the Paſſions. You [Page] have been exceedingly preſſing in obliging me to put in Writing that which I had Communicated to you in a familiar Converſation. You extreamly puſle me in it, and I aſſure you that I had beg'd your excuſe, had I but known the difference betwixt a particular Diſcourſe of two Perſons in which all freedom is admitted, and from whence all Affectation is baniſh'd, and a ſtuddied Diſcourſe, which peradventure you will publiſh, and ſo cauſe it to be Criticis'd, in its Phraſe, Method, Words, and in all Things elſe which thoſe that Write are oblig'd to obſerve

I am not Ignorant of the hazard I run, I prepare my ſelf againſt all the troubleſome conſequences, that my temerity will draw on me. You are oblig'd to maintain my Reputation, ſeeing you have firſt engag'd me to ſatisfie your Curioſity, without giving [Page] me the leaſure of reflecting on the difficulty of my enterpriſe. And if Love is counted the Shipwrack of Liberties and Hearts, he may well be that of my Pen alſo. Be it what it will, ſpare me, I pray you, and expoſe not this ſmall Peice to the public, who will not prove ſo kind as you are, and that will not conſider, that my deſign is but to Divert you in a manner of making Love, which is wholly new.

There are divers ways of expreſſing that Paſſion. The firſt School in that, is that of Nature, and all thoſe Leſſons which the Poets have given us on that Subject, would remain very uſeleſs without the Aid and Aſſiſtance of this Univerſal School Miſtriſs.

Though the Love of the Brutes is neceſſary to the Conſervation of their Species, Nature has added to it the ſeaſoning of ſome [Page] preparatory Agreements, to quicken the Senſes and to ſtir up the Natural Heat.

Man, the moſt rational and ſenſual of Animals, finds the pleaſure too ſhort, and endeavours to prolong it, by new Inventions, he ſets to work all ſorts of Means, to expreſs unto the belov'd object, what he makes us to feel, and theſe Troubles which he cauſes in a Lovers Heart; who ſometimes expreſſes himſelf with the Voice, who employs Writing to ſet forth in the moſt moving Manner that Ardor which conſumes him, and who in defect of Voice and Writing endeavours to expreſs by the different Motions of his Face the Sentiments of his Heart.

Theſe are the uſual ways of making Love in a Country of Freedom, where Communication is eaſily obtain'd, and where Perſons can See, Speak, and Write to one another.

[Page]There are Nation that enjoy not thoſe advantages. The greateſt part of the Turks can neither Write, nor Read, neither have they the freedom of Converſing with Women; yet are they not inſenſible. On the contrary it appears that the Eaſtern People are more apt to Love then any other Nation; They wholly Abandon themſelves to it, there they fix their ſovereign good, they raiſe their Paſſion even to a Fury, and I have ſeen ſome in their Rage to Stab their Limbs with D [...]ggers, and then to drop burning Brimſtone in the Wounds.

There is no wonder therefore that People of ſo Hot Tempers, when they want the ordinary means of making known their Paſſion, endeavour to invent extraordinary ones. Flowers, Leaves, Fruits, Aromatick Woods, Gold, Silver, all Colours, Stuffs, and in fine, almoſt all things that are uſeful [Page] in the Commerce of Life, enter in that of Love.

All thoſe things which the Turks call Selam's, Salutes, have their ſignification, and their Natural or Allegorical Valour, much like the Old way of Poetry, ſo that a little packet about the bigneſs of a Thumb does form by the ſeveral things which it contains, a very expreſſive Diſcourſe.

This way of Expreſſing a Paſſion, will appear to you as extravagant as new. Yet it wants not its Agreements alſo, and though it proceeds but from a great want of Liberty, and a defect in the moſt Common of Arts, which is that of Writing and Reading, yet it is ſo Gallant and Ingenious, that thoſe that can both Write and Read, make uſe of it alſo, and believe that thoſe Selams, have more force and make a greater impreſſion on the mind, then the Characters of a Letter.

[Page]To Initiate you with delight into the Commerce of that Dumb Love, and to give you a perfect Knowledg of it. You muſt be introduc'd by the Knowledg of thoſe things, which Compoſe that Language.

I have reduc'd them in an Alphabetical Order, to eaſe the finding out of thoſe Names. I have Compos'd divers Letters with them, to ſhew you the way of their Order, and I have Inſerted them in a Gallant and true Hyſtory, to give them more Agreement, and the more to engage you to the reading of them.

The Alphabetical Dictionary of the Dumb Language, containing the Name, Signification, Worth, and Interpretation of the Selams.

[Page]

A

AIna, Looking-Glaſs.

Kourban, olaim, boyunga, I ſhall become your Slave.

Yeuzum ſureim païngna... I ſhall rub my Face with your Feet.

Al. Red.

Chimglumj aldung, dgianumj al, you have taken my Liberty, take alſo my Soul.

Aſma, a great ſtock of a Vine.

Yerdekj Yuzu baſma, tread not on a Face that is on the ground, [Page] diſpiſe not thoſe that are ſubmitted to you.

Atlas. Sattin. Kimſe yuzumé bakmas. No body caſt their Eyes on me.

Arpa. Barley.

Tchekmé bizj ſarpa, produce no difficulties.

Alma, Apple.

Benden Alma, take me not.

Kuſtaglighé kalina, excuſe my Freedom.

Aktché Aſper, Half-peny.

Ghetehenelum bir hoktché, lets divert our ſelves together.

Altum, ſequin, Peice of Gold.

Albenj ſatun, take me, and fell me, diſpoſe of me as you pleaſe.

Amberboj, Ambretta, Flower.

Ikimus birboj, we are the ſame height.

Astar, courſe Cloth.

Evignuzj ghieuſter, ſhew me where's your Houſe.

Ak, White, living.

Aklum aldung, you have ſeis'd my [Page] mind, I am no longer mine.

Amber, Amber.

Amver, ſatisfie my Paſſion.

Aſma yagraghj, Vine Leaf.

Yuzum yagung topaghj, my Journey is the Earth under your Feet, where I lay my ſelf under your Feet.

Armouth, Pair.

Albenden bir mout, take a buſhel from me, that is, ſatisfie you fully.

B.

Badian hindj, Indian Anis.

Senden gairj doſtum yok Chimdj, I have no other Friend but you.

Bakla, Beane Benj goinunga ſakla; hide me in your Boſom.

Balmounj, Wax.

Echkund Artudj dgenounumj your Love has increas'd my folly, or, I love you even to folly.

Bolgour, beaten Wheat.

[Page] E [...]den Evé Kalghir, you run from Houſe to Houſe, from Fair to Fair.

Bogdaj, Wheat.

Tchekilmez echkung yaj, let not the bow of your Love be drawn, or, exerciſe not over me the power of Love.

B [...]iruldgé, ſmall white Bean.

Bizé ghel bou ghedgé come and ſee us this night.

Koulun olaïm ulundgé, I ſhall be your ſlave till Death.

Badem. Almond.

Bozwktur Madem, my inwards are tainted, I am peirs'd with Sorrow.

Neguzel adew, ah! the Beautiful Man.

Biber, Pepper.

Bizé birbellj L [...]herber, we know aſſuredly.

Buberié, Roſmary.

Ghel berié: Approach near me.

Beyaz, White.

Bir tefter bizé yaz, Write to us a Note.

[Page] Bez, Cloth.

Bez dum, I have wearyed, tired, my ſelf.

C.

Cheker Kamichj, Sugar Cane.

Ʋm rum gunechj, Son of my life.

Cheftalj, Peach.

Yetter etting bizé alj, you have deceiv'd us ſufficiently.

Cheker, Sugar.

Senj Madem techeker, my own Nature draws you, or we both Sympathize.

Chemamé, Pomander, or ſweet Apple.

Sabghideris hamame, we ſhall go to morow to the Bath.

Chiché, Glaſs.

Kaïl olman bou iché, I conſent not to this buſineſs.

Chab, Alum.

Bize bir chafj dgeuab, give us a ſincere anſwer.

D.

[Page]

Dgeuiz, Nut.

Nedurbizé dgeïrigniz, you give us much trouble.

Dug mé, Button.

Bone mungnu kimſeyé Amé, ſubmit your ſelf to no Body.

Darj, Millet.

Benj yaktj echkum narj, the fire of Love hath Burnt me.

Deriaj, Sea green.

Tchekilurmj demjr yaj, Canan Iron bow be drawn?

That is to expreſs a ſtrong reſolution.

Dartchin, Cinamon.

Biz Tchekeris hardgin, we will be at the expence.

Dé mir, Iron.

Beneridum ſen ſemir, I parch, and you fatten.

Dginghiarj, graſs green.

Dgenghimus var, we are in quarrel.

E.

[Page]

Ekmek, Bread.

Erik, Plumb.

Eridik, we are Melted.

Eudagadgj, Aloes Wood.

Bachimumd il adgj, Remedy of my head.

Eſſirgan, Nettle.

Birj biriniz eſſirghen, take compaſſion of one another.

Lazum oldu ſenj eupmek, it is neceſſary that I ſhould kiſs you.

F.

Furfelek.

Yacumé ej ledum dilek, I have made an humble petition to my Miſtris.

Fiſtik, Piſtache.

Sizé Kuſtuk, I am angry with you.

Frag Fourj, Porcelain.

Yolun duchtukche guel berj, viſit us [Page] if occaſion ſerves.

Feſlighen, the Herb Bafil.

Senj ſiriemdé beſleyen, I ſhall raiſe you in my breaſt.

Fonduk, Haiſel Nut.

Felattuk, we are broke off.

G.

Ghemik, Bone.

Nedurgher danuna omik, who has made this Succon at your neck

Gul, Roſe.

Guldurdum bejn you made me laugh, otherwiſe.

Benaglarum ſen gul, I weep and you laugh.

Gulgulj, Roſe Colour.

Sinem bulbulj, Nightingal of my boſom.

Gulpemhé, Peach Bloſom Colour.

Serdam bil ſendé, learn my paſſion, what Torments me.

Ghionluk, Incenſe.

Bizé Ograrſen bir Ghionluk, If you ſhould come to ſee us one day.

H.

[Page]

Hilal, Earpick.

Benj bilé al, Take me along with you.

Aſſir, mat.

Sangna olaim eſſir, I ſhall be your ſlave.

Havaj gall Colour.

Tenha aldun mj odaj, have you choſen a ſecret Chamber out of the way?

Hindiſtan dgeuizi, Indian Nut.

Atchun gnuz, tenugnuzj, Open your breaſt.

Hindj, Nutmeg.

Benaglarum guler kendj, I weep, and ſhe laughs.

Halj, Carpet.

Nerd hhalungj, how do you?

I.

Indgir, Figg.

Benj chimler adgj, does no Body pitty me?

[Page] Iplik, new thred.

Gaïr doſtumlenſick, divert your ſelf with your other Miſtris otherwiſe. Sangna Lazum mj biblick, ſtand you in need of being more clear'd.

Jeſſemin, Jeſſmine.

Sangna ettum jemin, I have Sworn to you, otherwiſe Ahumden eridj Zemin, my ſighs cauſe the Earth to open.

Ibrichim, twiſted Silk.

Allaha kaldj ichim, I have laid my buſineſs on God.

Judgj, Pearl.

Guzellerum, ſenſen ghendgj, you are a treaſure of Youth and Beauty.

Ikj kardak kanj, a kind of Coral.

Hageba, ne ichler numidgia dgiani; By your leave, what does the Soul of my Soul.

Ilimon, Lemon.

Ilumumus var, we are inform'd,

Igné, Point.

Ghieuz ſundé olaim dugmé, I will [Page] cleave to your boſom, as a button to your Veſt.

K.

Kachek, Spoon.

Ayak Larumus dolachek, let's twiſt our Leggs together.

Kiretch, Lime.

Doſtum ichj iſſe, birinden var ghetch. If you have two Miſtriſſes, you muſt abandon one.

Kaboukſis fonduk, a nut kernel.

Biz ſizé omduk, you are all my hope.

Klaboudon, Gold-twiſted on Silk.

Iki yuzlu, Traitor, double-fac'd Man.

Krmizj, Crimſon Red.

Bangna miej ſerzen nazj, It is not with me that you muſt act the Proud one.

Keſtané, Cheſnut.

Keſſelidik, we have ſeparated our ſelves.

Echkunden oldum meſtané, I am [Page] drunk and troubled with love.

Kalem, writing Pen.

Benum itchun, tchekmé elem, ſuffer nothing for love of me.

Khare, Taby.

Yureghim yare, my Heart is to what I love.

Kieten, Flax.

Ʋmrume yeten, ſufficient during life.

Kouroum, ſout.

Nege guler yarum, what makes my Miſtris to laugh?

Kilim, Woolen Carpet.

Yeter ettim bize Zouloum, you have ſufficiently uſed me cruelly.

Kibritj, Brimſtone Colour.

Yanum den kon oitj, drive that Dog from near you.

Khiar, Cow-comber.

Korkarum unglar doyar, I fear it might be perceiv'd.

Kau, a Match.

Hhalkj bachingden ſaw, ſeparate your ſelf from ſo much People.

Khourma, Date.

[Page] Muradigna irma, execute not your deſign.

Katife, Velvet.

Yeter ettin latiffe, you have jeſted long enough.

Kiomour, Coal.

Ben úlurem, ſize eumur, I am willing to dye, ſo you live.

Kacoule, Indian Anis.

Ouyarmiſen ma koule, do you conſent to what is juſt?

Kiaghit, Paper.

Hholkj bachinden daghit, ſend the People from you.

Kalaj, Pewter.

Senj aldatmak kolaj, you permit your ſelf to be eaſily deceiv'd.

Kenevis, Canvas.

Yaren gherge bile iz. To morrow we will paſs the night together.

Korenfil, Clove.

Karorum yok, you have no Conſtancy.

Kaiſsj. Apricock.

Boulamadum ſenden eiſsj, I find nothing better then you.

[Page] Kiraz, Cherry.

Bize ver bir raz, give your ſelf a little.

Kebe, thick covering of Horſe hair.

Sout Chume teube, I repent me of my Fault.

L.

Laden, Ladanum.

Boulaſen Merladen, God return it you.

Lale, Tulip.

Kaddumj dunderdum halile, You have winded my Body as an Ear-pick. That is to ſay, I have done all you pleas'd.

Lahana, Cabage.

Neme bouldum behane, what pretence is that?

Sule, Pipe Nut.

Tchatladum gule gule, I have burſt my ſelf with Laughing.

M.

[Page]

Makas, Ciſers.

Benj kapigne as, hang me at your door.

Miſſir bogdaj, Buck Wheat.

Sen ulurſen birdahj, If you dye, there are others.

Menevich, Crimſon Violet.

Yazuktur bize bou itch, there's conſcience in uſing us thus.

Merdgmek, lentile,

Haua oldu bou dge emek, all my ſervices are loſt.

Menekche, Violet.

Albenj okche. Take me, and careſs me.

Madanos. Parſley.

Tenhamj Euignuz, is your Houſe, out of the Way?

Merdgian, Coral.

Malum ſenum durhardgin; diſpoſe of my means.

Mechin, Turky Leather.

Yoktur echim, you have not your like.

[Page] Mercin, Mirtle.

Allag ſeni bangna verſin, God give you to me.

Mavj, Blew.

Mail oldum, I am fallen in love.

Mazj. Gall-nut.

Nedur bize nazj. whence comes this hautineſs?

Muskuroumj, Wall-flower.

Tchek owtch kourumj, I am yours. Mor, Violet Colour.

Senj ſevelu oldum khior, your Soul has made me become blind,

N.

Nar. Pomgranate.

Yureghim yamar. My heart burns.

Nohoud. Pitch.

Derdumden oldum bejhhod. My pain takes away my ſenſes.

Nane, Mint.

Sevichelum dgiane, let's love with all our hearts.

Nerkez. Marry-gold-flower.

Koum olaim herkez. I'le be your ſlave on all occaſions.

[Page] Nebat cheker, Sugar-candy.

Neubet ignize kail oldum, I yeild, that you have your turn.

O.

Orondghek, Spider.

Gurmedum yuzunt doinge, I cannot be ſatiated with ſeeing you.

Ouvez.

Yanuma ghel birez▪ draw near me.

P.

Pirindge. Rice.

Eteme bize ele gulindge, expoſe me not to laughtuer.

Pambouk. Cotton.

Ghel bize Konouk. Come, and lye at our Houſe.

Para, a ſmall peice of Silver.

Ghel Ardun Ara, come and feel me out.

R.

[Page]

Rezene: Fenel.

Rutek gherek ghezene, Inconſtancy muſt be puniſh'd

Ratfic tachj, Antimony Mineral.

Akar, ghieuzumum yachj, my Eyes melt into Tears.

S.

Sarj. Yellow.

Sarilatum, let us embrace.

Satche. Hairs.

Batchimetadge. Crown of my head.

Santan. Straw.

Allakton boulaman, God forgive thee.

Boulachalum bir Zaman, let us meet ſome where.

Sunghier. Spunge.

Etme ſeuſum inkiar, keep your word.

Sarrmuffak, Garlick.

Birghedge ſarilſak, we muſt paſs the night together

[Page] Saboun, Sope.

Ettinbene ſaboun. You make me Sick.

Supurgbe, a Broom.

Benj bir yol eſſirghe. Once take pity of me.

Sidgim. Packthread.

Nedur ſoutchum, what is my fault?

Si [...]ma, Gold-wyer.

Yuzungnu bende najrma. Turn not your face away from me, abandon me not.

Sandal, Tafety.

Yeter oldu bize bouſal; That cheat is ſufficient.

