Astrea. Part 3. a romance / written in French by Messire Honoré D'Urfe ; and translated by a person of quality. — Astrée. English

Astrea. Part 3. a romance / written in French by Messire Honoré D'Urfe ; and translated by a person of quality. — Astrée. English

Table of contents

Title page

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ASTREA. Volumne III. BOOK I.

The Hiſtory of Dorinde, King Gondebaut, and of the Prince Sigiſmond.

The Sequel of the Hiſtory of DORINDE.

The Hiſtory of ALCANDER, AMILCAR, CERCINEA, PALANICE, and FLORICE.

The Hiſtory of ROSANIRA, CELIODANTE and ROSILION.

The Sequell of the Hiſtory of LIGDAMON.

The Sequel of the Hiſtory of DORINDE and Prince SIGISMOND.

The ſequel of the Hiſtory of LIDIAS.

The ſequel of the Hiſtory of MELANDER.

The ſequel of the Hiſtory of LIPANDAS.

The Sequel of the Hiſtory of LIPANDAS, AMERINA, MELANDRE, and LIDIAS.

The Sequel of the Hiſtory of CHILDERICK, of SILVIANA and of ANDRIMARTES.

The Sequel of the Hiſtory of CERCINEA, PALANICE, and FLORICE.

The Sequel of the Hiſtory of ADRASTES.

The Sequel of the Hiſtory of EUDOXE, of URSACES, and of OLIMBRES.

The Sequell of the Hiſtory of TIRCIS, and LAONICE.

The Hiſtory of OLICARSIS and AZAHIDES.

The Sequell of DORINDES Hiſtory.

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THE THIRD AND Laſt Volume OF ASTREA A ROMANCE WRITTEN IN FRENCH BY Meſsire Honorè D' Ʋrfe; AND TRANSLATED BY A Perſon of Quality.

LONDON, Printed for Hum: Moſeley, Tho. Dring, and H. Herringman, and are to be ſold in S. Pauls Church-yard, Fleetſtreet, and in the lower walk in the New Exchange, 1658.

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Reader,

YOu have in the Epiſtles to the firſt and ſecond Volumes of Aſtrea, the deſign and tendency, as alſo the advantages of it, & of works of its nature I mean Romances) 'T will therefore be unneceſſary to uſe repetition thereof: This enſuing (being the continuation and concluſion of the work) expoſeth it ſelf to publick view, as neceſſary to the compleating of its Individuum. I can believe it will meet with ſuch only, who prefer and induſtrious and ſtrict Scrutiny, before a ſuperficial and eaſie Cenſuring; ſuch I am ſure are nearest the confines of Reaſon and Civility. The floridneſs of its Diſcourſes will Apologize for your pains in reading, and its price in your purchaſing. Nor needs it other Complement to indulge and ingratiate, then its own ſuavity, which being deguſted, will delight the pallate of the candid and ingenuous, for whom it is accommodated.

ASTREA.
Volumne III. BOOK I.

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DORINDE and all thoſe that accompanyed her unto Marſelles, as ſoon as Supper was ended, were conducted unto their Chambers by Clindor and Leontidas; the time of the night, and their wearied Limbs, inviting them thereunto: But before they parted, it was reſolved amongſt them, that Periander, and Merindor ſhould preſent themſelves unto the grand Druide in the morning, and beſeech him that he would preſent them unto the Nymph; conceiving the protection which they deſir'd to be ſo juſt, as he would willingly mediate in their behalf: And afterwards, if the Nymph thought good, Dorinde would acquaint her with the cauſe of their voyage.