Surſam, Grain of—

Sangna bir ſeus deſſem, If I told you a word.

Sumboul, a jacinth.

Khoudadan boul, God reward you.

Servj, Cyprus-tree.

Zeter ettin dge [...]rj. You have caus'd us trouble enough.

Sarmachik, Joy.

Yum hej boulachik. Retire, draggletail.

[Page] Sakiz. Maſtick.

Ghel bize kiz. Draw near me; you fair Maid.

T.

Toprak. Earth.

Eskj ſeudugungj brak, leave your ancient Love.

Kiaadge bize bak, behold us ſometimes.

Tire, twiſted thread.

Kalbime ghire. Enter into my Heart.

Tchira, Oyly-wood.

Echking ile oldum khira. Your love has made me as lean as a rake, or, as a Skeelton.

Timin A peice of five Pence.

Seudugungna aile yemim: Oath of fidelity to his Miſtriſs.

Boulamodum ſiz den yemin: You have no word.

Frnak, a Finger-nail.

Kazak. Ruſtick, clowniſh, inhuman.

[Page] Tulbend. Cambreſine.

Echkum getchtj bize bend. Love has bound us together.

Troup, Radiſh.

Evigniz yolt ſarp, It is difficult to get into your Houſe.

Ychola, Cloath.

Khalumuze birbacha, conſider the condition I am in.

Tach, Stone.

Koialum bir yaſtiga bach, let us reſt our head on the ſame pillow.

Tel. Golden-thread.

Bizeghel, come to us.

Touroddte. Orange.

Toutzun ſenj koulendge, may all evils fall on thee.

Taxta, Board, or Plank.

Dourmaf-ſon akta, you are not true to your word.

Tchimchir, Box-wood.

Aklum bachina devjchir, recollect your mind.

Tougla, Confederacy.

Yarem bize Ogra. Come to ſee us to morrow.

[Page] Tuhin Tobaco.

Kalbimus bitum, my heart is whole.

V.

Ʋnnap, a Jujube.

Bangno yap, do of me what you pleaſe.

Ʋzum, a Reaſon▪

Ichj ghieulum. Both my Eyes.

Ʋſtupj, Toe, or Flax.

Yarum bangna kuſtumj, my Miſtris is angry with me.

Ouve.—

Yanuma ghel bir ez. Come a little on my ſide.

Ʋſkulen ustupj, Toe and Flax mixt together.

Yanun lakaj ben keſtjmj. Has my Miſtris broke off with me?

Z.

Zambak. Lily.

Ben upein, ſenbak, I'lkiſs, while you'l be looking.

[Page] Zengebil, Ginger.

Senj ſeverem ſendebil. Know that I love you.

Zoitun, an Olive.

Ʋgnum dengheth ſun mejtun. May thy Corpſe paſs before me.

A Gallant and True HISTORY.

[Page]

IT is the Cuſtom amongſt the Turks, to paſs the three Feſtival Days of the Bayram, in public rejoycings. Thoſe Sultaneſſes that have their particular Palaces in the City of Conſtantinople and near unto it, go to the Seraglio to Viſit the Sultaneſſes, which at other times are not ſeen. There they paſs theſe three days, in Sports, Feaſts and Dances.

Thoſe amongſt the Slaves, that are not Employ'd in Singing or Dancing, which makes the Chief Divertiſement of the Princes, retire themſelves in ſome Appartment, where they Sport amongſt themſelves.

[Page]One day that Bournaz Atidgé, the Sultaneſs, Siſter to Sultan Morat, was at the Seraglio with Tarhain Sultaneſs Validé, Mother to the Grand Segnior now Reigning. Thoſe two Sultaneſſes who were very good Friends, being deſirous to entertain themſelves in Private, diſmiſs'd their Slaves.

Some of them very good friends, ſeparated themſelves from the reſt, that they might with more freedom entertain one another. They turn'd their Converſation on the Love of Gulbeas white roſe. She was the principal Slave of the Sultaneſs Validé; That Maid, at firſt made ſome reſiſtance, either through Modeſty, or to ſpare her ſelf the Sorrow of the remembrance of a Beloved Lover. Yet ſhe yeilded at laſt to her Companions Importunities.

She told them that ſhe had paſs'd divers years without knowing what was Love, though ſhe daily [Page] heard her Companions Diſcourſe of that Paſſion; which produced ſuch ſtrange Effects in thoſe Maids mind, that ſhe could perceive them to paſs in an inſtant, from joy to ſadneſs, and from Love to their Jealouſy, and Deſire, and that Faces would change as frequently as their Hearts were agitated with different Paſſions: That ſo Woful a Condition had caus'd her to fear ſuch like Engagements, and that ſhe had ſhun'd them as much as ſhe could: But at laſt, ſaid ſhe, Love anger'd at my reſiſtance, forc'd me to yeild to his Power, and inſpired in me ſome Feelings of Tenderneſs for a Young Turk, Neighbour to a Jew, with whom I Boarded, to Learn the Exerciſes of Reading, Writing, Singing, Playing on Divers Inſtruments, and Dancing, in Order to be Admitted into the Seraglio.

This Turk named Iſſouf, Son to Mahomet Baſſa, was both Neighbour [Page] and good Friend to the Jew, and he did frequently come to his Houſe, to hear me Sing. He conceiv'd ſo ſtrong a Paſſion for me, that he paſs'd both Days and Nights at his Window, or in his Garden to ſee me: And one day, he ventur'd to ſpake to me of his Love, but his Diſcourſes made ſo ſmall Impreſſion on my mind, that I had not at that time the leaſt Sentiment of Tenderneſs for him.

Sometime after that Perſon who had put me to the Jew, finding me ſufficiently Inſtructed, Preſented me to the Sultaneſs my Miſtriſs. Abſence, which is a great Remedy againſt Love, inſtead of alaying Iſſoufs Paſſion, ſerv'd but to increaſe it, while I liv'd, without the leaſt diſturbance in the Seraglio, where Love had not yet diſturb'd my Reſt.

He did endeavour by all ſorts of means to learn ſome News of [Page] the Perſon he lov'd; all his endeavours were fruitleſs, The Gates of the Womens Apartment are inacceſſible places. Thoſe Cerberuſes that keep them, enraged and deſperate to find themſelves depriv'd of that which might render them agreeable to ſo many Beauties which they have under their Conduct, become Jealous, and have more Eyes then Argus to examine all their Actions.

So many difficulties had a moſt repuls'd Iſſouf, who had conſumated three years in fruitleſs Attempts. He did Abandon himſelf to Grief and complaining, when one of his Friends who ſhar'd in his Sorrow, inform'd him that a Jewiſh Woman Merchant, named Boullaſter, had free Acceſs in the Seraglio, where ſhe ſold a great many J [...]wels to the Sultaneſſes.

Iſſouf who had Wit, and Means, made good uſe of his Friends Advice, and built great Hopes on it, being [Page] perſwaded that Money overcomes all difficulties, and that Liberality moves the moſt obdurate Hearts. He reſolv'd to confide his Love to this Jewiſh Woman, and to engage her in his Concerns.

The Enterpriſe was not very difficult, conſiderable Preſents, and Promiſes of Reiterating them upon a favourable Succeſs, did engage the Jewiſh Woman to ſerve Iſſouf in his Amours.

He put into her hands a Pair of Pendants of Emeralds cut in the ſhape of Pairs, a pair of Diamond Bracelets, and the Buckles of a Girdle ſet with Rubies, in Enamel'd Gold. He Accompanyed this Preſent with a Billet, and a Seliman, put up in a Watch Caſe of Enamel'd Gold, ſet with Diamonds. He Conjur'd his Meſſenger to uſe all her Induſtry to perſwade and convince me of the exceſs of his Love, and to repreſent to me the Diſorders which [Page] that Paſſion had made in his Heart, the deplorable Condition in which it had reduc'd him, that I had been almoſt three years in the Seraglio, and could not all that while learn any News of me, that he was ready to Dye if all that he had ſuffer'd for me was not capable to molifie me, and to inſpire ſome kindneſs for him in my Breaſt.

The Jewiſh Woman, who was very Dextrous and Prudent, coming to the Seraglio as ſhe us'd to do, took her time when the Sultaneſs was not viſible, and ſeeking of an opportunity of ſpeaking to me conveniently, requeſted that I ſhould give her leave to reſt her ſelf a while in my Apartment, which I could not in Civility refuſe her, I being ſhe which this Jewiſh Merchant beſt knew, by reaſon of my Place of Treaſurer to the Sultaneſs, to which I had been advanc'd, in a ſhort time, [Page] through the Sultaneſſes ſingular Bounty.

Women are naturally Curious, I inform'd my ſelf of the quality of her Jewels. She heightned their Beauties and Perfections, pulling out of her Boſom a box in which thoſe things were put up, ſhe ſhew'd them me.

The fires and ſparklings of thoſe precious Stones, on which I moſt earneſtly gaz'd, with an envious Eye, invited me to put them on me for a while.

The Jewiſh Woman, who perceiv'd that I was coming to the Lure, and that this dreſs pleas'd me, did invite me with her praiſes to frequently Conſult a ſmall Looking-glaſs which I had found by chance, which made me obſerve an extraordinary redneſs on my Face, caus'd by a Vexation, that Fortune had not favour'd me, with ſuch a like Treaſure.

[Page] Boulluſter who eaſily perceiv'd what paſs'd in my Heart, knowing that every moment was precious, thought it high time to Play her Part, and to diſcover to me Iſſoufs Paſſion in giving me his Letter and Preſent.

Charming Gulbeas, ſaid ſhe, I muſt confeſs to you how much I am ſurpris'd that the Sultan is not yet taken with your Beauty, and with ſo many Graces which I obſerve in your Face; there is nothing in you but what is capable to Produce Love, and if that Emperor had once ſeen you in this Dreſs, the Sultaneſs would conceive ſome Jealouſie thereon, and I eaſily believe what has been told me of the Paſſion of a Young Turk whoſe Name is Iſſouf.

Though I had not heard him mention'd ſince I had been Admitted into the Seraglio, no more then of the Jew with whom I had [Page] liv'd, that Name made me change Colour, for that young Man's Paſſion was not unknown to me, ſeeing he had entertain'd me with it before. I did all I could to diſguiſe my Surpriſal, and to Conceal the Motions of my Soul, but that Poiſon that had thrown it ſelf there and ſo long fomented, without perceiving it, diſcover'd it ſelf againſt my will by a Sigh drawn from the bottom of my Heart, which I could not for my Life retain.

Boullaſter made ſo good uſe of the diſorder in which ſhe perceiv'd me to be, and made me ſo lively a draft of Iſſoufs Paſſion, and Merit, that laying aſide her indifferency in that buſineſs, ſhe made an end of engaging me, in preſenting me with the Box of Diamonds. I thought at firſt that it had been a Watch: My Curioſity invited me to open it, but in lieu of a Watch Movement I found in it a Billet. [Page] Honour made me immediately ſhut it up again, and return it to the Woman. I Counterfeited the Angry Body, yet would I gladly have been inform'd of the Contents of that Billet, not doubting but that it was Iſſouf's, Declaration of Love, who began to pleaſe me. The Jewiſh Woman who had too much of Experience not to diſcern my feigning, did Preſs me to take the Box, I did it proteſting it was meerly in Complaiſance, and to free me from her Importunities.

I pulling out the Billet found under it a little Packet which inclos'd a Selam, but becauſe I can Read well, I inſtantly open'd the Billet, which was expreſs'd in theſe Terms.

To See and to Love you Divine Gulbeas have been to me the ſame thing. The Gods who have made you ſo Fair, ought to have made you [Page]more ſenſible alſo, or not have poſſeſs'd we with ſo much Love, and ſo little of hopes. My Paſſion is as Ancient as the knowledge which I have had of your Merit, and Time which Conſumes all things has ſerv'd but to increaſe it. There are paſs'd divers years ſince I am no more my ſelf, and that I live but for you. I paſs both days and nights in that part of the Garden, where I did hear you Sing, and Play on your Inſtruments, and from whence I did ſometimes ſpake to you. That place once the Confident of my Delights, is now the ſame of my Sorrow, and will ſoon be that of my Death, if you cauſe not my Deſtiny to alter, not being any longer capable of Life without ſeeing you. I am not Ignorant of the difficulty of the Attempt; but moſt Incomparable Beauty, if you will afford me but a little pitty, who Languiſhes for you, and the happineſs of caſting my ſelf down at your Feet, leave all the reſt to Prudent [Page] Boullaſters Cares, ſhe will know how to manage my Bliſs and your Reputation.

The Reading of this Billet gave me the Curioſity of unfolding the Selam. It was Compos'd of a grain of Grape, a little Race of Ginger, a ſmall piece of Cole, and Alum, lapp'd up in white and yellow Silk, which ſignified as follows.

I wiſh, My Eyes, that you were perfectly inform'd of that Love which I feel for you. It deprives me of my ſelf, and if you take not pitty of the Condition I am in, I ſhall Dye while you will enjoy an happy Life: Honour me with an Anſwer, and put an end to my ſufferings.

Though I feign'd not to be well pleas'd at this Declaration which I thought ſomething too free, my Heart was very well ſatisfied with [Page] Iſſoufs Conſtancy. It ſpoke to me in his hehalf, and there needed not any great effects to perſwade me of his Love, and to inſpire in me ſome tenderneſs towards him.

The Jewiſh Woman, who ſtudied my Countenance, perceiving the Effects of the Letter, and of the Selam, did preſently offer me the Jewels with which I was already adorn'd. My reaſon, which was not yet wholly prepoſſeſs'd, made me to refuſe them, and to Repreſent to her the wrong which it might do to my Reputation, ſhould the Sultaneſs diſcover it, and that I could not accept of a preſent that would be the cauſe of my Ruine. At the ſame time I undid thoſe Jewels which I return'd her with the Box, retaining nothing but the Letter and the Selam.

Boullaſter who a long Practice had render'd expert, was of Opinion that ſometimes a too great [Page] earneſtneſs, does impede the ſucceſs which is moſt deſir'd, did endeavour to convince me by a means to which I could make no reſiſtance.

She told me that my Beauty being Aſſiſted with ſo powerful an Addition, I might pleaſe the Grand Segnior, and peradventure be made Sultaneſs. The Ambition of Reigning, at leaſt in an Emperors Heart, carried it above my Reaſon, and made me conſent to receive the Preſent.

She would gladly have had me as ready to have receiv'd Iſſouf in my Appartment: My Heart did not reject the propoſition, had not my reaſon render'd me inexorable. Finally after long inſtances and reiterated intreaties, I conſented to ſee him in the Garden.

Boullaſter could have wiſh'd (to acquit her ſelf handſomly of her Commiſſion) that I had given her [Page] an Anſwer; Honour and Reaſon oppos'd it, but Love did engage me to let him know by a Selam, that his Paſſion was not unpleaſing to me, it was lapp'd up in an Handkercheif of Silk Embroider'd with Gold, wrought with my own Hand, after which the Woman retir'd, pretending before my Companions, who had ſurpris'd us in the Converſation, that ſhe left thoſe Jewels with me, that I might ſhew them to the Sultaneſs.

Iſſouf impatient to learn the ſucceſs of his enterpriſe expected his Agents return, who made him an exact Relation of all that had paſs'd, and gave him that Handkercheif which I had ſent him.

The Joy which he reſented at the receit of this aſſurance of the acceptance of his Paſſion, did Tranſport him in ſuch manner, that without examining what it contain'd, he kiſs'd it a thouſand times, and water'd it with his [Page] Tears, with the moſt tender Expreſſions, that Love could inſpire.

Boullaſter who would not interrupt him during the height of his Tranſport, when he was come to himſelf again a little, made him to take Notice of the Selam. It was Iſabella Silk, a Sprig of Jeſſemy, a little bit of Spunge, ſome Time, and ſome Mirtle.

I cannot expreſs to you the exceſs of the Joy which Iſſouf conceiv'd at it, it was ſo great that he was ſtruck Speechleſs, and that Rapture had laſted longer, if Boullaster, as Curious, as he was Contented, had not preſs'd him to give her the Expoſition of it. I accept your Vows, ſaid the Selam, be perſwaded of my Constancy, provided you be ſo I pray Heaven to beſtow you on me, and that our Souls may be inſeparably joyn'd together.

Is it poſſible moſt Amiable Gulbeas, ſaid Iſſouf, that my Paſſion, [Page] is agreeable to, you is it not to deecive me, and to Laugh at my Grief, that thus you ſeek to engage me further, and kiſſing the Handkercheif, he ſaid, dear Pledge of the fidelity of ſhe who I adore, will you be it alſo of the ſincerity of her Heart. Then Addreſſing himſelf to the Selam, and you Dumb Mouth, will you aſſure me the duration of her new Born Love?

He had ſaid more; but all Moments were Precious to prepare himſelf for this Enterview.

The difficulty of this enterpriſe did caſt him in a new Sorrow, and plung'd him in a Melancholy more profound then the former. He was in a diſpair of finding in the Seraglio, a Friend ſo faithful as to be truſted with his Amours, and his Impatiency did increaſe, ſtill as he grew nearer the ſo deſired time.

[Page]After he had much Tormented himſelf on the means of bringing about his deſign, he remembred that there was a Maſter Gardner nam'd, Ouſta Mehemet, who was greatly oblig'd to his Father, and that that conſideration, might engage him to do him Service, he reſolv'd to find him out.

Ouſta Mehemet, who had preſerv'd for Iſſouf a natural Inclination, receiv'd him with Demonſtrations of a perfect Friendſhip, and great proteſtations of acknowledgments of the good Offices which he had receiv'd from the Baſſa, his Father.

Though Iſſouf was ſatisfied of Mehemets fidelity, and that he doubted not but that though he ſhould not grant him the favour which he was about to ask of him, that he would however keep his ſecret, he however exacted from him an Oath, on the Head of the Prophet, never to reveal that which [Page] he would intruſt him with, which he eaſily obtain'd from Mehemet.

Iſſouf diſcovered his Paſſion to his Friend in ſuch ſenſible Terms, and ſo preſſing, that though he had not had any mind to ſerve him, it was no longer in his power to refuſe him. I Love, moſt faithful Mehemet, but what ſerves my Love, when that I cannot ſpake to the Object of my Vows. I Love a Fair One, Priſoner in this Place, the inward part of the Seraglio which is Guardian of this Treaſure, is almoſt Penetrable, or at leaſt the Acceſs is ſo difficult, that it cannot be attempted without a great hazard; Yet that is not the thing which detains Me, my Paſſion which is beyond all limits would make me to undertake all things, if that ſhe whom I Love would conſent to it. I have only obtain'd to ſee her from a little Garden of Flowers which is juſt under the Sultaneſſe's Appartment. You,[Page]My Dear Mehemet, muſt facilitate the entry of it to me, on you depends the ſucceſs of this Enterpriſe; I have Built on your Friendſhip; and if ever you have lov'd, you will judge of the Importancy of the Service, and the greatneſs of the Obligation, that I ſhall be indebted to you for it.

That Declaration had made too great an Impreſſion on this Old Mans Mind, the remembrance of thoſe Diſorders which a like Paſſion had formerly Caus'd in his Breaſt, did make him condeſcend with eaſe to Iſſoufs requeſt, without conſidering the danger unto which he expos'd himſelf, ſhould the intreague be diſcover'd. He promiſed to introduce him under a Gardiners habit, and that he had no more to do, but to obſerve my appointed time.

Iſſouf did preſently diſpatch Boullaſter to the Seraglio, he gave her no Letter, his Joy was too [Page] great to permit him to write. He only gave her a ſmall Selam, compos'd of a grain of Pomegranate a little piece of Ʋnctious Wood, lapp'd in white Silk, a Gray-pea, a little piece of Suggar Cane, and the kernel of an Hazel Nut, all which did ſpake thus.

The fire which your love has kindled in my Hearty, has reduc'd me to ſuch a Condition, that if you take not pitty of me and that if like the Sun, you enlighten not my mind, I ſhall ſoon looſe that with my life.

Though I was highly poſſeſs'd with Love, I had ſtill ſome reaſon left me, I wa [...] kept in with fear, I dreaded leaſt the intreague ſhould be diſcover'd, and that the Sultaneſs ſhould cauſe me to be ſeverely Puniſh'd: Thus I would, yet would not, yet at laſt I was forc'd to yeild to the Syrenes Enchantments. I promiſs'd her that the next day at nine I would render my ſelf in alow room which [Page] anſwer'd on the Garden, and which was parted from it but by a Lattice Window, of which I ſhould open a ſmall wicket, which would be the ſign of my coming, that that was the moſt favourable time, that the Sultaneſs did uſually reſt, and her Women alſo, after breakfaſts; and that all the Eunuchs were on the outſide of the Gate, to prevent all noiſe.

Iſſouf had like to have dyed, at the receit of this news, which did cauſe him ſome reſtleſſneſs, through the apprehenſions that his ill Fortune might make him miſcarry in this attempt. He paſs'd the whole night with terrible apprehenſions, mixt of fear and hope.

He render'd himſelf at the Seraglio, at the appointed hour. Mehemet caus'd him to change his rich habit for a Gardiners dreſs, made of a courſe red Serge, with a cap a Foot long, of the ſame [Page] Stuff. He put a Spade in his hand, and conducted him to the Garden ordering him to dig a border juſt under the Windows of that Appartment; at every ſtroke the new Gardner would lift up his Eyes, to obſerve whither the wicket did open; but unluckily, the Sultaneſs being fallen aſleep a little latter then uſually, the Gardner had leaſure to dig almoſt all the border, before I could come to the Rendevouz.

He was very impatient, as I was inform'd, he would ſome time hear your great flyes, which ſeeking for paſſage would ſtrike againſt the Lattice, which made him fancy that I was looking and laughing at his ſlavery.

When I came near the Window, and that through the Lattice, I perceiv'd Iſſouf with the Spade in his hand, I no longer doubted of the ſtrength of his love, and though it was a little uneaſy to [Page] me to ſee a Perſon of his Quality digging of the ground, to enjoy one moment the ſatisfaction of ſeeing me, it gave me a ſecret joy, and without reflecting on what my abſence might make him to ſuffer, I took a great delight in conſidering of him without ſhewing my ſelf. But he having work'd a conſiderable time, and that ſo harſh an exerciſe to ſo tender a Body, did oblige him, to reſt often on his Spade, and to caſt up his Eyes from time to time on the place where I was to appear, I open'd the wicket, and ſaw Iſſoufs Pain to redouble, the Spade fell out of his hands, he remain'd without motion, like a ſtatue, but by good Fortune he was not perceiv'd, Mehemet who had forſeen the conſequences of this firſt ſight, had ſet the Gardners at ſome diſtance, who were to have work'd in the ſame place.

There is no greater trouble, [Page] then to be in preſence of that one loves, and not in power to declare ones grief. That which Iſſouf did ſuffer by being depriv'd of ſpeaking to me becauſe of the nearneſs of the Sultaneſs's appartment, was as troubleſom to me as to himſelf, and notwithſtanding all the reſervedneſs which I pretended to, I ſuffered no leſs then he did. By good Fortune the Dumb Language, which is very much us'd in this Court, and that we perfectly underſtood, did ſo well ſupply the defects of our Voices, that we ſeparated well ſatisfied with one another. The Eyes, the motions of the face, the ſigns of the Fingers, and the geſtures of the Body, did all ſpeak more then the moſt fluent tongue could have utter'd, which is frequently Dumb in ſuch occaſions, and ſays nothing at all for having too much to ſay. We did ſo pleaſe our ſelves in this converſation, that it [Page] had continu'd longer, if I had not heard ſome treading in the Sultaneſs's appartment, which oblig'd me to make ſigns to Iſſouf to retire; and ſo I ſhut the wicket.

During all our intreagues, Boullaſter, who was now the confident of our mutual amours, made diverſe Journeys to the Seraglio. I took no leſs delight at the news of my lovely Iſſouf, then he did of his dear Gulbeas. He was very rich, and did promiſe me to uſe all his Endeavours, and to employ all his Friends, to get me out of the Seraglio, and to marry me. This had not doubtleſs deceiv'd my hopes, if a precipitated Death caus'd by the Plague had not depriv'd me of my only Joy.

Sobbs and ſighs, mix'd with Tears, interrupted Gulbea's relation, and the ſtrength of her grief having diſenabled her from finiſhing, ſhe intreated one of her Companions, to whom ſhe [Page] had diſcovered her ſecret, to go on with the recital of a Death, which had coſt her ſo many Tears. Patma, ſo was that good Friend call'd, continu'd G [...]lbea's diſcourſe. The Jewiſh Woman, did come twice or thrice a week to the Seraglio, though ſhe ſould but few things there; but ſhe was ſufficiently recompens'd by thoſe lovers, whoſe preſents did in a ſhort time make her very rich.

Their Paſſions grew beyond all limits, Iſſouf, who was impatient at his Incomparable Miſtriſs's abſence, would attempt a ſecond enterview, in which he might freely, with a loud Voice and not by Dumb ſigns expreſs the exceſs of his love. He communicated his deſign to his confident, reiterating large promiſes if ſhe had good ſucceſs. She being won by the gains, did engage to omit nothing that might tend to his ſatisfaction.

[Page]She came to the Seraglio, gave Gulbeas a Selam put up in an Agath veſſel. It is to be confeſs'd ſaid Patmas, that if love ſharpens Wit, it borders on folly alſo, Iſſouf would engage his Miſtris with a rich preſent. This Veſſel was Garniſh'd with circles of Gold ſtudded with Diamonds, and he endeavour'd to convince her of her paſſion, by a Selam, compos'd of his Hairs, of Roſe colour Silk, of Aloes Wood, of Antimony, of Nutmeg, a Sprig of Broom, a grain of Grape, a ſmall peice of Cloth, and of Cole, all which put together did ſay.

Precious Crown of all my wiſhes, Nightingal whoſe Voice is only capable to Charm the ſorrow of my Soul, true remedy of the Evils which I endure, conſider the Tears which proceed from my Eyes, while that perhaps you are Laughing at my grief take pity on me, and behold the condition in which you have brought[Page]me. I am ready to dye, if you honour me not with your writing, and if you give me not a poſitive Anſwer.

This Selam, and the relation which Boullaſter made to Gulbeas, of the miſerable condition that Iſſouf was in, whom ſhe repreſented to her, languiſhing, and dying, did ſo move her, being put on with paſſion and love, that ſhe conſented to a ſecond enterview, the p [...]ce and manner, only, did trouble her, and ſhe caus'd him ſome by a little Selam, of a Gold Wyer, of a grain of Grape, of a grain of Millet, of a bit of white thred, and of a grain of Wheat, all which ſaid. Come my Eyes I am ſenſible of your griefs, my Heart is yours, be perſwaded of my Constancy. Gulbeas would not conſent to Iſſouf's diſguiſe for his admittance into an appartment which was joyning that of the Sultaneſs; It was [Page] a ſlippery ſtep, no leſs then honour and life were at ſtake. All thoſe conſiderations were powerful enough to brake off that deſign, if love who was the ſtrongeſt had not overpois'd them. Gulbeas let her ſelf be won by Boullaſter's perſwaſion, and gave her leave to bring Iſſouf diſguis'd like a Maiden.

Three days were employ'd in getting things ready, the rather becauſe that too frequent viſits might have been ſuſpected. They were ſo many Ages to the Amorous Iſſouf, for whom neat and proper Cloths were getting ready that his dreſs anſwering to the Beauty of his Face, where no Hair had yet appear'd the Guards might be with more eaſe impos'd upon.

The 4th. day Boullaſter, and her pretended Daughter whom we will call Gevaher, which in the Turkiſh Language ſignifies, Precious-Stone, came to the [Page] Seraglio. This She-Merchant who was well known, having told that who accompany'd her was her Daughter, deceiv'd the Black Eunuchs, who let them both enter.

Here Patma made a pauſe, and beginning again with a languiſhing accent, ſhe ſaid, Iſſouf, what doſt thou doe? you come to ſee Gulbeas▪ you ſeek in her Eyes for a remedy to your Evils, you are going to find the end of them but after a very extraordinary manner, your preſence ſhall cure her of the Plague which overcomes her, and by a ſtrange counter-blow, you will take in, in approaching her, a Poyſon, that ſhall kill you.

Of truth, continued ſhe, The Jewiſh Woman did introduce the fair Gevaher, into the dying Gulbea's Chamber. Judge of the trouble that Iſſouf found himſelf in, and if the ſurpriſal of ſuch an unexpected accident were not capable of breaking all [Page] the meaſures of this diſguiſe.

There little wanted but that he diſcover'd himſelf, but Gulbeas who ſtill preſerv'd a ſound Judgment with the rigour of her diſeaſe, which was at the third day, did intreat her companions, to leave her one moment alone with this Jewiſh Woman, to ſettle ſome accounts which they had together.

When that Iſſouf found himſelf alone near Gulbeas, he gave full ſcope to his grief, and forgeting the place he was in, he tore of his vail, and cleav'd to the Beds Head of the ſick Perſon, who he bathed with his Tears not being able to ſpeak one word. Gulbeas on her ſide did receive ſuch preſſing ſtrokes of love, with the anguiſh of her diſeaſe, that it cauſing a great revolution in her Body, a Chriſis was produc'd, which ſaved her life, and gave Iſſouf his death who could not be perſwaded to quit the Boulſter, where he took in [Page] the ſteam of a Malignant ſweat, which peirc'd him to the very Heart, and caus'd him to fall in a fainting Fit.

Boullaster ſtrangly confus'd at the ſwooning of her pretended Daughter, and much more at the conſequences that the unraveling of this intreague might produce in caſe that the illneſs increaſing, ſhe had been oblig'd to be put into a bed, call'd me to aſſiſt her.

When I came in, the feigned Gevaher began to breath and to ſigh, turning her Eyes towards Gulbeas, whoſe name ſhe ſpoke with ſuch a tender and amourous accent, that I wonder how I perceiv'd it not, I reflected not on it, and did attribute it to an ancient acquaintance, that which was a pure effect of love.

It paſs'd not ſo with Boullaſter, ſhe was ſo ſurpris'd that all her ſenſes fled from her, and her face growing pale ſhe fell in a ſwoon, ſo that [Page] I was left alone very buſy, and concern'd. I brought the Daughter near to Gulbeas's Bed, and run to the Mother who was not long fainted, when both were recover'd of their ſwoon, I went to prepare ſomething for them to take.

The Amorous Iſſouf made uſe of that moment to ſay ſome few things to his Miſtriſs, which he pronounc'd with a Languiſhing Voice. Death, which perſues me, ſaid he, is a leſs trouble to me, adorable Gulbeas, then the pain which I feel for what you endure. I ſhould run to it with Pleaſure, if I thought it would eaſe you, be perſwaded of it, and that I had rather dye, then abandon you, If I did not expoſe you, by my ſtay here to a danger greater then your Diſeaſe. I retire, but I retire to dye, not being able to reſist ſo much ſorrow. Gulbeas overcome with the ſtrength of her diſeaſe, peirc'd to the quick at Iſſoufs illneſs, and weakned with [Page] the violence of her Criſis, could not anſwer thoſe tender aſſurances but with Tears, which made her faint away. Here it was that Poor Iſſouf had need of his whole ſtock of reaſon, to reſiſt ſo much Grief, and yet Act nothing that might betray the ſecret, he was forc'd to reſt contented with ſighs, which were attributed to his late fainting.

Gulbeas was long in that condition, and beginning to Breath again, Boullaſter who fear'd ſome new accident, endeavour'd all ſhe could to bring back Iſſouf, from his afflicted Miſtriſs.

He could not reſolve on ſuch a ſad ſeparation, which he foreſaw would be eternal; He would fain have expir'd near what he lov'd, yet he was forc'd to obey his Miſtriſs's orders, who made ſigns to him, not being able to ſpake, and gave him her hand, which he kiſs'd, proteſting that he would not out live her.

[Page]All thoſe accidents which had accompanyed ſo ſad an enterview, was not ſufficient to overcome our unfortunate Lovers. It happen'd that paſſing by one of the doors of the Seraglio where there ſtands Baltadges, which are certain varlets from without, that one of them diſtruſting the feigned Gevahers going, which was become careleſs through her grief and pain; fancy'd it a diſguiſe, and ſtop'd Iſſouf by the arm; Boullaſter, whoſe Wit was always at hand, without ſpeaking to the Baltadgj, for fear of bringing more to them, drawing near, dropt into his hand a ring which ſhe pull'd of her own Finger, and preſſing his hand ſhe thereby oblig'd him to give liberty to this poor Lover to get out, who thought much leſs on the preſent accident then on Gulbea's troubles.

So ſoon as Iſſouf was return'd to his Palace, he went to his Bed, [Page] his Feaver increas'd, and finding himſelf preſs'd with that diſeaſe which kill'd him, he would employ that little time he had to live, in taking leave of his dear Miſtriſs, and to give her his laſt farewell.

I dye for you, Incomparable Gulbeas, and Death is the more pleaſing to me, becauſe I hope that its Cauſe which was your Criſis, will be that of the prolongation of your days. I ſhould dye without trouble, had I the certain news of it. The diſeaſe preſſes upon me, and I employ that little time which is left me, in giving you teſtimonies of a love which I ſhall carry to my grave: happy if that laſt moment can better convince you then divers Years of Sighs and Tears have done. Adieu, all lovely, live and remember that the ſame love which reſtores you to Life is the Cauſe of my Death.

No ſooner had he ended his [Page] Letter, but he immediately ſent it with the Ring on his Finger, in which his Miſtriſs's name and his were Ingraven on a very clear Ruby, to Boullaſter, and was preſently ſeis'd with a diſturbance in his head, and a redoubling of his Feaver, which depriv'd him of his Senſes and Speech, which never return'd again but with the laſt ſigh, which he vented, in pronouncing the lovely name of his Miſtriſs.

Gulbeas, whoſe Criſis had put out of all Danger, the ſweat having Diſſipated the Tumors of the Plague, was more Diſtemper'd in the Mind then the Body, Iſſouf's ſilence, and Boullaſter's ſtay from giving her an Account of all that had paſs'd, ſince their parting, did ſtrangly Perplex her, and giving her ſad Warnings of what was coming, ſhe felt moſt mortal diſquiets, ſhe would Weep all [Page] Day, and the Night was paſs'd in Watchings, or in Terrible Viſions, which foretold her nothing but thoſe Dangers which ſhe fear'd. The ſame night that Iſſouf expir'd, ſhe thought that a Woman of a Prodigious height, as Lean as a Skelleton, and of a frightful Deformity, her Hairs ſpread abroad approaching her with the Face of a Fury, a great Knif in her Hand, was opening of her ſide, and pulling out her Heart. All thoſe Nocturnal Viſions, Augmented her Sorrows. She had made Choice of me for her Confident ever ſince Iſſouf's adventure, I did endeavour to Divert her, and turn her off of all thoſe Melancholy Thoughts, nothing could Adminiſter Comfort to her; But it was much worſs, when Boullaſter came to the Seraglio, ſome days after Iſsoufs Death, to acquit her ſelf of the laſt Commiſſion, which he had given her.