This courſe being reſolved upon, every one retired into the Chambers which were prepared for them: Dorinde, Florice, Palanice, and Circenea, would needs lie all together; and Dorinde who was full of perplexities, not being able to take any reſt, ſhe kept all her companions awake by asking a thouſand Queſtions; at laſt Florice asked her this Queſtion: Coſin (ſaid ſhe) from whence do you conceive King Gondebaut's deſire of getting you into his hands, doth proceed? For truly we do not know of any intereſt that he has in you: Oh Florice! (anſwered Dorinde and ſighed) did you but know my miſerable fortune, you would never have asked this queſtion: I had begun to relate it unto you, but the ſurpriſal of Gondebauts men interrupted me; but let me tell you, I am ſure that this Country never produced a more unfortunate woman than Dorinde is. I conceive it very neceſſary (ſaid Palanice) that your friends ſhould be acquainted with the ſtate of your fortune, that they may contribute their aſſiſtance for your preſervation. Alaſs (ſaid Dorinde with tears in her eyes) had I not ſome hope in the Juſtice of Heaven, I ſhould never expect any help: And yet (ſaid Circeusa) you ought to help your ſelf as much as you can; for the Gods do beſtow Prudence unto men to help themſelves in ſuch occaſions: and they will aſſiſt ſuch as through courage toward themſelves againſt the blows of fortune, either by prudence or ſtrength; Therefore (ſaid Florice) it is very requiſite we be acquainted with the ſtate of your fortune, that we joyning our aſſiſtance unto yours, we may be the better able to adviſe you, and you alſo better enabled to make uſe of us: for beleeve me Cofin, two eyes ſee more then one; and I conceive we cannot have a fitter opportunity of privacy then this, for perhaps your ſtory contains many paſſages nor fit to be publiſhed, and now all ears are aſleep but ours. Dorinde, who ſaw a neceſſity of acquainting them with her Story, and that a better opportunity could not be then this; She began thus,

The Hiſtory of Dorinde, King Gondebaut, and of the Prince Sigiſmond.

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SOme are ſuch Favorites of Heaven (my dear companions) that their happineſs doth tranſcend even their very deſires; Some, on the contrary, ſo hated by fortune, as ſhe doth blaſt them with greater diſaſters, then are imaginable. I may, with too much reaſon, rank my ſelf among the laſt of theſe; for my misfortunes are much beyond my imagination, and of worſer ſtrain then any other had: And yet, (as I hope you will judge by the relation of my ſad ſtory) I am not in any fault, unleſs in that I do not put a period to my days by ſome violent act.

Perhaps (my kind companions) you know as well as I, That Gondebaut had three brothers; to wit, Chilperick, Godamar, and Godegeſeles, of whom none remains but Godegeſiles the youngeſt, Lord of the higher Burgundy. For the other two, having gathered together a great body of Germans poſſeſſed themſelves of the Kingdom, by winning of a battle which was fought in the fields of Authuno [...]s, which Gondebaut and the young Godoge les loſt: Theſe two young ones thinking themſelves now to be Kings, and all quiet in the ſtate, they ſent away their Auxialiary Troops beyond the Rhine: Gondebaut ſeeing them to be diſarmed, and living ſecurely without any ſuſpition of h [...]m whom they thought to be dead he preſently ra [...]ied together all his forces, and be ſieged them in Vienna, & preſſed ſo hard upon them, as he forced the Inhabitants to render the Town and Chilperick into his hands, whoſe head he chopped off the ſame hour he entred the Town: he threw his Wife into the Roſne, with a great ſtone about her neck; and afterwards burned Godomar in a Tower unto which he was retreated Chilperick left two Daughters; the elder called Mu [...]utuna and the other Clotilda, both ſo young, that the innocency of their age obtained their pardon for the offence of the father; And yet Mutucana was preſently after by the Kings command, placed amongſt the Veſtals, there to paſs away a retired and ſolitary life. As for Clotilda, her beauty and diſcretion was ſuch, as got her the eſteem of all, particularly of the King, who loved her as his own child; Sigiſmond his Son was not dearer unto him then this fair Princeſs. This Prince had marryed [...]m [...]lberge, the Daughter of Thierry, King of the [...]ſtrog [...]tt; by whom (though they lived but a little while together, for ſhe dyed ſhortly after) he had yet a Son and Daughter: The Son named Sigerius, and the Daughter Amaſinda. I do revive your memory of theſe things leaſt perhaps you ſhould have forgotten them; for the memory of them is very neceſſary and pertinent unto what I am to tell you.

Now, King Gondebaut after many Conqueſts beyond the Alpes, and Victories over the Gallo L [...]gurians, and other Nations, thinking he might very well devote ſome, days unto Sports and Paſtimes, he reſolved to ſhew the grandure of his Majeſty as well in Courtly exerciſes, as he had in Martial exploits.

In order to this deſign, he made choice of the great and rich City of Lions, where he proclaimed open houſe: Prepared ſo many Maſques, Tiltings, Tourneme [...]ts, and Skirmiſhes upon the water, that the magnificence of them did aſtoniſh all thoſe who out of curioſity came to behold them. He having been long a Widdower, and the Princeſs Amalberge, wife unto the Prince Sigiſmond dead two years ago, there was no Ladies that lay in the Palace Royal: But the more to illuſtrate this Aſſemb;ly, he ſent for the young Princeſs Clotilda from Viennae, where ſhe had been educated ſince the death of Chilperick her father; As for Amaſinda, the Daughter of Sigiſmond, ſhe was yet in the Armes of her Nurſe; Sigerius, her elder Brother, being not above four years of age. When Clotilda came into the preſence of Gondebaut, ſhe carryed her ſelf ſo prudently and ſweetly, and appeared ſo fair in the eyes of all, as the Kings good will towards her was much encreaſed, [Page] and as if he had forgotten ſhe was the child of Chilperick, he made no difference betwixt her and his own child. It is worth obſervance, that his equal affection unto Sigiſmond and Clotilda, in lieu of kindling any ſparks of envy or jealouſie betwixt them (as is very uſual in perſons of that age) it produced quite contrary effects in them, and tyed them together in faſt knots of amity, not inferiour unto any ligaments of conſaguinity whatſoever.

When Clotilda was come and her lodgings prepared for her, the Court appeared in greater luſter: for Gondebaut had preferred unto her ſervice twelve young Ladies, the principal of all his Kingdom, called out amongſt the faireſt, and beſt qualified in all his Dominions; It was my hap to be one of this number, choſen not for any manner of merit in me, but rather for the place ſake where I was born, or indeed rather to give fortune, an occaſion of afflicting and perſecuting me the more.

I thought that now I was quite rid of the importunities of Periander, by reaſon of his levity; of Bellimartes, by reaſon of his falſhood: and of Merindor, by reaſon of his preferring his brother in his room. But I found, that as ſoon as the deformity of my face was with time vaniſhed away, Periander was as buſſie as ever about me: and as if he had been only aſleep all the time of my ſickneſs, will needs have me believe that he was ever my ſervant, uſing all his arguments and rethorique to gloſſe over his levity, and ſparing no manner of oath and proteſtation to purchaſe belief. On the other ſide, to my miſery, Alderina chanced to dye, leaving the falſe Bellimartes at liberty to perſecute me. And to make me moſt perfectly miſerable, Merindor did the like; as if he had drunk of the water of oblivion, and would have me pledge him, he accoſted me with a ſmiling look, ſeeming to wonder I ſhould not be as free with him as I was wont to be before his treaſon, and making horrible complaints againſt my wavering and unequal humour. Oh Heavens! was ever ſuch impudence heard of? eſpecially Merindors: As for Periander, though he did quit me, yet it was after my diſeaſe had made me ugly; and if he did return, when my diſeaſe was over, he was in ſome ſort excuſable, becauſe it was never me that he loved, but that fading thing which the world cals beauty, ſo as this is ſome kind of excuſe for him. As for Bellimartes although he did commit a moſt groſſe fault, yet I can find ſome excuſe for him; for though he was married, yet it was his love and eſteem of me which prompted him to marry me, But for Merindor, I cannot find any collour of excuſe for him, but only that he is a man; and being ſo, he is allowed to be inconſtant and falſe. Yet I muſt needs confeſſe, I am moſt ſenſible of his diſloyalty, becauſe he had leaſt reaſon for what he did, and I a greater inclination unto him then any other.

During the time of theſe Baccanalian Feaſtes, it hapned that the King one day after he had delighted the Princeſſe Clotilda, and the Ladies with ſeveral ſhews, they went all to walk in the Athenian Gardens, where the Roſne and the Arar meeting, there is a moſt dilectable Iſle betwixt two great Rivers, which ſeveral Kings have imbelliſhed with abundance of Art: planting it with trees, and adorning it with magnificient Fountains, Walks, Turraſſes, and Arbors, which being contrived with excellent deſign; and order out of ſo much confuſion, does ſtill take the eye of the walker with ſomthing of novelty and wonder. But indeed at that time, the trees were not decked in their mantles of green, nor caſt of their gray garments of winter. Yet the King, to ſupply that defect; brought forth abundance of Orange Trees, which he had preſerved in vaultes from the ſtorms of Froſt and Snow, and planted them in ſuch induſtrious order, as it ſeemed as if the Summer had preceded the Spring.