[Page]So ſoon as ſhe did ſee her, ſhe earneſtly Inform'd her ſelf of Iſſouf's welfare; but the Jewiſh Woman's ſilence, who could not diſſemble, nor keep in her Tears, gave her eaſily to underſtand that truth which ſhe fear'd to learn, Ah! Cry'd ſhe, Iſſouf is no longer in being! and preſently fell in my Arms in a Swoon.

When ſhe was come to her ſelf again, Iſſouf's Letter and Ring which Boullaſter put into her Hands, not being able to ſpeak one word, did Confirm that Sorrowful News, She Divers times kiſs'd thoſe dear Pledges of Iſſouf's eternal Conſtancy, Water'd them with her Tears, and did hang the Ring at her Neck, as a Mark that ſhe Devouted her ſelf to her Lover's Ghoſt; and having remain'd ſometime without Speech, her Face from Pale as it was, became Red, and as if ſhe were become Furious. [Page] Fatal Deſtiny, cry'd ſhe, thou Renders me my Life in killing what I Love, and thou ſelleſt me very dear, that which I can no longer Love, ſeeing that he, with whom I deſign'd to ſhare it, is no more. Why didſt thou not kill me, or why didſt thou Conduct him here, that I might be further oblig'd to him of my Life? after ſo many Services ſo ill rewarded, I will no longer Live after ſuch an Accident; Alas! what will Life ſignifie to me, after that he, who Animated me is Dead. No Iſſouf, I deſign'd not to Live but for you, and I ſhould be unworthy of your Love ſhould I have any other thoughts. That Death which was to have taken me off, has not ſpared me, in taking of you. It has doubly ſlain me in depriving me of what I Love, and permitting me to Linger out a Miſerable Life, which ſhall be but a Continual Death. You Live Iſſouf, and your most happy ſhade, enjoys at preſent the Pleaſures of the Eliſicumfields, [Page] and I ſhall never ceaſe Dying till I am reunited to you. Then Addreſſing her ſelf to the Ring. This Ring, continu'd ſhe, ſhall be henceforth the Faithful witneſs of my Love, and ſeeing it could not Ʋnite our Bodies during our Lives, it ſhall be the indiſſo lubbiletye of our Wills, and the Mark with which I will appear before you, I will continually wear it in my Boſom, and it ſhall Accompany me in my Grave, ſeeing you could not have any other thought, when you ſent it me at your Death, than that of uniting me more ſtrictly to you in the other World.

She had continu'd, and gone on further with her Complaints, if the preſence of our Companions, had not interrupted their Courſe and oblig'd Boullaſter to retreat. The Grief for his Death brought her into a Lingering Feaver, which has caus'd that Languiſhing Condition you ſee her in, [Page] and of which there is no likelihood ſhe will ever be Cured, the cauſe of her illneſs being too dear to her.

FINIS.

§

§

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THE Fatal Beauty OF AGNES de CASTRO; Taken out of the HISTORY OF Portugal.

Made Engliſh out of French By P.B. G.

§

Licenſed,

May 19th. 1688.

LONDON, [...]rinted for R. Bentley in Ruſſel-ſtreet, in Common-Garden. 1688.

TO THE READER.

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TO give an advantageous Character of this Novel, there needed but to name the Perſon that Compos'd it. The great Succeſs which all the Ingenious Works which, She has produc'd, have had, would be ſufficient to put an Eſteem on this, and none can doubt of its worth after the great Approbations that have been given to all the rest. But in this Particular I am not Permitted to Satisfie the Curioſity of the Publick. Her Will oppoſes it ſelf unto that Glory that She might juſtly pretend from it, and She does reſt ſatisfied with the bare Secret Delight which She receives, in that which She Pro [...]ares to the Ingenious. Yet I believe not that all Her Cautiouſneſs can Conceal Her from the knowing. The Nicety [Page] of the Sentiments, the Towr of the Conceptions, the clear and eaſie Stile, all does here Conſpire to Her Diſcovery. The Virtue of three as Illuſtrious as Unfortunate Perſons, which Vye with one another who ſhall moſt overcome themſelves in Greatneſs of Souls, Produces in the Heart ſuch Motions of Tenderneſs and of Pitty as do extreamly Delight. The Character of that Nation, which makes the Subject of this Novel, appears ſo Natural that it will not be Difficult to Believe the Truth of the Principal Events. Thoſe that have Read the Portugal Hyſtory, will agree to it, and I need not make any stay here to Prove it. I ſhall only ſay, that if an Ingenious Fiction, has Power to exite and stir up our Paſſions, a Truth ſo well Penn'd, as this is, will not fail of moving the leaſt ſenſible Perſons, and to draw ſuch Tears from them, as they would gladly let fall.

THE Fatal Beauty OF AGNES de CASTRO.

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THough Love promiſes nothing but Pleaſures, the Effects of it are ſometimes ſad. A Tender heartedneſs is not ſufficient to attain to a Perfect Happineſs; and that Capricious Fortune which croſſes all things, has but very little regard to Paſſionate Hearts, when She is in the Humour of producing ſtrange Adventures.

Divers Examples of the paſs'd Ages prove the Certainty of this Maxim; But the Reign of Don, Alfonſe, the 4th. of that Name King of Portugal does furniſh us with one the moſt Extraordinary.

He was the Son of that Don Denis, whoſe Enterpriſes did ſo well ſucceed, that it was ſaid of [Page] him, he did all that he would, and of Iſabella of Aragon a Princeſs of an Eminent Virtue. After he had inherited a Flouriſhing and quiet Eſtate he Endeavoured to Maintain in it both Plenty and Peace, by all means imaginable.

To that end he fix'd the Marriage of his Son Don Pedre, who was but eight years old, with Blanch Daughter to Don Pedre, King of Caſtile, who the Young Prince did Marry at ſixteeen. She brought along with her at Coimbria divers Infirmities, and but a few Agreements. Don Pedre who had a ſtock of Mildneſs and of Bounty, notwithſtanding all thoſe inconveniencies, did live in good intelligence with her; But at laſt thoſe inconveniences being degenerated into a Paralitic Diſtemper, and Blanch herſelf being deſirous of a retreat the Pope did annul the Marriage. The Princeſs did confine in Solitude all her Languiſhments and the Prince for whom [Page] other Nuptials had been prepar'd, did marry Conſtantia Manuel, Daughter to Don John Manuel, Prince of the Blood of Caſtile, and famous for that reſiſtance, which he made to hi [...] King.

Conſtantia had been promiſed to the King of Caſtile; but he breaking his Word, ſhe was given to a young Prince, who was once to reign over a conſiderable number of fair Provinces. He was but in his twenty fifth year, and the hanſomeſt Man of all Spain: with the moſt advantageous Qualities of the Body, he poſſeſt thoſe of the Soul, and in all things, he did prove himſelf worthy of that Crown, which was appointed for him.

The Princeſs Conſtantia was Beautiful, Spirituous, and generous as much as any Woman in the World, her Merit ought to have Captivated Don Pedre, and certainly he had for her an Eſteem mix'd with reſpect; which might have paſs'd for Love with the leſs [Page] Penetrating Perſons. Mean time his more real Flames were reſerv'd for another Beauty.

Conſtantia, brought forth a Son in the firſt Year of her Marriage; who was Named Don Louis, and who ſcarce had the time to diſcern the light; The loſs of him did cauſe her to feel many Sorrows; but that cold indifferency which ſhe obſerv'd in thoſe Cares which her Husband did beſtow on her, was much more ſenſible to her. It had not been difficult for her to give herſelf wholly to her Duty, and to ſingularly cleave to his tender Affections, but that powerful Intereſt which bound her ſo ſtrictly unto the Prince of Portugal, did open her Eyes on his actions, where ſhe could not find any thing that was Natural, and that could ſatisfiy her Nicety.

At firſt ſhe thought ſhe had deceived herſelf; but time having confirm'd what ſhe fear'd, ſhe did ſecretly ſigh for it, and had ſo much [Page] Conſideration for the Prince as to give him but ſome obliging marks of her Sorrow, which ſhe could not Conceal from Agnes de Caſtro, who lived with her, and the Princeſs Affection did diſtinguiſh her from all the other Women.

This Maiden ſo dear to the Princeſs, did well deſerve that preference which ſhe gave her. She was exceſſively Beautiful, wiſe, diſcreet, Spirituous, and more Affectionate for Conſtantia then ſhe was for her own Intereſt, having left her Family, whoſe name was Illuſtrious, and that did hold a very Conſiderable rank, to give herſelf wholly to the Princeſs, and to follow her into Portugal. It was in her boſom that ſhe poured forth her firſt Sorrow, and the Charming Agnes omitted nothing that could Adminiſter Comfort to her.

Conſtantia was not the only Perſon which Complained of Don [Page]Pedre, before the Divorce of Blanch, he had expreſ'd ſome Tenderneſs towards Elvira Goncales, Siſter to Don Alvar Goncales, Favorite to the King of Portugal; and that Amuſement of the Princes youngeſt Years, having made a real Impreſſion on Elvira, whoſe Ambition had been flatter'd by Blanche's Infirmities, ſhe had ſeen Conſtantia poſſeſs her place, with a ſecret Rage, and to be Miſtreſs of Sufficiency of Charms to take from her all to the laſt hopes.

Her Jealouſy left her not long idle; ſhe examin'd all the Prince's Actions, and without difficulty did unravel the Cauſe of that indifferency, which he had for his Spouſe: But that did not bring him back to her, and it was with great preſumption, that ſhe miſtruſted ſome new Paſſion in him, which ſhe promiſed to her ſelf to thwart ſo ſoon a [...] ſhe ſhould find it out. She had a mind that was very fit for bold Enterpriſes, and her Brothers Credit did [Page] raiſe ſuch a pride in her, that all the Princes indifferency was not capable to humble.

He did languiſh, and none could gueſs at the Cauſe, he had no longer any reliſh for public Sports, ordinary converſations were uneaſy, and ſolitude only had ſome power over him; this change ſurpris'd every body, Don Alfonſo, who lov'd his Son, deſign'd to diſcourſe him about it; but the Prince gave no other Anſwer, than, that it was an effect of his Temper.

All this while, time did paſs, and the Princeſs was deliver'd of a ſecond Son, who liv'd and was nam'd Ferdinando. Don Pedre did force himſelf a little to ta [...] a ſhare in the public Joy. It was believ'd that the humour was going to alter; but that glimpſe of a Calm laſted not long, and he ſoon did relapſe into his deep Melancholly.

The plotting Elvira was inceſſantly agitated, in ſeeking after the Knowledg of his Secret. Chance [Page] labour'd for her in it. One day, that ſhe was walking of her fury in the Palace's Gardens, ſhe found the Prince of Portugal aſleep in an obſcure Grotto. Her Fury could not hold againſt that Object. She caſt her Eyes on him, and perceiv'd that in ſpight of ſleep ſome Tears did ſteal from his Eyes. That ſhare which he ſtill had in her heart, had no hard task to ſoften it; but ſhe heard him ſigh, and afterwards to expreſs theſe ill articulated Words: Yes, divine Agnes, I will dye before I diſcover it, and Conſtantia ſhall have no Cauſe to reproach you any thing. Elvira was ſeis'd with horror at that diſcourſe, which preſently repreſented to her Imagination Agnes de Caſtro with all her charms, and not doubting but that it was ſhe who poſſeſt Don Pedre's heart, ſhe felt more hatred againſt that Rival, than ſhe had of Tenderneſs for him. The Grotto was no ſit place to make Reflections in, and to form [Page] deſigns. Perhaps that her firſt tranſport had caus'd her to have awakned the Prince, had ſhe not perceiv'd under his hand a Paper, which ſhe ſeis'd, and that ſhe might not be ſurpris'd reading of it, ſhe went forth with as much diligence as emotion.

When ſhe was got to her Apartment, ſhe open'd the Paper trembling, and in it found theſe Verſes writ with Don Pedre's own hand, which it is likely he had newly compos'd.

Deſiſt, Torment no more my Heart,

Honour, and Sacred Rights, chief conſerns of my Glory

Love whiſpers me another ſtory.

And I yeild to his Conquering Art.

Ye ſeeming over laſting ties,

Conspell'd engagements, Oaths Love never made,

You muſt all, at his feet be laid

As a Moſt humble Sacrifice.

Dear Princeſs, you, to whom my Faith is due,

Pardon my over-ruling Fate,

'Tis confeſs'd, I deſerve your hate.

'Laſs! tis my Star renders me falſe to you.

[Page] Elvira knew well Don Pedre's Writing, and was not Ignorant that he made Verſes, and obſerving the ſad part that Hymen Acted in thoſe which was fallen into her hands, She Scrupled not to produce them to the Princeſs: That ſhe might not be ſuſpected, She appeared not in the leaſt; but it being not ſufficient to cauſe Conſtantia to obſerve how little her Husband Lov'd her, and that it was neceſſary alſo, to inform her, that he was become Agnes de Castros, Slave, Elvira caus'd theſe few Words, in an Unknown Hand, to be Writ under the Princes Verſes, where there was a ſufficient ſpace.

Sleep betray'd this unlucky Lover

Compell'd his own Lips to diſcover,

The very Dictates of his Heart,

Declaring, Agnes, makes it Smart.

Elvira did not much ſtick on the Nicety of Poetry in the laſt Verſes, and provided, they had [Page] but the Effect which ſhe wiſh'd for, ſhe requir'd no more.

Her Impatiency would not permit her to ſtay till the next day to Publiſh them. She went to the Princeſs Apartment, who was gone forth to walk, and paſſing to her very Cloſet without being perceiv'd, ſhe conveyed the Paper in a Book which the Princeſs did uſually read, and Retired very well ſatisfy'd with her good Succeſs.

So ſoon as Conſtantia was return'd, ſhe went into her Cloſet, where ſhe found the Book open and in it thoſe Verſes that ſhould coſt her ſo dear. The Prince's Character was well known to her; but beſides the cruel Confirmation of all that ſhe had feared, ſhe learn'd that it was Agnes of Caſtro, whoſe ſole Friendſhip could conſolate her Affliction, who was the cauſe of it. She did Read an hundred times over the ſame thing, ſeeking to belye her own Eyes and Reaſon; but perceiving too well that ſhe was not deceiv'd, [Page] and conſulting her Thoughts on this Adventure, ſhe found her ſelf much more poſſeſt with Sorrow then with Anger, when ſhe conſider'd that Don Pedre as Amorous as he was, had ſtill preſerv'd his Love in Secrecy. After having pittyed him without Condemning, her natural tenderneſs did cauſe her to ſhed a deluge of Tears, and did inſpire her with the deſign of concealing all her Grief.

She had certainly done it by the Power of an Extraordinary Virtue, had not the Prince enter'd with extream haſt, he miſſing his Verſes at his awaking, and fearing they ſhould light into Indiſcreet Hands, he came into the Palace diſturb'd with this Loſs, came to Conſtantia, obſerv'd her Humid Eyes, and ſtay'd his own on thoſe unlucky Verſes, which had newly eſcap'd from his Paſſion.

He preſently grew Pale, and appear'd ſo Concern'd that the [Page] Generous Princes was more ſenſible of his then of her own Misfortune: Madam, ſaid he, with Amazement, whence have you that Paper? It cannot come but from ſome Enemy of your quiet and mine, reply'd Conſtantia, it is the Work of your own Hand, My Lord, and doubtleſs of the Motion of your Heart alſo; but fear nothing, if my Tenderneſs would make it paſs for a Crime, that ſame Tenderneſs which nothing can alter, would prevent it in me.

Conſtantia's Moderation did ſerve but to render the Prince more Confounded. How Generous you are Madam continu'd he, and how Unfortunate am I! Some Tears did Accompany thoſe Words, and the Princeſs who Paſſionately Lov'd him, was ſo ſenſibly mov'd with them that for along ſpace they both remain'd Mute. At laſt Conſtantia broke ſilence, and ſhewing him, what [Page] Elvira had caus'd to be added; You have betray'd your ſelf, My Lord, continu'd ſhe, you have been over-heard, and your Secret is known. It was in that very Moment that the Princes whole Strength did Abandon him, and that his preſent Condition became worthy of Compaſſion. He could not forgive himſelf that Unvoluntary Crime which he had committed againſt the Amiable Innocent Agnes; and though he was convinc'd of Conſtantia's Bounty, the Vexation which this Prudent, and Modeſt Maid might receive from his Conduct, did carry it above all other Conſiderations.

The Princeſs who was examining of him with her Eyes, perceived ſo many marks of deſpair on his Face, that ſhe fear'd the effects of it, and obligingly holding forth her hand to him; I promiſe you, my Lord, ſaid ſhe, that I will never complain of you, and that Agnes ſhall ever be dear to me. You [Page] ſhall not find me inclin'd to make you reproaches; and not being capable of poſſeſſing your heart, Il'e reſt ſatisfyed in endeavouring to render my ſelf worthy of it. Don Pedre more concern'd than before, bowed a Knee before Conſtantia, kiſs'd with reſpect that hand which ſhe had given him, and, perhaps did forget Agnes for a moment.

But Love did ſoon put a ſtop to theſe ſmall Progreſſes of Hymen, That fatal Planet which did predominate over Don Pedre's Fate, had not yet ſpent all it's malignity; and one moment of Agnes his ſight, ſoon added new Forces to his Paſſion.

That fair Maids conſent had had no ſhare in her victory, her eyes were exact and diſcerning, but they ſought not in the Princeſs eyes, for that which they would have diſcovered to her.