It was at this time, and in this place, when and where Periander, Bellimartes, and Merindor, intended to renew their importunities: Periander who firſt proved falſe, was the firſt alſo that accoſted me with this language. This, faireſt Dorinde, is the day of your Triumph and Victories, for which way ſoever you caſt your eye, you cannot ſee any thing which does not yeild and ſubmit unto your beauty. I looked coldly upon him, and then without any anſwer turned the other way, and continued my walk with my Companions. But he, nothing daunted at my cold looks, followed, and taking hold of my Gown; what fair one? ſaid he [Page] unto me) not one word by way of anſwer? Is it unto me (anſwered I very diſdaignfully) that you ſpeak? Can you doubt it (replied he) ſince I called you by the Epithite which is moſt your due? How did you call me (ſaid I unto him) I called you, ſaid he, by your own right name; did you not hear me call you fair Dorinde? I know none of that name, replied I; for do you not remember that ſhe dyed of the ſmal Pox. At this he bluſht, yet anſwered; yes, yes, but ſhe is riſen again: I cannot tell, anſwered I, whether ſhe be riſen as to others, but I aſſure you, ſhe is for ever dead as to you: After this, ſay what he would, I would not turn any longer towards him. Then Bellimartes, ſeeing his Companion diſengaged, he accoſted me, and would needs take me under the arm: but I faigning that I had not yet ſeen him, I looked him ſtedfaſtly in the face, and ſaid unto him, Sir, Alderina whom you look for is not here: Alderina (anſwered he) was once the cauſe of my miſery, and now ſhe is dead, her memory I hope will not be as fatal to me as ſhe was. The Gods are ſo full of all goodneſs, anſwered I, as that they can make the happineſs of one out of the miſery of another: and this miſery of which you complain was my happineſs; So as I ſhould be very ungrateful if I ſhould loſe the memory of it. But in good earneſt, ſaid he, I hope you do know that Alderina is dead, and that ſhe will never trouble either you or me. Bellimartes, anſwered I very faintly, be moſt confident of this that though Alderina be dead, yet I ſhall never be inclinable to marry you, leaſt I ſhould be the Alderina of ſome other Dorinde. Upon this Bellimartes left me, as much aſhamed as Periander was, and Merindor immediately ſtept into his place: and I moſt ingeniouſly confeſs, as I told you before, that I was more offended againſt him then all the reſt. Madam (ſaid he unto me after a low conge) thanks be to the fates, I am now ſuch an abſolute maſter of my ſelf, as that I am able to aſſure you I am your moſt humbly devoted ſervant. Merindor, anſwered I, is this the language which you taught your brother when you ſent him unto me? Oh fair Dorinde (anſwered he immediately) when I wiſhed that happineſs unto my brother, it was when I could not render you a greater teſtimony of my affection: but now I am free, I ſpeak unto you in the behalf of Merindor, who ſtill loves and adores you, and ever ſhall; Theſe expreſſions Merindor, ſaid I unto him in a little impatiency, might well deceive any other but Dorinde; and yet truly becauſe I would be not be ungratefull, if I had a ſiſter I would adviſe her to accept of your good will: but as for me, never think any more of it; for I was told by a very good Aſtrologer that your marriage and mine together was never made in Heaven. Then turning away towards my Companions, and declining any further talk with them, we began to dance after the Gauliſh mode. Many Caveliers of the Court did hear all our diſcourſe, and what anſwers I gave unto them: and as there are alwayes ſome whoſe practice is to carry tales unto the King, thereby to inſinuate themſelves into favour, ſo ſome pick-thank, or other acquainted the King immediately with all my anſwers; The King who was much taken with them told them again unto ſeveral perſons, laughing at theſe three Cavaliers. But ſee if I had not good reaſons to ſay that fortune which makes ſome happy beyond their deſires, did make me more miſerable then I could imagine; for who would ever have thought that theſe reproaches which I gave unto theſe impudent men, ſhould have coſt me ſo much miſery as I have endured? And yet ſo it hapned that the King being pleaſed with them, and hearing what great affection thoſe three Cavaliers did bear unto me, he began to entertain ſome good opinion of me, and from that day to this would never let me live in quietneſſe. Oh Heavens! how dear did his favours a while after, coſt me? For, I cannot tell upon what reaſon, but the King, to my miſery, took a liking unto me: and I do proteſt, I never took any notice of it until it was too late be remedied.

Though Heaven has elevated great Princes much higher then thoſe over whom they command: yet they do want that liberty which private perſons do enjoy; for even as high Towers are ſeen farther then the humble Cottages of Shepherds; ſo the grandure of Kings is ſo obvious unto all eyes, that they cannot ſtir a ſtep but they are ſeen by all, and the very leaſt of their actions is ſubject unto the cenſure of [...]hn multitude; and therefore it is a thing impoſſible that a Lady ſhould be [Page] courted by them, but all the Court moſt preſently perceive it. Gondebaut who knew this very well, and being deſirous to apply ſome remedy unto it, (for he knew that if he did not, Arcingeutorix, and the reſt of my kindred would be offended; and that the Princeſſe Clotilda would have a juſt cauſe of complaint) and therefore his deſign was to carry this courtſhip as covertly as he could, and with ſuch cloſe circumſpection, as ſhould delude the eyes of the moſt clear ſighted. As for me, I was altogether ignorant of the Kings deſign, and minded nothing but my attendance upon that wiſe Princeſſe endeavoring by my ſervice to gain her favour; and I found by many of her noble expreſſions to me that my endeavours were not in vain; which was ſuch a high contentment unto me as every one might ſee it in my face; ſo as I found the Proverb to be true, which ſayes, that contentment is the beſt painting; and truly me thought, that I had quite another kind of a face, and was not as I was wont to be: Alſo my judgment in this was not ſingular; for all my Companions thought ſo as well as I, even the prudent Princeſſe her ſelf whoſe kindneſſe unto me was the principal cauſe of it.

The King whoſe deſign was to render me miſerable, was very ſtudious how to acquaint me with his intention, and was a long while before he could tell which way he ſhould begin the work; for ſeeing me to very young, he could not tell whether I had ſo much government over my ſelf as to keep ſecret. But one night when we were all dancing, and when, according to the cuſtome, they ſtole her away which danced, the King in his turn, came towards me; and as ſoon as he touched my hand, he ſaid unto me, I ſhould think my ſelf more happy if I could ſteal away this treaſure, then I am in the conqueſt of all Gaule. Unto which I ſmiled and anſwered, the theft Sir which you are pleaſed to mention, is exceedingly ſmall, eſpecially compared unto ſo great an Empire. If this which you eſteem ſo trivial (ſaid he unto me, and graſped my hand) could be as ſoon atchieved, as I could conquer all Gaul, I would this very hour put on my Armor, and never put it off until I had made an abſolute conqueſt. Upon this, not ſtaying for my anſwer, he paſſed on to another. I muſt needs confeſſe, that I was much ſurpriſed at this expreſſion; but not being able to perſwade my ſelf that there was any thing in me that was worthy either of the eye or thought of a King, I believed it to be his cuſtome of ſpeaking ſo unto all, and only to paſſe away time: ſo as in this belief, I grounded nothing upon thoſe words.

The King in the mean time, who was very obſervant to ſee how I would take this expreſſion; hearing no more talk of it, he thought me to have more judgment, then thoſe of my age uſe to have: and as it is common with Lovers to Flatter themſelves, ſo he perſwaded himſelf, that the knowledge which he had imparted unto me of his good will, was not diſpleaſing unto me. And therefore growing more confident in my diſcretion, and more encouraged to diſcover himſelf: one day when we were all in the Athenian Gardens, and when my Companions were a little ſeperated from me, as I was reaching at a flower which grew upon a tree that was a little too high for my arm, he left the Princeſſe walking and came and pulled the flower; here fair one, (ſaid he and gave it unto me) take this flower as a pledge of my heart which I have already given unto you: then he went preſently to the Princeſſe again. I muſt needs confeſſe that this ſecond declaration did open my eyes; but yet I thought it a thing ſo impoſſible that the King ſhould ever have any thoughts of me, as I ſtill remained in my blindneſſe and would take no notice of it, nor mention it unto any. The King finding by theſe two teſtimonies that I could keep ſecret, he thought it now high time to truſt himſelf wholly unto my diſcretion: ſo as a while after, when the Princeſſe Clotilda was making preparations to diſguiſe herſelf, and to dance in the habit of the Druyde and Nayade Nimphs, he was very deſirous to ſee how ſhe dreſſed her ſelf: ſo as he came unto her all alone by himſelf, and firſt of all began to commend Clotilda very highly, who indeed was a Princeſſe of moſt rare beauty as well of mind as of body: then he ſeemed deſirous to ſee us all; and when he ſaw all very buſie in triming up themſelves, he came unto me, and ſaid in a low voice, as for you fair one, your beauty is ſo tranſcendent, that nothing can either be added or diminiſhed without doing you wrong. Shame would not permit [Page] me to return an anſwer: and he perceiving it by the bluſhes of my cheek: If you be as diſcreet for the future (ſaid he) as you have been hitherto, I will make you the greateſt and moſt happy of all your family; upon this he put a note into my boſome upon ſuch a ſuddain, that if I had not felt it, perhaps I had never taken any notice of it.