She never did uſe to be long diſtant from Conſtantia, wherefore Don Pedre was no ſooner gone out of the Cloſet but ſhe came into it, [Page] and finding the Princeſs mov'd and melting, ſhe doubted not but that ſhe had ſome juſt Cauſe of Sorrow; ſhe put her ſelf in the ſame poſture, that the Prince had been but a moment before, and expreſſing her diſturbance with concerned Looks, Madam, ſaid ſhe, in the name of your Bounties, conceal not from me the Cauſe of that Trouble I find in you. Alas! Agnes, reply'd the beautiful Princeſs, what is it you would know, and what am I to tell you? The Prince is in Love. That hand which he once gave me, was no preſent of his heart, and all the advantage of this Allyance, will but make me the Sacrifice. The Prince in Love! reply'd Agnes, with an Amazement mixt with Indignation: And what Fatal Beauty can diſpute with yours the Empire of an heart ſo juſtly due to you? Ah! Madam, all my reſpect cannot hinder me from murmuring againſt him. Do not accuſe him of any thing, reply'd Conſtantia, he [Page] ſtrives all that he can, and I am more oblig'd to his endeavouring to remain faithful to me, than if I really did enjoy his affections. It is not ſufficient to fight for to overcome, and the Prince does more in that diſpoſition he finds himſelf in, than I ought to have hoped for. In fine, he is my Husband, an amiable Husband, to which there is nothing wanting, but that which I have not been able to inſpire in him, that is, a Paſſion which had rendred me too happy. Ah! Madam, cryed out Agnes de Caſtro, tranſported with her affection for Conſtantia: He is a blind Prince, who knows not the precious advantage which he poſſeſſes. It muſt needs be that he knows more, reply'd the Princeſs, modeſtly: But Madam, continued Agnes, is there any thing either in Portugal, or in all Spain, that can be compar'd to you? And not to reckon on the Qualities of your Perſon, can thoſe of your mind be ſufficiently prais'd? [Page] —My Dear Agnes, replyed the Princeſs ſighing, ſhe that takes my Husbands heart from me, has but too much wherewith to plead his Excuſe, ſeeing it is of thee that Fortune has made uſe to give me that woeful blow: Yes, Agnes the Prince loves thee, and that Merit which I know to be in thee, puts a ſtop to my Complaints, not admitting of the leaſt reſentment.

The Beauteous Agnes little expected what the Princeſs had ſaid to her. Thunder and Lightning, had leſs ſurpris'd and abaſs'd her, ſhe remain'd long Speechleſs; but at laſt fixing her looks on Conſtantia; What ſay you Madam, reply'd ſhe, and what thoughts have you had of me? What ſhould I be capable of betraying you? And in coming here fill'd with Zeal for the quiet of your Life I ſhould bring with me but a direful Poiſon, that ſhould diſturb it? How ſhould I deteſt that little of Beauty which is found in me, (though [Page] without any deſign in me of making of it known) and that unfortunate day in which I firſt beheld the Prince! But Madam it cannot be me certainly that the Heavens have choſen to travers you. They are not ſo much my Enemy to put me to ſo ſevere a Tryal, and if I was that Odious Perſon, there would be no Exiles nor Torments to which I would not condemn my ſelf. 'Tis Elvira, Madam, whom the Prince has formerly Lov'd, before your Marriage, and even before Blanch's Divorce; ſome indiſcreet reports have been made you concerning that intregue of his Younger days; but that which has happen'd in the time of Blanch, has no relation to you. It is moſt certain that Don Pedre Loves, you anſwered the Princeſs, and I have vanity enough to believe that of truth, there is none but you in all Spain that can diſpute it with me, but his ſecret is diſcover'd, and he has not deny'd it. What, reply'd [Page] the Beauteous Agnes, with a greater ſurpriſe it is from himſelf, that you have receiv'd the Intelligence of his weakneſs? Then did Constantia ſhew her the Verſes, and there never was any diſpair like hers.

While they were in that ſad converſation, Impatient Elvira, who was deſirous to learn the effects of her Practices came again to the Princeſs, where ſhe had a free acceſs, ſhe was not hindred from going to her very Cloſet, and her Preſence drew a redneſs on the cheeks of two reſtleſs and afflicted Perſons which deſired not her Company, ſhe had the ſatisfaction of obſerving Constantia to lay aſide thoſe Verſes, which the Princeſs had not ſeen without her Malice, and of an imoderate Sorrow in her Eyes, and in Agneſe's alſo. She remain'd there juſt ſo long as needed to inform her that ſhe had ſucceeded well, but the Princeſs who deſired not ſuch an obſtinate Witneſs of the troubles ſhe was in at that [Page] preſent, order'd to be left alone, Elvira went out, and Agnes de Caſtro retired at the ſame time alſo.

It was in her own Chamber, that examining more at large her Adventure, ſhe found it as cruel as Death it ſelf. She Lov'd Conſtantia with a true Affection, and till then, had not had for the Prince of Portugal but an eſteem mixed with that admiration which could not be deny'd to his Excellent Qualities, and conſidering herſelf with extremity of Grief, as the cauſe of the Sorrows of ſuch a Princeſs to whoſe Bountys ſhe was ſo Indebted, ſhe Employd all the Night in Tears and Complaints, which ſufficiently reveng'd Conſtantia of theſe Evils which ſhe caus'd her to feel.

The Prince was no leſs diſturb'd, his Wives generoſity increaſed his remorſes, without diminiſhing his love. He did fear, not without great likelineſs, that they who had [Page] poſſeſt Conſtantia with thoſe Verſes, would alſo acquaint the King of his paſſion, from whom he could not expect ſo great an Indulgency, and he would freely part with his Life to free himſelf from that extremity.

The afflicted Conſtantia did Languiſh in a deplorable condition, ſhe could not ſee any thing in thoſe Perſons that caus'd her Misfortune, but what was apt to move her tender affections. At laſt Jealouſy deſign'd, (but vainly) to combat that tendency which ſhe had, to Love them. The Prince was not leſs dear unto her, and ſhe could not be ſenſible either of hatred or indifferency towards her rival.

While that theſe three uneaſy Perſons did abandon themſelves unto their Melancholy, Elvira who was reſolved not to let her vengeance remain imperfect was contriving by what means ſhe might accompliſh it. Her Brother on [Page] whom ſhe did depend, did ſhew her a great affection, and gueſſing that the Loves of Don Pedre and Agnes of Caſtro would not be approv'd of by the King, ſhe diſcover'd it to Don Alvares, who was not Ignorant of the former that the Prince had had with his Siſter. He found himſelf moſt powerfully concern'd in the news ſhe had told him, through a ſecret paſſion which he had for Agnes, which he had concealed in his own Breaſt leaſt it ſhould in any ſort thwart the ſmooth courſe of his good Fortune, and he was in expectation of a continuation of Don Alfonſes Favours, whereby to render his Heart, a more conſiderable preſent.

He concealed not from his Siſter a Miſtery which he had found very difficult to keep ſecret, and it prov'd a duplication of vexation to her, to find Agnes the Sovereign of all thoſe Hearts over which ſhe had any pretentions.

[Page] Don Alvares was one of thoſe Ambitious men that are ſo without Moderation, Proud without Generoſity, of cruel inclination, and who to attain his ends, could not ſee any thing, that was either difficult or Illigitimate. He Naturaly lov'd not the Prince who in all reaſon was to poſſeſs the firſt place in Don Alfonſe's Heart, and who ſet limits unto Don Alvare's good Fortune. But he underſtood that he was his Rival, Jealouſie increas'd his hatred, and he intreated Elvira to employ all her cares to croſs an engagement which could not but be oppoſite to his deſigns. She promiſed him all aid and aſſiſtance, though ſhe was not ſatisfied, as to her own concerns, and he rely'd on her promiſe and dexterity.

Don Alvares, who had ſenſibly felt the Prince of Portugal's concurrence in his amours, had no other thoughts but of thwarting and oppoſing his Merits. He had no [Page] handſom preſence, neither was he of an agreable temper, and Don Pedre had thoſe advantages, and poſſeſs'd divers others alſo, but being Husband to Conſtantia, and that he wholly depended on a Father who was abſolute, and that Don Alvares was under no reſtraint, and Maſter of a conſiderable Fortune, he truſted his good Fortune on that ſcore.

He knew well that Don Pedre's Love could not but inſpire Don Alfonſe with a violent anger; and being over diligent in doing evil, his firſt Care was to inform him of it. After he had given ſufficient Leaſure to his anger to rouſe unto that Pitch he would have it, he ſpoke for himſelf, and ſoon did render the King Protector of his Paſſion.

Though Don Alvares had no other Merits with the King of Portugal, than a continual blind Complacency, he had poured all hi [...] Favours upon him, and in that [Page] State in which the Kings Liberality had placed him; few Women could well refuſe his Allegiance, Don Alfonſe did aſſure him the connuation of his Friendſhip and Favour, and did aſſure him that he himſelf ſhould looſe his authority, or that he would make him Maſter of Agnes.

Don Alvares, perfectly learned in the Art of managing his Maſter did anſwer his laſt bounties with a profound ſubmiſſion, and very fit to continue them. He had never ſpoken to Agnes what he did feel for her, but he then thought it time to break forth, and immediately ſought after the means to perform it.

The galantry of Coimbria which lay in oblivion did then rouſe it ſelf up again. The King to pleaſure Don Alvares under a pretence of diverting of Conſtantia, did order ſome public ſports, and it was his Pleaſure that all things ſhould appear very magnificently.

[Page]Ever ſince the adventure of the Verſes Don Pedre had endeavor'd all means to conſtrain himſelf and of appearing leſs concern'd; but in the bottom he ſtill equally ſuffer'd, and it was not without great uneaſineſs that he fitted himſelf for the Juſting. And ſeing that he could not appear ſo Publicly with Agnes's Colours, he took thoſe of the Princeſs, without any Motto or Agreements.

Don Alvares ſet himſelf off with Agnes de Caſtro's Liveries, and that beautiful Maid, who found no comfort in what the Princeſs had ſaid, had this further addition of Sorrow.

Don Pedre did appear in the Liſt extream graceful, and Don Alvares who look'd upon this day as his own, did appear all Glittering with Gold and Jewels mixed with blew, which was Agnes's Colour, and his Equipage was all over ſprinkled with inflamed Hearts, and Love Knots, with aboundance [Page] of double As; his Motto was a Cupid breaking out of a Cloud with theſe four Verſes under it.

My Baſhful Love, Baniſh all fear,

From your concealing Cloud appear.

For nows the time, moſt Charming Eyes

To know that heart, you made your Priſe.

Don Alvares's Pride was laid humble at Don Pedre's Feet, who bore him down with twenty more, and he alone carried the honour of the day. At Night there was a gallant appearance at Conſtantia's appartment, where Agnes had not been without an expreſs and abſolute order from the Princeſs. She did appear very negligently dreſt, though ſtill charming with Vexation, ſhe had ſeen her Name and Colours us'd by Don Alvares, in a public Solemnity, and if her Heart was capable of any tenderneſs it was not for ſuch a Perſon as he, that her Nicety deſign'd them. She look'd on him with a Contempt, which hinder'd him not from preſſing much upon [Page] her, and ſhe was forc'd to give Ear to what he had a mind to ſay.

She was not rude, but her Coldneſs would have repuls'd all other but Alvares: Madam, ſaid he to her, ſo ſoon as he could not be heard but by her ſelf, I had till this preſent concealed that Paſſion which you had Inſpired me with; in fear of your diſpleaſure; but it has forc'd my reſpect, and I can no longer conceal it from you. I have made no reflections on your Actions, reply'd Agnes, with all th [...] indifferency imaginable, and if you offend me, you wrong me the more in deſiring my taking Notice of it. This Coldneſs is of evil Omen to me, reply'd Don Alvares, and if you have not this day taken notice of my love, it is to be fear'd, that you will never approve of it. Alas! what time have you choſen to ſhew i [...] me, contin'd Agnes, does it ſo much Honour me, that you ſhew it with ſo mu [...] [Page] care, and do you believe me ſo greedy of Glory, as to Aſpire at that which derives from you? You have ill maintain'd it in the Juſts, and if it is that vanity which prompts you on, you will make no great Progreſs in a Soul which loves not ſhame. Though you were in Poſſeſſion of all the Advantages which the Prince has merited, yet you ought to reflect on what you are doing, and it is not a Perſon like me that can be mov'd by ſuch reſpectleſs enterpriſes.

Don Alfonſe's Favourite was too Proud, to hear Agnes thus ſpake without Colour; but his deſign being to render her flexible, and not to anger her; he conceal'd his Reſentment; and taking Notice of the Obſervation which ſhe had made on Don Pedre's Tryumph with an Addition of Jealouſy. If, I have not overcome at the Juſt, [...]eply'd he, I am not leſs Amorous, [...] leſs capable of Succeſs in other [...]ſions.

[Page]They were interrupted; but from that day, Don Alvares, who had gone over the firſt difficulties, no longer obſerv'd any Meaſures, and Perſecuted Agnes, to whom the Kings Protection Inſpir'd not the leaſt conſiderations for him.

Don Pedre was ſtill Ignorant of the means by which thoſe Verſes which he had loſt in the Garden had fallen into Conſtantia's hands. The Princeſs appearing very Indulgent to him, he had no other trouble but for Agne's Intereſt. Don Alvare's Love, that was now ſo known did perplex him, and if he had follow'd his own Dictates, he had not left her expos'd to the Perſecutions of that unworthy Rival. On the other hand he fear'd that the King ſhould be inform'd of his Paſſion; but he did not then reflect enough on Elvira, to fear her Reſentments.

She Burnt with a deſire to ruine Agnes, againſt whom all her Poiſon [Page] was ſtirr'd up, and ſhe was not tyred with making daily new reports to her Brother, aſſuring him though ſhe had no proofs for it, that Agnes did anſwer to the Prince's tenderneſs, that it was the true cauſe of Conſtantia's Grief, and that if that Princeſs ſhould dye of it, Don Pedre might Marry Agnes, infine ſhe did ſo irritate her Brothers Jealouſie, that he run, to ſhew it wholly to Don Alfonſe, who Trembled with Anger at it; My dear Alvares, ſaid he, to him, Marry her, that Beauty that is ſo dangerous, and let your Poſſeſſion ſecure both yours and my quiet. If I have protected you in other occaſions, Judge what a buſineſs of ſuch Importance to me can make me undertake. Act without any reſerve. The Powers of the Kingdom are in your Power, and all that I poſſeſs ſhall be certainly at your diſpoſal, provided you but render your ſelf. Maſter of Agne's Deſtiny.

[Page] Don Alvares well pleas'd with his Maſter, took hold of all the Authority that he gave him. He really Lov'd Agnes, and was loath to come at firſt to any violence; but he promis'd himſelf to be beyond all Management if ſhe ſtill continu'd inſenſible.

Mean time Agnes de Caſtro highly importun'd with his Aſſiduities, deſperate at Conſtantia's Griefs, and peradventure molified by thoſe which ſhe cau [...]'d the Prince to ſuffer, did take a Reſolution worthy of her Virtue. As Amiable as was Don Pedre, ſhe could not ſee in him but the Husband of a Princeſs that was moſt dear to her, and far from ſeeking to improve that Power which ſhe had over his Heart, ſhe thought of nothing but abſenting her ſelf from Coimbria. Don Alvare's Paſſion, which ſhe would not favour did furniſh her with a pretence, and preſs'd on with the fears of cauſing at laſt a Divorce, moſt [Page] Cruel betwixt the Prince and his Spouſe, ſhe found out Constantia in a perplexity that all her cares could not conceal.

The Princeſs eaſily obſerv'd it, and their common misfortune having not alter'd her Friendſhip. What's the matter with you Agnes, ſaid ſhe, with her wonted ſweetneſs, and what new misfortune does your ſorrow come to inform me of; That Attachment which I have for you, Madam, reply'd Agnes, does put me to a Cruel Tryal, and pouring forth a Flood of Tears, I had limited the happineſs of my Life in the hopes of ſpending of it near your Perſon, yet I find that I muſt Tranſport ſomewhere elſe an Uunfortunate Face, that renders me but ill Offices, and it is to obtain from you that Permiſſion, that I come to Embrace your Knees, looking on you as on my Sovereign.

Conſtantia was ſo ſurpris'd and ſo mov'd at Agne's propoſition, [Page] that ſhe remain'd Speechleſs; for ſome Moments, ſome ſincere Tears expreſs'd her firſt grief, and after ſhe had ſufficiently ſhed them to give Agnes a ſufficient Mark of her Tenderneſs, ſhe fixed her Sorrowful Eyes upon her, and obligingly holding forth her hand to her, then you will go, my dear Agnes, continu'd ſhe, and further expoſe me unto the ſorrow of ſeeing you no more. Alas, Madam reply'd that amyable Maid, Conceal from the Miſerable Agnes a Bounty which increaſes her Sorrows. It is not I that would depart, it is my Duty and my Reaſon that will have it ſo, and thoſe days that I ſhall paſs abſent from you, cannot promiſe me any thing ſo agreeable as to inſpire me ſuch a deſign if I found not my ſelf abſolutely compell'd to it. I cannot be Ignorant of what paſſes at Coimbria, and I ſhould be an Accomplice to thoſe Unjuſtices which are there committed ſhould I reſide [Page] there any longer — Ah! I know your Virtue, cryed out Constantia, and you may remain here in all ſecurity, if I ſtay you here, and whatever does happen I ſhall never accuſe you of any thing. We muſt not promiſe our ſelves any thing of future, Madam, reply'd Agnes ſorrowfully, and I ſhall ſtill remain ſufficiently Guilty, ſo long as my preſence ſhall entertain ſuch thoughts as cannot be accounted Innocent. Moreover Madam, Don Alvare's importunities are unſufferable, and finding in my ſelf nothing but Averſion againſt him, that the King protects his Inſolency, and that he is in a Condition of undertaking much, my flight is abſolutely neceſſary; But Madam, though he poſſeſſes nothing but what is odious to me, I call Heaven to Witneſs, that if I could Cure the Prince by Marrying of him, I ſhould not defer it one moment, and finding in my mind, the Conſolation of having [Page] Sacrific'd my ſelf for my Princeſs, I ſhould bear it without any Murmur; But in fine though I ſhould be Don Alvare's Wife, Don Pedre would ſtill have the ſame Eyes, and I find nothing better then to go hide my ſelf in ſome Corner of the World, where I ſhall certainly Live without Comfort; but where I ſhould preſerve my innocency. All that Juſtice which you can find in this deſign, anſwer'd the Princeſs, ſhall not oblige me to approve of it. Would your Abſence reſtore me Don Pedre's Heart, and would he not fly with you? His Cares, are mine, my Life is link'd with his, reduce him not then to a diſpair, if you, love me. I know you, I once again declare it to you, and what power ſoever you have over the Prince's heart, I ſhall not permit that you ſhould leave us.