This brought bluſhes into my face as red as if my cheeks were all on fire; and a thouſand to one, but it had been perceived: yet all my Companions were ſo buſie in tricking up themſelves, as they never ſaw when the King went out; and from that day I never doubted what the deſign of Gonbebaut was, though till then, I muſt ingeniouſly confeſſe that I could not imagine his meaning. My knowledge of this did not perplex me ſo much as did my ignorance; not knowing how to carry my ſelf in a buſineſſe of that concernment. For I thought it a crime in me to hide it from the Princeſſe Clotilda: and to acquaint her was the way to make Gondebaut my foe, and make that Princeſſe much offended at him. On the other ſide, I knew that all men were falſe, and the experience which I had of it, was freſh in my memory. Beſides all theſe conſiderations, could I ever imagine the King did court me to any other end but to ſtain my honour? This conſideration touched me ſo neerly, that I once intended to go that very hour unto Clotil [...]a, and ſhew her the Letter which he had put into my breſt: but then conſidering how extreamly it would perplex that Princeſſe, and how it would diſturb all the Jocundry of the Bacchanals▪ I deferred it until the Feaſt was over, and then intended to acquaint Clotilda with it, who honouring me with her favours, would give me the beſt advice ſhe could. And leaſt the Paper which the King had put into my boſome ſhould chance to be loſt, and ſo ſeen by ſome or other. I went to lock it up in a little box where I uſed to keep ſuch things. When I returned, I found all my Companions almoſt all ready to dance; and the Princeſſe ſeeing me ſo backward, ſhe called me ſluggard, and honoured me ſo far as to help me her ſelf to dreſſe my ſelf.

The King in the mean time, whoſe love was like unto all the reſt of his ſex, who are alwa [...]es at the firſt full of raptures and impatienties, his mind was wholly upon this paſſion, which did encreaſe by my ſilence: This ſwelled him with a thouſand chimeras and fancies how he ſhould contrive the buſineſſe. And at laſt returning one night very late from the ball, and when all were retired from him, after they had gotten him to bed, he called unto one that waited upon him in his chamber, and one whom he uſed to truſt in ſuch like occaſions. He cauſed him to kneel down by his bed ſide; acquainted him with his extream affection unto me; and commanded him upon his life to keep it ſecret, and to contrive a means for his contentment. The young man, who was accuſtomed unto ſuch diſcourſe, did not at all wonder at the violency of his paſſion; for not long be ore he had ſeen him as hot upon Cryſeide; Sir, ſaid he unto the King) this Lady has been courted already by very many, and has been deceived b [...] them all, ſo as ſhe will hardly ever truſt any again. The King, according to the Nature of all Lovers, did flatter himſelf with a conceit that I had ſome good will towards him; and therefore anſwered him very confidently, that he himſelf had already broken the Ice, that I knew he loved me, and perhaps bore no ill will unto him: but all the difficulty was to find out a truſty confident▪ by whoſe means he might let me underſtand all that he de [...]red I ſhould know: for there was ſo many eyes upon him that he could not ſpeak unto me but by ſhort and interrupted ſentences, leaſt Clotilda or ſome of my Companions ſhould obſerve him; that this fear kept me from returning unto him any anſwers, and him from coming unto any concluſion with me; and therefore he propounded unto him whether it was expedient to imploy Periander, Bellimartes, or Merindor in the buſineſſe, who might without any ſuſpition talk with me as long as they pleaſed: for though they were in love with me, yet he knew they durſt not contradict what he commanded them. Ardilan (for that was the name of the young man) after a ſilent hearing of all this, anſwered thus; I have heard Sir, all that you have been pleaſed to tell me, and have thought upon a courſe, by which I hope you may effect your deſires. Firſt, I do not like you ſhould imploy any of theſe three Cavaliers whom you have propoſed, and that [Page] for ſeveral reaſons: for though they be all in love with her, and would marry her and dare not diſobay your commands, yet you may be pleaſed to conſider, that Dorinde will never truſt them; they have already deceived her; ſhe hates them, and therefore ſhe will not confide in any thing they ſay: the only way to marr all, were to put it unto any one of their management; I have heard ſay, that if one would obtain any favour from another, it muſt be asked by one who is in favour with that party: but thoſe whom you have mentioned are her enemies, or at leaſt, ſhe thinks them ſo, and has found them all to be falſe unto her. Whatſoever you do, you muſt not imploy any of them in the enterpriſe: Next, you muſt be ſure you never ſpeak unto her in any place where you may be ſeen; for if you do, then the jealouſie, or rather the envy of her Companions, will make ſuch a noiſe of it in the Court, that you will be conſtrained upon a thouſand conſiderations, to make a retreat. But the only way is to gain one that is frequent and familiar about her perſon; one that ſhe dares truſt: and I cannot think upon any more fit for the buſineſſe then that maid who waites upon her in her chamber; for ſhe has the opportunity of talking unto her at all times when ſhe pleaſe: and moreover Dorinde having a great confidence in her, ſhe may the ſooner be perſwaded unto what you deſire: and becauſe the greateſt difficulty is to gain her whom I ſpeak off, I have contrived a way to bring it about; you muſt Sir, in the firſt place dazle her eys with that mettle which very few have power to reſiſt▪ next, I am reſolved to make her believe that I am in love with her, and that I will marry her; ſhe is tollerably handſome, and will be apt to believe it: for almoſt all women will hearken unto any commendations of their beauty and credit it: and by theſe two wayes I intend to make my acceſſe unto her.