Though Agnes believ'd ſhe had a perfect Knowledg of Conſtantia, ſhe did not expect ſuch a fund of [Page] Virtue, ſhe found her ſelf the more Unfortunate by it, and the Prince more Guilty. Oh! Wiſdom, Oh! Bounty! beyond Example cry'd ſhe out; why do not the Cruel Fates afford you all that you deſerve. You are the Arbiter of all my Actions, continu'd ſhe, kiſſing one of Constantia's hands, I will not do but what you pleaſe; but I beſeech you to think on what reaſon ought to prompt you to preſcribe to me.

Don Pedre, who had not yet ſeen the Princeſs that day, came in juſt then, and finding them both diſturb'd he inquired after the reaſon with ſome earneſtneſs. My Lord reply'd Conſtantia, the too Wiſe and too ſcrupulous Agnes fears the Effects of her Beauty, and will no longer live at Coimbria and it is on that Account, which cannot be pleaſing to me, that ſhe is asking my Advice. At this diſcourſe the Prince grew pale, and with more diſturbance then either of them had. [Page] Agnes cannot err, ſaid he, in following your Counſels; Madam, and I leave you with free Liberty of given them to her. He preſently went out, and the Princeſs whoſe heart he did ſo abſolutely poſſeſs, not being able to conceal her diſcontent. My dear Agnes, continu'd ſhe, though my ſatisfaction was not chain'd to the ſight of you, I ſhould ſtill deſire it on Don Pedre's account. It is, the only Advantage that his Unfortunate Love can hope for, and ſhould I not be with Juſtice reputed barbarous, if I ſhould contribute towards his being depriv'd of it? But that object is but a Poiſon to him, reply'd Agnes, and what ſhould I do my Dear Princeſs, if after ſo much reſtraint, his Mouth ſhould add to thoſe Evils which I have already felt, that of hearing him ſpake of his flame? You ſhould hear him without running him into diſpair, added Conſtantia, and I ſhould charge that new Obligation on my [Page] Account. You would have me to wait for events that I fear, Madam, anſwer'd Agnes, I ſhall obey you. But ye juſt Heavens! If they are Fatal, puniſh not for them an Innocent Heart. Thus ended that Converſation. Agnes retir'd into her Chamber; but it was without hopes of being more at eaſe.

That which Don Pedre had learn'd of her deſign, produc'd a ſtrange Diſturbance in his mind, he wiſh'd he did not Love her, and deſired Death with great earneſtneſs, but it was too late for him to wiſh againſt what the Fates had decreed, and whatever he endeavour'd to reſolve himſelf to bear as to the Abſence of Agnes, his Love never had the Power to conſent to it.

After he had long ſtrove, he firmly reſolv'd to do that which he would not have Agnes to do. His Courage did reproach to him that idle Life which he lead during his happieſt years, [Page] and repreſenting to the King that their Allies, and even the Prince Don John Manuel his Father-in-Law, had buſineſs in hand which required his preſence upon the Frontiers, he eaſily obtain'd the Liberty of making that Voyage, unto which the Princeſs could make no oppoſition.

Agnes did ſee him depart without any ſorrow: but that did not proceed from any Averſion. Then did Don Alvares convert his firſt importunity into an open Perſecution. He omitted nothing to touch Agne's Heart, and for ſome conſiderable time employ'd none but the. Arms of Love, but finding that his reſpect and ſubmiſſion were fruitleſs, he took another Courſe, and fram'd moſt ſtrange Deſigns.

The King deferring all things to his Advices, he did eaſily inſpire in him what he pleas'd; he complain'd of Agne's Ingratitude, and fail'd not to let him know that it was but through her too great [Page] ſenſibility for the Prince that ſhe was ſo inſenſible to him, ſo that Don Alfonſe apt to be irritated, reiterated all thoſe Promiſes, which he had already made him.

The King of Portugal, had not yet diſcours'd Agnes in Favour of Don Alvares, and not doubting but that his Will would overcome all ſorts of Obſtacles, he ſought after an opportunity of Entertaining her, and putting her at ſome diſtance from thoſe that might over-hear them, I did think Don Alvares to be of a ſufficient Merit, he ſaid, to obtain ſome ſmall ſhare in your Eſteem, and I did not think it neceſſary that I ſhould require it of you for him, I know you are all charming, but he has nothing unworthy of you, and on the leaſt Reflection you might make of the Choice that my Friendſhip has made of him, amongſt all the reſt of my Courtiers, you would doubtleſs readily do him more Juſtice. His Fortune is not to be [Page] diſputed, ſince I am the Protector of it. He is of a Noble Birth, his Courage does him Honour, he adores you, and in my opinion ſo many reaſons ought to over-come your Scorns.

Agnes's Heart was ſo little diſpos'd to give it ſelf to Don Alvares, that all the King of Portugal's Exagerations prevail [...]d nothing in his behalf. Though Don Alvares were without Merits, Sir, She reply'd, he poſſeſſes ſufficiently of Advantages in thoſe Bounties with which your Majeſty does Honour him, to ſupply all other defects. It is not to find any defects in him that I anſwer not his wiſhes; But, Sir, through what Obligation would he have me to Love him, if the Heavens have not furniſhed me with a tender Soul? and why does he pretend that I ſhould ſubmit my ſelf to him, when that nothing ought to be more dear to me then Liberty? You are neither ſo free nor ſo inſenſible [Page] as you ſpeak, reply'd Don Alfonſe, bluſhing with Anger, and if your Heart was free from all ſorts of Affections it might receive a more reaſonable one then that which poſſeſſes it. But Imprudent Maid, that you are guided by an ill fate, added he with Fury, what can you pretend from Don Pedre? Hither to I have conceal'd the ſorrow that his and your weakneſs have caus'd me; but it has not been the leſs violent for that; and ſince you oblige me to let it break forth, I ought to tell you that though my Son were not tyed to Conſtantia, his Marriage ſhould never conſern you. Renounce thoſe vain Ideas, and take a courſe that may cure him and juſtifie your ſelf.

The Courageous Agnes, was ſcarce Miſtriſs of her firſt Tranſport, at a Diſcourſe ſo full of Scorn, but calling her Virtue to ſecond her Anger, ſhe overcame her ſelf by her own reaſon, [Page] conſidering the wrong which ſhe ſuſtained not as proceeding from a great King, but from a Man blinded and wholly poſſeſs'd by Don Alvares. She thought him not worthy of her reſentment. Her fair Eyes were animated with a ſparkling brightneſs, which witneſſed the purity of her intentions, and fixing them on Don Alfonſe; if the Prince Don Pedre has failings ſaid ſhe, with an Air that inclin'd ſomething to diſdain, he has never inform'd me of them, and I do not believe that I have contributed to them. To cure your diſtruſt, and ſet my Honour ſafe, I ſhall live at a diſtance from him, and all that belongs to you. Yes, Sir, I ſhall contentedly leave the aboad of Coimbria, and as to that Man ſo dear to you, added ſhe, with a Noble boldneſs, of which the King of Portugal was very ſenſible, that Favorite, who is ſo worthy to poſſeſs the moſt tender affections of a great Prince, I do aſſure [Page] you that in what part of the World ſoever my Fortune leads me, I ſhall not carry the leaſt thought of him with me. At theſe words, ſhe made a profound Bow, and did ſo ſuddainly diſtance herſelf from Don Alfonſe, that he could not oppoſe himſelf againſt her retirement.

He believ'd more then ever that ſhe did Favour Don Pedres paſſion, and paſs'd into Conſtantias appartment, to inſpire her with the ſame thought; but ſhe was not capable of receiving ſuch impreſſions, and following her Natural inclination, ſhe generouſly defended Agnes's Virtue, Don Alfonſe, vexed to find her ſo well diſpos'd on her rivals account, whom he would have her to hate, did murmur againſt her goodneſs, and went to joyn his anger to Don Alvare's rage who no longer wa [...] Maſter of himſelf after he had ſeen that his Maſter's Negotiation wa [...] of no effect. That Proud one [Page] braves me, Sir, ſaid he, and contemns the Honour that your bounties have made her, that I might renounce ſo fatal a paſſion; but I muſt love her againſt my will, and though that Flame ſhould coſt me my Life, I plainly feel that I can not put it out. What i'st that I can do for you? replyed Don Alfonſe? Alas! Sir, reply'd, Don Alvares, that which I can never hope for from Proud Agne's conſent. Well, added the King ſeeing that I muſt not Publicly authoriſe any Violence in the Center of my Kingdom, chuſe from amongſt all my Subjects ſuch as thou ſhalt Judge moſt capable of ſerving thee; carry off that Beauty which charms thee, and if ſhe yeilds not to thy Love, make uſe of all that force can do for thee, to force her to Marry thee.

Don Alvares raviſh'd with ſuch a propoſition, which at once did Flatter his reſentments and his [Page] love caſt himſelf at Don Alfonſe's Feet, did expreſs his acknowlegments to him, ſet forward his Zeal, with new proteſtations, and thought no longer but to employ his unjuſt authority againſt Agnes.

Don Pedre had been abſent above three Months, when Don Alvares did undertake that which the King had advis'd him to do. Though the Princeſs moderation was well known to him, he fear'd his preſence, and was loath to expect the return of a rival with whom nothing had yet been diſputed.

One night that the ſorrowful Agnes, full of her daily Diſturbances, was in vain expecting ſleep, ſome unknown men, whoſe ſteps were well order'd did take her out of the Palace, and after carried her out of Coimbria, without being hindred by any Obſtacle, ſhe could not well tell on whom to fix her Suſpicions. Don Alvares [Page] ſeem'd too powerful to ſeek for his Satisfaction after ſuch a manner, and ſhe did not taxe with this attempt a Prince of whom ſhe had too good an Opinion. All that ſhe could ſay, did not hinder her ill adventure; ſhe was carried away with dilligence, and before day, ſhe was already conſiderably diſtant from the City.

At the firſt Glimps of day, ſhe look'd on all thoſe that ſurrounded her, not knowing ſo much as one; and perceiving well, that both out-cries, and tears, were in vain to ſuch cruel minds, ſhe reſted contented in imploring the protection of Heaven, and ſo abandon'd her ſelf to her Conductors.

While ſhe was overwhelm'd with Sorrow, and uncertain of her doom, ſhe perceiv'd a Body of Horſe to advance towards the Troops that conducted her; The raviſhers did not avoid it, beleiving it to be Don Alvares; but coming [Page] near, they perceiv'd that it was the Prince of Portugal, who without any knowledg of this opportunity of ſerving Agnes, was returning to Coimbria full of her Idea, after he had perform'd all that he was to do in his expedition.

Agnes, who did not expect him alter'd her mind, and thought that it was by his orders that ſhe was forc'd away. Ah! my Lord, ſaid ſhe, in that thought, was it you that was thus to tare me from the Princeſs? and muſt ſo cruel a blow fall on me from a hand ſo dear to her? What will you do with a miſerable wretch who ſeeks but for Death? and why will you Tarniſh the Glory of your life, by a deſign ſo unworthy of you?

That Language did no leſs ſurpriſe the Prince, then the ſight of Agnes had done. He Apprehended that ſhe had been forc'd away, and inſtantly reſenting the moſt peircing ſtrokes of Anger, he gave [Page] her to underſtand with one ſingle look, that he was not the baſe author of her grief. I, tare you from Conſtantia who are all her joy, ſaid he, what thoughts have you of Don Pedre? If you ſee me here, I am wholly Innocent of that violence which is offer'd you, and which I ſhall prevent. Then did he turn himſelf towards the Raviſhers; but his preſence had already diſpers'd them. He order'd his Men to purſue them, and at leaſt to ſeiſe ſome from whom he might learn the authority by which they did Act.

During this, Agnes was not leſs confus'd then before, ſhe admir'd the conduct of her Fortune, who brought the Prince at the very moment that he was ſo uſeful to her. Her equity did ſoon redreſs the wrong which her diſtruſts had caus'd her to do him. She felt ſome joy to have eſcaped a Misfortune which appear'd ſo certain to her, but it was no quiet [Page] joy, when ſhe conſider'd that her deliverer was her lover too, and ſuch a lover as deſerv'd her entire acknowledgments, but that alſo owed his Heart to the moſt amiable Princeſs in the World.

Don Alvares, who fear'd being ſeen near to Coimbria, and who delay'd Proſecuting of Agnes till ſhe was at a diſtance from it, had confided his deſign to ſome Friends, which he jug'd capable to execute it, and that had done it had not the Prince interpos'd.

During the time that his Men were perſuing of the Raviſhers of Agnes, he remain'd almoſt alone with her, and though he had reſolv'd always to avoid her preſence, his Fortitude could not withſtand ſo fair an occaſion. Madam ſaid he, is it poſſible that Men born amongſt thoſe that obey us, ſhould be capable of offending you? It was not to the care of Puniſhing ſuch a Crime that I thought my ſelf reſerv'd; but ſince the Heavens have permitted [Page] that you ſhould receive it, I muſt periſh or cauſe you to forget it. My Lord, reply'd Agnes, more mov'd at this diſcourſe, then at Don Alvares's enterpriſe, thoſe that want reſpect for the Princeſs and for you, may be diſpens'd from having any for me. I no longer doubt but that Don Alvares is the Author of this attempt, and I judge what I may expect from him, by that which his importunity has made me ſuffer. He is certain of the Kings protection, and he deſigns to make him partner in his crimes; But my Lord the Heavens have conducted you moſt happily here for me, and to you do I owe the Liberty of again ſerving the Princeſs. You would do for Conſtantia, that which is impoſſible not to perform for you, reply'd Don Pedre, your goodneſs binds you to her, and others Fortunes does for ever engage them to you.

[Page]The modeſt Agnes, who dreaded this diſcourſe, as much as the danger which had been prevented, made no other anſwer then to caſt down her looks, and the Prince who underſtood her diſorder, left her to ſpake to two of his Men, who brought him back one of thoſe that Don Alvares had employ'd. He pardon'd him, and did not think that he ſhould puniſh him, for having obey'd a man, who was made Almighty through his Fathers weakneſs.

After this, Agnes was brought back to Coimbria where her being forc'd away, began to be highly cenſur'd. The Princeſs, was infinitely Afflicted, and at firſt believ'd it was a conſequence of that deſign which that Fair Maid had expreſs'd to her of her retirement; but ſome Women that waited on her, having declar'd that violence had been offer'd to her, Conſtantia went and made her complaints to the King, who gave no great attention to the relation.

[Page]Madam, ſaid he, let that Fatal Plague that deprives you of your Husbands Heart, be remov'd from you, and be not Afflicted at her abſence, rather thank Heaven with me for it.

The generous Princeſs took Agne's part, with a great deal of courage, and ſhe was ſtill diſputing with the King, when Don Pedre, came to Coimbria.

The firſt object which ſtruck his Eyes was Don Alvares, who was croſſing one of the Courts of the Palace, in the midſt of a Cloud of Courtiers, which his Favour did faſten to him. The ſight of him caus'd Don Pedre to be diſturb'd, but the ſight of Don Pedre and Agnes gave him much greater troubles, he eaſily gueſt that it was Don Pedre who had reſcued her from his Men, and if his fury could have Acted all that it would have done, it had produc'd very ſad Effects, at that very Moment.

[Page] Don Alvares, ſaid the Prince to him, is it thus that you employ that authority which the King my Father gives you? have you receiv'd Employs, and Power from his bounty, but to employ them in perfidiouſneſs and in abuſing of Women? Were you ignorant of that intereſt which the Princeſs has in this Maid, and did you not know what a tender affectionate eſteem ſhe has for her? No, reply'd Don Alvares, with ſuch inſolency as did quite anger the Prince, I was not Ignorant of it, nor of that ſhare your Heart has in it. Baſe wretch, reply'd the Prince, neither that favour which thou abuſes, nor that inſolence which makes thee p [...]ate, ſhall hinder me from Puniſhing of thee, were thou worthy of my blows; but there are other ways to humble thy Pride, and it is not ſuch an arm as mine that muſt take on it the vile employ of Chaſtiſing ſo mean a thing as thou art.

[Page] Don Pedre went forwards at theſe words, and left Don Alvares in ſuch a rage as cannot be expreſs'd mad to ſee an enterpriſe fail, which he believ'd ſo ſure, and at the Princeſs ſcorn of him, and promiſs'd to himſelf to Sacrifice all to his revenge.

Though Don Alfonſe lov'd his Son, he was too much prepoſſes'd with his paſſion, to Pardon him what he had newly done, and he did condemn an action of great Juſtice, as if it had been an heinous Crime.

Elvira who the ſweetneſs of hope had flatter'd for ſome moments, beheld Agne's return with a moſt ſenſible Sorrow, which left her no other thoughts then of ſtirring up her Brother to revenge.

In fine the Prince did ſee Don Alfonſe, but inſtead of being receiv'd by him with that joy which he owed to the good ſucceſs of his expedition, he ſhewed him nothing but a cloſe Anger. After he had [Page] render'd, him his firſt reſpects, and and exact account of his proceedings he ſpoke to him of that violence which had been offer'd Agnes de Castro, and complain'd of it in the Princeſs's Name as well as his own. You ought to be ſilent in that reſpect, reply'd the King, and that motive which cauſes you to ſpake, is ſo ſhameful that I bluſh and ſigh for you. What concerns it you whether that maid, whoſe preſence troubles me, be remov'd from hence or not? ſo long as I would have it ſo. But Sir, reply'd Don Pedre, was open force, craft and the night Seaſon, to be employ'd, where the leaſt of your orders was ſufficient? Agnes had obey'd you, and if ſhe remains here ſtill, peradventure it is againſt her will. However, Sir, Conſtantia is offended at it, and without the fear of diſpleaſing you, which, retains me, that action had not remain'd unpuniſh'd. How happy are you, [Page] reply'd Don Alfonſe, with a ſcornful ſmile, to make uſe of Conſtantia's name in this, to maintain the intereſts of your Heart. Do you think I know them not, and that that unfortunate Princeſs, looks on the wrong you do her with indifferency? never more mention Agnes to me continu'd he, in a ſevere Tone, be ſatisfy'd that I Pardon you for what is paſs'd, and think well on the kindneſs which I have for Don Alvares, when ere you deſign any thing againſt him. No, Sir, anſwered the anger'd Prince, I ſhall not ſpake any more of Agnes; but neither Conſtantia, nor I will any longer ſuffer her to be any more expos'd unto the inſolency of your Favorite.

The King of Portugal had like to have broke forth at this Diſcourſe; but ſome Reliques of Prudence prevented it. Retire, ſaid he to Don Pedre, and go make Reflections on what I can do, and what you owe me.

[Page]During this Converſation, Agnes was receiving from the Princeſs, and from all the Ladies of the Court, great Expreſſions of Joy and Friendſhip, Conſtantia ſaw again her Husband, with a great deal of ſatisfaction and far from being ſorry at what he had lately done for Agnes, ſhe privately return'd him thanks for it, and ſtill was the ſame towards him, nothwithſtanding all the Jealouſy which was endeavour'd to be inſpired in her.

Don Alvares who found in his Siſter, a Maliciouſneſs worthy of his truſt, did not conceal his fury from her. After ſhe had made vain attempts to moderate it, in blotting Agnes out of his Heart, ſeeing that his Diſeaſe was incurable, ſhe made him underſtand, that ſo long as Conſtantia ſhould not be Jealous, there was no hopes. That if Agnes ſhould once be ſuſpected by her, ſhe would not fail of Abandoning her, and that then it [Page] would be eaſie to get Satisfaction, the Prince being now ſo Proud of Conſtantia's indulgency. In giving this Advice to her Brother, ſhe promis'd to ſerve him effectually, and having no need of any body but her ſelf, to perform ill things, ſhe recommended Don Alvares to manage well the King.

Four Years were paſs'd in that Melancholy ſtation, and the Princeſs beſides her firſt dead Child, and Ferdinand who was ſtill Living, had brought two Daughters into the World.

Some Days after Don Pedre's return, Elvira, who was moſt Dextrous in the Art of well Governing any Wicked Deſign, did gain one of the Servants which belong'd to Conſtantia's Chamber; ſhe firſt ſpoke her fair, than overwhelm'd her with Preſents and Gifts, and finding in her as ill a Diſpoſition as in her ſelf, ſhe readily reſolv'd to employ her.

After ſhe was ſure of her, ſhe [Page] compos'd a Letter, which was after Writ over again in an unknown Hand, which ſhe depoſited in that Maids Hands, that ſhe might deliver it to Constantia with the firſt opportunity, telling her that Agnes had dropt it; This was the Subſtance of it.

I employ not my own Hand to Write to you, for Reaſons that I ſhall acquaint you with. How happy am I to have overcome all your Scruples! And what Happineſs ſhall I find in the Progreſs of our Intreague! The whole Courſe of my Life, ſhall continually repreſent to you the ſincerity of my Affections; pray think on the ſecret Converſation that I require of you. I fancy ſtill, that all Perſons that approach you, deprive me of ſomething of my due. I dare not ſpake to you in public; Therefore come this Night where you know, I conjure you to it by all that I have ſuffered; Mention no more Conſtantia to me; ſhe [Page] muſt be ſatisfy'd with my Eſteem, ſince that my Heart could be none but Yours.

The falſe Portuguiſe Servant, obey'd Elvira exactly, the very next day perceiving Agnes coming from the Princeſs ſhe brought the Letter to Constantia, who receiv'd it, and found in it, that which ſhe was far from thinking on. Never did tenderneſs produce ſo ſorrowful an Effect as then. Alas! they are both Guilty, ſaid ſhe ſighing, and notwithſtanding that Tendency which I find in my Heart to juſtifie them, my reaſon muſt needs Condemn them. Unfortunate Princeſs, Sorrowful Subject of Fortunes Capricios, why canſt thou not Dye, ſeeing thou art not of a Humor to Revenge thy ſelf! Don Pedre, ought you to give me your Hand, when you knew you could not give me your Heart? And thou fair and ungreateful Agnes, wer't thou born to produce the Evil of my Days, and to be the cauſe of my [Page] Death? After ſhe had given ſome Moments unto the violence of her Sorrow, ſhe call'd to her that Perſon who had brought her the Letter, charg'd her not to ſpake of it to any body, and then order'd that no body whatſoever ſhould be Admitted into her Chamber.

Then did ſhe with more Liberty think on him whom ſhe could not inſpire with Love, and on her that betray'd her. The trouble of her Soul did not hinder her from ſeeking ſome means to excuſe them. And deſirous to do all that ſhe could for Don Pedre, ſhe took a firm Reſolution of not complaining of him.

Elvira was not long, without being Inform'd of what paſs'd, and of the Princeſs's Sorrow, whence ſhe hoped for all that ſhe could wiſh.

Agnes far from imagining any ſuch Storm, return'd to Conſtantia, and learning her indiſpoſition, ſhe [Page] paſs'd the reſt of the day at her Chamber door, to learn ſome News of her; but ſhe was not permitted to enter. That Novelty did ſurpriſe and diſturb'd her. The Prince had the ſame fate, and was ſtartled at an order that was not to concern him.

Finally the next day Conſtantia appear'd; but with ſo much Dejection, that it was difficult to believe that ſhe had ſuffer'd much. Agnes was the moſt preſſing to approach her. The Princeſs could not contain her Tears. They both kept ſilence along time, Conſtantia did attribute that of Agnes, to ſome remorſe, and that Unfortunate Maid not being able to contain any longer; is it poſſible, Madam, ſaid ſhe, that two days can have depriv'd me of all that Bounty which you had for me? What have I done? And for what Crime are you thus to puniſh me? The Princeſs look'd languiſhingly [Page] upon her, and did not anſwer her, but with a ſigh, and Agnes offended at ſuch a reſervedneſs, went out after an haſty manner, which contributed much to make her be thought Guilty.

After this the Prince came, who found Conſtantia more diſturb'd then uſually, and he moſt obligingly did Conjure her, not to neglect her Indiſpoſition. My greateſt good, is not the Preſervation of my Life, My Lord, anſwer'd ſhe, I ſhould take more care of it, did I love you leſs; But — ſhe could not go on, and the Prince being put into a Conſternation through her diſturbance, did moſt ſorrowfully ſigh'd without anſwering, which caus'd her an increaſe of Sorrow. To this ſome grains of anger being added, and all things tending to perſwade the Princeſs that ſhe was Sacrificed amongſt them, ſhe did not enter on any diſcourſe that might produce [Page] a right underſtanding, ſo left her Husband retire without ſpeaking to him.

Nothing is more capable of diſturbing our Reaſon, and of altering our Health, then the ſecret Motions of Jealouſy and Solitude. Conſtantia who was accuſtom'd, to ſpake freely to Agnes, and who beleiv'd ſhe was deceiv'd by her, did Abandon her ſelf to ſuch Perplexity as quite did overcome her. She fell violently Sick. The whole Court was concern'd at this Misfortune; and Don Pedre was really Afflicted at it: But Agnes appear'd more Concern'd then all the Reſt.

Conſtantia's Coldneſs towards her, her continual ſighs, and her obſtinate Diſtemper, caus'd that after ſhe had ſought after the occaſion of it, in all that ſhe could recal into her Memory, ſhe began to fear her ſelf, and to reproach her ſelf for all that the Princeſs did ſuffer.

[Page]Mean time the Diſtemper did ſo increaſe that Conſtantia's Life was extreamly fear'd, and that ſhe her ſelf began to find that it was time to think no longer of it; that though caus'd her no diſturbance, She look'd on Death as a great good, and perceiv'd the deſpair thoſe Perſons approach'd her were in without the leaſt Concern.

Don Alfonſe who lov'd her and knew her Virtue, was mov'd at the Extremity ſhe was in, and Don Alvare's who had not loſt the leaſt occaſion, of making him conceive that it was Jealouſy which caus'd Conſtantia's Death, did but too much Exaſperate him againſt ſuch Criminals as were moſt worthy of Compaſſion.

The King of Portugal was not of a Temper long to Conceal his Anger. You give Examples, ſaid he to the Prince, that will render your Memory very Illuſtrious, and Conſtantia's Death, of which none [Page] but you can be accus'd, is the Unfortunate Effects of a Guilty Paſſion. Dread Heaven after this, and look on your ſelf as a Monſter that deſerves not to Live. If my Blood did not ſtill Plead in your behalf, what might you not fear from my juſt Reſentments? But what may not the Imprudent Agnes, to whom nothing Binds me, expect, if Conſtantia Periſhes? She that in my Court Foments your fooliſh Paſſion with vain hopes, and cauſes us to looſe ſo Amiable a Princeſs, that you were not worthy to poſſeſs.

Don Pedre knew, that Conſtantia was not Ignorant of his concerns for Agnes; but he alſo knew with what Moderation ſhe had always expreſs'd her ſelf on that point. The Kings reproach was very ſenſible; but his fault not being voluntary, and that an Imperious Accident did force him to Love in deſpight of [Page] all his reſiſtance, he appear'd more Afflicted, then Confounded. Without well examining of me, you have accus'd me, Sir, anſwer'd he, and if my intentions were well known to you, you would not, may be, find me ſo guilty, I ſhould take the Princeſs whom you ſay I Sacrifice for Judge of my Actions, were ſhe in a Condition to be Conſulted. If I am Guilty of any Weakneſs, her Equity has never reproach'd me of it, and my Mouth has never informed Agnes of it. But Sir, though I had Committed ſome Fault wherefore would you Puniſh an Innocent Maid for it? Who would perhaps Condemn them as much as you do? Ah! Wretch reply'd the King, ſhe has but too much favour'd you, and thy flames had not been ſo conſtant had they not been well rewarded. Sir, reply'd the Prince, peirc'd with Sorrow for the wrong which was offer'd to Agnes, you [Page] offend a Virtue moſt pure, and thoſe expreſſions which proceed from your Anger, do not become you. Agnes has afforded me no Favours, I did never ask her any, and I proteſt that I have not had ſo much as a thought againſt what I owe to Conſtantia.

While they were in this Diſcourſe one of the Princeſſes Women came all in Tears to Advertiſe Don Pedre, that ſhe was at the laſt Gaſpe. Go look on your Work, ſaid the King, and expect no longer, from a Father, who has but too much ſpar'd you, but that Severity which you deſerve.

The Prince did run to Conſtantia, who he found Dying, and Agnes in a Swound in the Arms of ſome Women. That which had caus'd that redoubling of illneſs, was that Agnes, who could no longer bear the Princes indifferency, had Conjur'd her to tell [Page] her what her Crime was, and either to deprive her of life or reſtore her Friendſhip to her.

Conſtantia who felt that ſhe muſt ſuddainly Dye, would not retain a ſecred Anger againſt Agnes, and after ſome words that prepar'd her to a ſorrowful clearing of the buſineſs ſhe ſhew'd her that Pernicious Note, which Elvira had Compos'd. Ah! Madam, cry'd out the Beautiful Agnes, after ſhe had Read it, Ah! Madam, how many ſorrowful diſquiets had you ſpared me, if your Heart had expreſs'd it ſelf with its accuſtomed Bounty. It is not hard to ſee that this Letter is Artificial, and that I have moſt Mercileſs Enemies. Can you believe the Prince ſo Imprudent as to employ another Hand, then his own in ſuch an occaſion as this? And do you think me ſo ſimple as to keep that teſtimony of my ſhame with ſo little Cautiouſneſs? you are not betray'd, neither [Page] by your Husband, nor by me I call Heaven to Witneſs, and thoſe Attempts which I made to get out of Coimbria. Alas! My Dear Princeſs, how little have you known ſhe that you have ſo Honour'd. Believe not that if I have juſtify'd my ſelf, I ſhall ever ſuffer the Worlds Converſation. No, no, there is no retreat diſtant enough for me to flye to, and I ſhall ſo well conceal my face, that it ſhall never give offence.

The Princeſs mov'd at Agnes diſcourſe and Tears, did preſs her hand, which ſhe held, and fixing her looks on her, capable to move compaſſion in the moſt inſenſible Souls; If I have done you any wrong, my dear Agnes, anſwer'd ſhe, Death which I expect every moment will avenge you of it. I ought alſo to proteſt to you, that I have not ceaſed loving you, and that I believe all that you ſay, in giving you again my moſt tender affection.

[Page]It was then that that ſorrow, which acted on them both did reduce them to that extremity, which caus'd the Prince to be call'd in. He was incapable of doing any thing at the fight of them, and notwithſtanding thoſe tender motions that inclin'd him towards Agnes, he run directly to Conſtantia.

The Princeſs, unto whom a cold clammy ſweat did denounce her laſt moment, felt that ſhe had no time to looſe and cauſing all Perſons to withdraw that ſhe ſuſpected, my Lord, ſaid ſhe to Don Pedre. Though I quit my life without repining, I leave not you without regret and trouble. But dear Prince I muſt overcome even dying, and I will wholly forget my ſelf, to turn my thoughts only on you. I reproach you not, well knowing that it is inclination alone that diſpoſes of Hearts, and not reaſon. Agnes is ſufficiently Beautiful, to inſpire moſt ardent paſſions, [Page] and ſufficiently virtuous to deſerve the beſt Fortune in the World. I alſo ask her Pardon for ſome ſmall wrong which I have done her, and recommend her to you, as a Perſon moſt dear to me. Promiſe me, before I expire, to give her my Place in your dominions. It cannot be better fill'd. You cannot make choice of a more perfect Princeſs for your People, nor a better Mother for your Children. And you my dear and faithful Agnes, continu'd ſhe, lend not an ear to a too ſcrulous virtue, which might oppoſe it ſelf to the Prince of Portugals happineſs. Refuſe him not, an Heart that he is worthy of, and give him that Friendſhip which you had for me, with that which you owe to his Merit. Take care of young Ferdinando, and of the two little Princeſſes that will retrieve me in you, ſpake of me ſometimes to them. Farewell [Page] live both happy, and receive my laſt embraces.

The afflicted Agnes, who had recover'd a little of ſtrength, loſt once more all her ſenſes. Her faintneſs was follow'd with ſuch violent Convulſions that her life was in very great danger. But Don Pedre kept cloſe to Conſtantia, what, Madam, would you depart; and with a belief that it were an advantage to me. Ah! Conſtantia if my Heart has in any wiſe wrong'd you, your own virtue puniſhes it, againſt your will for it. Think you me ſo barbarous —as he was going to continue he perceiv'd that Death was cloſing for ever the generous Princeſs's Eyes, and it little wanted that he did not follow her.

But what an abyſs of Sorrow was this to Agnes? ſo ſoon as ſhe learn'd, during a reſpite, that her reaſon receiv'd that Conſtantia was newly expir'd, ſhe would have [Page] deſtroy'd her ſelf, and gave a full ſcope to her diſpair.

At the Noiſe of this Death both the City and Fields were in an uproar, Elvira who then ſaw Don Pedre free to diſpoſe of himſelf, repented for having contributed to the Death of the Princeſs. Don Pedre who accus'd himſelf of it, did condole his Misfortune; And Agnes who thought herſelf the true cauſe of it, did promiſe to her grief that ſhe would never forgive herſelf for it.

There was reaſon to watch her for diverſe days, in which ſhe dryed not her Tears The Prince imploy'd them in a deep Mourning; But when the firſt Notions of grief were over, thoſe of his love made him ſenſible that he was ſtill the ſame.

Don Alvares, who fear'd now the Prince's diſengagement, made new attempts to gain Agnes de Caſtro, who was become inſenſible of [Page] all things but of her own diſcontent. Elvira deſirous to reap advantage from her own dexterity, imploy'd all the Art, and Craft in her brains, to rekindle thoſe fires wherewith the Prince had formerly courted her; but his inconſtancy was already limited, and Agnes alone was to reign over his Heart.

She had taken a firm reſolution ſince the Death of Conſtantia to give her ſelf wholly up to retiredneſs for the reſt of her Life. Maugre all the Cautiouſneſs which ſhe us'd to conceal her deſign, the Prince was inform'd of it, endeavour'd all he could to diſpoſe his conſtancy to ſubmit to it. He beleiv'd himſelf ſtronger then he was in that point; but after he had well Conſulted himſelf, he knew but too well, how much Agnes's preſence was neceſſary to his welfare. Madam, ſaid he to her one day, his Heart ready to break, [Page] and his Eyes full of Tears, which of the Actions of my Life, may have caus'd you to reſolve on my Death! Though I have never told you how much I Love you, I am Perſwaded that you are not Ignorant of it. I have been forc'd to ſilence during many years, for yours, Conſtantia's, and my own ſake; But it is no longer in my power ſo to conſtrain my ſelf, and I ought to expreſs my ſelf at leaſt once with you. Receive therefore the aſſurance of a paſſion, full of reſpect and of heat with the offer of my Fortune, which I ſhould not wiſh better, but to ſhare it with you.

Agnes anſwer'd not at firſt to theſe words but with abundance of Tears; at laſt having dryed them up, and looking on Don Pedre with an Air, which gave him to underſtand that ſhe was not well agreed with her wiſhes; If I were capable of that Weakneſs [Page] which you would inſpire me with, My Lord, reply'd ſhe, you were oblig'd to Puniſh me for it. What, Conſtantia is ſcarce in her Tomb, and you would have me to offend her thus? No my Dear Princeſs, added ſhe, with more vehemency, No, ſhe who you have ſo much weighed down with favours, ſhall not deſerve the curſe of Heavens and the ſcorn of Men by ſo perfidious an action. Do not therefore, my Lord, [...]bſtinate your ſelf in a deſign which I ſhall never approve of. You owe Constantia ever after her Death, ſuch a fidelity as may juſtifie you; and I, to repair thoſe Afflictions which I have caus'd her, I ought to avoid all Converſation with you. Go Madam, reply'd the Prince, changing Colour, go and expect the News of my Death, in thoſe places where your Cruelty ſhall Conduct you. They ſhall follow you cloſe, and that War, [Page] that now employs our Neighbours will ſoon procure it me.

Thoſe words made the Beauteous Agnes of Caſtro to feel that her innocence was not altogether ſuch as ſhe had taken it to be, and that her Heart did concern it ſelf for the Prince. You owe the Preſervation of your Life unto the Prince and Princeſs, that Conſtantia has left you, ſhe tenderly reply'd. Would you abandon their Youth to Don Alvares? Live, my Lord, live, and Permit the moſt unhappy Agnes to fall a ſingle Sacrifice? Ah! thou Cruel Maid, reply'd the Prince, why do you order me to Live, if I cannot live without you? Is it an effect of your hatred? No, My Lord, reply'd Agnes, with ſome concern, I hate you not; and would to Heaven that a little of indifferency would come and aſſiſt my Weakneſs, cauſe me not to ſay more. You perceive my Bluſhes, expound them as you [Page] pleaſe; but ſtill conſider, that the leſs Averſion I find in me towards you, the more guilty I render my ſelf, and that I ought not to ſee or ſpake to you. In fine, My Lord, if you oppoſe my retirement, I declare that Don Alvares, as odious to me as he is, ſhall ſerve me as a fence againſt you, and that I ſhall rather reſolve to marry a Man which I abhore, than to favor a paſſion which has caus'd Conſtantia's Life. Well, Agnes, reply'd the Prince with looks full of ſorrow, follow thoſe Motions that your Barbarous Virtue inſpires you with. Take thoſe cautious Meaſures which you judg moſt neceſſary, againſt an Unfortunate Love, and enjoy the Glory of having refus'd all to my deſires.

He retired at theſe words, and all troubled, as was Agnes, ſhe would not retain him; Her Courage overcame her Grief and ſhe thought more then ever on her depart.

[Page]It had been difficult for her to leave Coimbria, without the Kings conſent, and not to defer that which appear'd ſo neceſſary to her, ſhe was at Don Alfonſes Apartment. Maugre Don Alvares intereſts, he ſhew'd her a ſevere brow, and yet not being able to give his conſent to her requeſt, you ſhall not ſtir from hence, ſaid he, and if you are wiſe, you will here ſhare and enjoy any Friendſhip with Don Alvares. I have deſign'd another way, Sir, anſwer'd Agnes, and the World has no ſhare in it. You might except Don Pedre, reply'd the King of Portugal, his condition may ſatisfy an ambitious Perſon; but you would not ſucceed Conſtantia, who ſo tenderly lov'd you; and Spain hath more Princeſſes wherewith to fill, a part of that Throne, which I am to leave to my Son, Sir, reply'd Agnes, touch'd to the quick with that diſcourſe. If I had any diſpoſitions for Love, [Page] and deſigns of mariage, the Prince ſhould be perhaps the only Perſon, on whom I could fix them, and you, Sir, know that if my anceſtors wore no crowns yet they were not unworthy of them. However I will be gone, and I believe not my ſelf a Slave in a place in which I came free.

This bold Anſwer, which diſcover'd truly Agne's Character, did ſtartle Don Alfonſe, and at the ſame time did vex him alſo. You ſhall go, when we ſhall think it convenient, reply'd he, and without being a Slave at Coimbria you ſhall however expect our orders there.

Agnes well ſaw that there was no ſhrinking from thence and ſhe was ſo troubled at it, that ſhe kept her Chamber for many days, without daring to inquire after the Prince; and that ſolitude ſav'd her the labour of ſeeing Don Alvares.

During this Don Pedre fell ſick, [Page] with ſo much violence and danger, that the fear of his Death was general. Agnes could not doubt but that it was an effect of his troubles ſhe at firſt believ'd her ſelf ſufficiently ſtrong to ſee him dye, rather then prove favourable; but ſome ſmall reflections did ſoon convince her of the contrary. She found not in the bottom of her Heart that cruel conſtancy, which ſhe thought to be ſo firmly eſtabliſh'd there. She felt ſome trouble and diſorder, ſhed Tears, made wiſhes, and finally diſcovered all her Weakneſs.

None could behold the Heir to the Crown, and a Prince that ſo well deſerv'd it in that extremity, without a general affliction. The People who lov'd him, did paſs whole days at the Palace Gates, to learn news of his health, and the Courtiers were ſorrowful.

Don Alvares alone could conceal a Malicious Joy before the [Page] King, under ſorrowful appearances. Elvira full of tenderneſs, and perhaps of remorſe ſuffer'd on her part alſo. The King who though he condemn'd his Sons love, did however love him, could not reſolve to looſe him, and Agnes de Caſtro, who knew the exceſs of his grief expected the end with ſtrange agitations.

Finally after more then a Month of fears, ſome little hopes did appear. The Prince himſelf, with Don Alvares, were the only two, that had no joy at it, but Agnes did feel enough for all the reſt.

Don Pedre perceiving that he muſt reſolve to live, againſt his own will, thought no longer then how to paſs ſorrowful days, ſo ſoon as he was able to go, he ſought after ſolitarineſs, and even gain'd ſo much over his weakneſs, as to go in all Places where Agnes did not appear but her Idea follow'd [Page] him ſtill every where, and his memory very faithful in repreſenting her to him with ſo many Charms, did ſtill render her dangerous.

One day, that he had been conducted in the Garden, he ſought after a Labyrinth which was at the fartheſt end, there to conceal his Melancholy during ſome hours, he found the ſorrowful Agnes, who had been brought thither by thoughts little differing from his, and her ſight which he expected not, caus'd him to ſtagger, ſhe perceiv'd in his Paleneſs, and weakneſs, ſome relicks of his diſeaſe. His Eyes full of Languiſhments, diſturb'd her; and notwithſtanding the deſire ſhe had to fly, an unknown Power retain'd her, and it was impoſſible for her to retreat.

After ſome moments of ſilence which was interrupted with many ſighs, Don Pedre did riſe from a [Page] place where his weakneſs had caus'd him to reſt, he ſhew'd to Agnes coming towards her, ſorrowful marks of his ſufferings, and not contented to conſerne her pitty by her Eyes; you had reſolv'd my Death, cruel Agnes, ſaid he, to her, my will was agreed to it; but the Heavens would reſerve me for greater evils, and I again behold you, as unfortunate, but more in amour'd then I was before;

Agnes wanted not thoſe words to molify her, the Prince's languidneſs did ſpake, and that fair Maids Heart was but too well diſpos'd to render up it ſelf. She then believ'd that Conſtantia ought to reſt ſatisfied. Love who Combated for Don Pedre, did triumph over Friendſhip, and found out that happy moment, after which the Prince of Portugal had ſo long ſighed.

[Page]Reproach me not of that which has coſt me more then you, my Lord, ſaid ſhe, and accuſe not an Heart that is neither ungrateful nor barbarous. I muſt ſay that I love you; but when that is confeſs'd what do you require more?

Don Pedre who expected not ſo favourable a revolution, did feel a double ſatisfaction, and falling at Agnes's Feet; he told her more, with a ſilence which his Paſſion had caus'd then all the moſt Eloquent words could have expreſs'd.

After he had been ſenſible of all his happineſs, he conferr'd with Agnes on what they had to fear from Don Alfonſe. They concluded that the unfortunate Paper which had diſturb'd Conſtantia's laſt days, could not proceed but from Elvira, and Don Alvares. The Prince who knew that the King was ſeeking already after new [Page] alliances for him, and that would have his Favorite to Marry Agnes, did ſo tenderly conjure her, to prevent her perſecutions, to conſent to a ſecret Marriage; that ſhe agreed to it after a long debate, I ſhall do all that you pleaſe my Lord, ſaid ſhe, though I have but very ſorrowful foreſights. All my Blood freezes when I think on that Marriage, and Constantia's Image ſeems as if it would prevent it.

The amorous Prince did overcome thoſe ſcruples, and parted from Agnes with a ſatisfaction, which ſoon recover'd all his ſtrength. He after that did ſee her, with the Pleaſure of miſtery in love, and at laſt the day of their union was come. Don Gill, Biſhop of Guarda, performed the ceremonies of their Marriage, in preſence of divers witneſſes that were Faithful to Don Pedre who became poſſeſs'd of all Agnes's Charms.

[Page]She liv'd not quiet for being now the Prince of Portugals wife. Her Enemies who ſtill Proſecuted her did not leave her without diſturbance; and the King who was offended at her reſiſtance, did abſolutely command her to Marry Don Alvares, with threats to force her will if ſhe continu'd refractory.

The Prince did highly take her part, and that joyn'd to the refuſal which he made of Marrying a Princeſs of Arragon, gave ſuſpicions of the truth to the King his Father.

He had a ſecond, but too much intereſted in the buſineſs, not to unravel it. Don Alvares, and his Siſter did act in it with ſuch cares, gave ſuch largneſs, and made ſo many promiſes, that at laſt they did diſcover the ſecret engagement betwixt Agnes and Don Pedre.

[Page]There little wanted but that the King at firſt ſo highly tranſported, had not broke forth in a cruel manner againſt the fair Princeſs. Don Alvares, whoſe love did change into a violent hatred, did ſtop his firſt fury in making him conceive that though the Marriage could be made void he ſhould not be ſufficiently reveng'd, and he ſo well did Poiſon Alfonſes mind, that he made him conſent to Agnes's Death.

The Barbarous Don Alvares offer'd his arm for that horrid execution, and his rage did ſufficiently anſwer for the certainty of the ſacrifice.

Don Alfonſe, who thought the honour of his Family to be concern'd by this alliance, and particularly his in his Son's proceedings, did give a full power unto that executioner who animated him.

It was not very eaſy to execute that deſign though the Prince did [Page] not ſee Agnes but in ſecret, all his cares were ſtill watching for her good, and he had been above a Year her husband, when Don Alvares found the occaſion which he had ſo long ſought after.

The Prince did not take much Pleaſure, nor but rarely did diſtance himſelf from Coimbria. One unfortunate day, and ſet a part by the Heavens, for ſo horrid an act, he made a match at Hunting, towards a ſtately Houſe that the Kings of Portugal have near to the City.

Agnes lov'd all that could pleaſe him, but a ſecret trouble did make her to fear that unfortunate journey. My Lord ſaid ſhe to him, being alarm'd without knowing for what, I tremble ſeing you to day, as if it was the laſt time in my life. Preſerve your ſelf my dear Prince, [Page] and though the exerciſe you are going about is not always dangerous, conſider the leaſt of dangers and bring me back all that I confide in you.

Don Pedre who had never ſeen her ſo Fair and ſo Charming, did divers times embrace her, and went out of the Palace with his retinue not to return thither again till the next day.

While he was going, the cruel Don Alvares was preparing himſelf for that Bloody execution which he had reſolv'd. He thought it of that importance as not to ingage himſelf ſingly, and made choice, to accompany him in it of Don Diego Lopes Pacheo, and Pedro Cuello, two ſuch monſters as himſelf, whoſe cruelties had been aſſur'd him by his preſents.

They ſtay'd till night, and the [Page] Bautiful Agnes was in her firſt ſlumber, which was the laſt of her life, when thoſe murtherers came to her bed ſide. Nothing had oppos'd Don Alvares, who was all powerful, and who was introduced near Agnes, by the blackeſt of furies. She did awake and perceiv'd, drawing the Curtain, by the light of a Taper, left lighted, the dagger with which Don Alvare's hand was arm'd. He having not covered his face ſhe eaſily knew him, and forgetting her own danger to think of the Princes. Juſt Heavens! ſaid ſhe lifting up her Eyes, if you will avenge Conſtantia, reſt contented with all my Blood, and ſpare Don Pedre's. The barbarous Villain who heard her, gave her not time to ſay more, and having not had the Fortune to move Agnes's Heart, he receiv'd the horrid ſatisfaction of ſtabbling it through with a Dagger, His partners did [Page] give her ſome blows alſo, and there needed not ſo many to put an end to her innocent life.

What a Spectacle, for thoſe that approach'd her Bed the next Morning, and what news for the moſt unfortunate Prince of Portugal. He preſently return'd to Coimbria at the firſt rumour of this adventure, and did behold that which had certainly coſt him his life, if one could dye of grief. After he had a thouſand times embrac'd the bloody Corpſe of Agnes, and ſaid all that a juſt deſpair could prompt him to ſpeak, he run up and down the Palace like a diſtracted Man, requiring the Murtherers of his wife from things that underſtood him not. He at laſt ſaw the King, and without obſerving any reſpect, he gave a full ſcope to all his reſentments, after he had long ſpoken, he fell oppreſs'd with grief into a faintneſs which laſted all the reſt of [Page] the day. He was carried into his appartment, and Don Alfonſe believing that this evil would prove his cure, did not repent him of what he had done.

Don Alvares with the two others went out of Coimbria, and that abſence diſcover'd their guilt, of which the moſt afflicted Prince did promiſe a ſuddain revenge unto fair Agnes's Aſhes, being reſolv'd to perſue them to the very end of the World. He made a conſiderable party of thoſe that were affectionate to him, and after he had made havok of thoſe Territories which are watered by the Duero, he purſu'd that War unto the Death of Alfonſe, inceeſſantly mixing of Tears with the blood which he ſpilt in revenge of his dear Agnes's Murther.

[Page]Thus was the end of the unfortunate Amours of Don Pedre of Portugal, and of the beautiful Agnes de Caſtro, whoſe memory the Prince did faithfully preſerve on his Throne, on which he ſet by Birth-right after the Death of Don Alfonſe.

FINIS.

Information about this book

Title statement

Two new novels ... translated out of the French by P.B.G.

Edition statement

1688

Publication

Publisher

Text Creation Partnership,

Place of publication

Ann Arbor, MI ; Oxford (UK) :

Date

2008-09 (EEBO-TCP Phase 1).

ID [DLPS]

A64026

ID [STC]

Wing T3491

ID [STC]

Wing A3793

ID [STC]

Wing F540_CANCELLED

ID [STC]

ESTC R15142

ID [EEBO-CITATION]

13347468

ID [OCLC]

ocm 13347468

ID [VID]

99165

Availability

This keyboarded and encoded edition of the work described above is co-owned by the institutions providing financial support to the Early English Books Online Text Creation Partnership. This Phase I text is available for reuse, according to the terms of Creative Commons 0 1.0 Universal. The text can be copied, modified, distributed and performed, even for commercial purposes, all without asking permission.

Series

Early English books online.

Notes

(EEBO-TCP ; phase 1, no. A64026)

Transcribed from: (Early English Books Online ; image set 99165)

Images scanned from microfilm: (Early English books, 1641-1700 ; 371:3)

Source

— Two new novels ... translated out of the French by P.B.G., La Chapelle, M. de (Jean), 1655-1723. Langage müet. English., Brilhac, Jean-Baptiste de. Agnès de Castro. English., Belon, P. (Peter), Du Vignau, sieur des Joanots. Secrétaire turc. English..

Extent

2 pts. ([8], 74, 102 p.)

Printed for R. Bently ...,. London :: 1688.. ("Epistle dedicatory" signed: P. Bellon.) (Each novel has special t.p. and separate paging. Both novels translated out of the French by Peter Belon. The first, a translation of: Le langage müet, is an extract from: Secrétaire turc / sieur de Du Vignau.) (First English ed. Cf. BM.) (Reproduction of original in British Library.) (Entry cancelled for F540 in Wing (2nd ed.).) ((from t.p.) I. The art of making love without speaking, writing or enterview of the lovers / [M. de La Chapelle] -- II. The fatal beauty of Agnes de Castro, taken out of the history of Portugal / [J.-B. de Brilhac].)

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