The King hearing the Propoſition of Ardilan, did like it, and think it feaſable and eaſie: ſo, as if he had already obtained what he deſired, he raiſed himſelf out of bed and embraced him ſaying thus unto him; I ſee Ardilan that thou doſt love me, and that without thee I ſhall never arrive at my contentment; aſſure thy ſelf thy ſervices ſhall find an ample recompence; as I have one, the beſt of ſervants, ſo thou ſhalt find me the beſt of Maſters: Then lying down in his bed, go friend (ſaid he unto him) contrive the buſineſs as thou wilt; I referre it wholly unto thee, and to morrow I ſhall furniſh thee with whatſoever thou ſhalt think fit for Dorindes Chamber-maid.

The next morning Ardilan being furniſhed with all that was requiſite, he ſought for an opportunity of ſpeech with Duriana (for that was the name of her that ſerved me) and becauſe it was a ſeaſon when every one ſeemed to be out of their wits, and a time when to be wiſe ſeemed to be a kind of folly, he met with an opportunity preſently; for that night he and ſome young men of his pack dreſſed themſelves in the habits of women, and came unto my Fathers houſe, under the notion of Mummers, as they are called.

It is the cuſtome of the place, and I think of all Gaul, for theſe Mummers in vizards, to enter freely into all houſes, none asking the queſtion who they are, or from whence they came: preſently they did lay upon the table a Bag of Money, which they intended to venture at play; and what they do they do all in ſilence: for if they ſpeak one word, they loſe all they play for: Ardilan having thus entred into my Fathers houſe, one of his company who took upon him to play, laid down his mony and dice upon the table, and ſeveral Cavaliers who ſupped that night with my Father, began to play with him: In the mean time Ardilan walked half a dozen turns up and down the great chamber, looking whether Duriana was there; and at laſt, he found her dancing amongſt others in another room: after a while, he thruſt himſelf amongſt them, and taking her by the hand made one with them in the dance; and becauſe he danced extraordinarily well, he drew the eyes of all the company upon him, eſpecially Duriana, who was extreamly deſirous to know who he was. The dance being done, and ſhe thinking him to be a woman, ſhe ſate down by him, and put a thouſand queſtions to him, purpoſely to make him ſpeak. As long as any was ſo near as to hear, he made no anſwers but only by ſigns, but when all the company was parted from her, he took Duriana by the hand, and ſaid unto her in a low voice; it is very [Page] ſtrange Duriana you ſhould not know that perſon who loves you above all the world. She who had little or no acquaintance with him, and perhaps had never heard him ſpeak before, ſhe did a little wonder at his words, and not knowing his voice, ſhe was more inquiſitive then ſhe was before, I beſeech you (ſaid ſhe unto him) if you do love me ſo well as you ſay you do, why will you not let me know who you are? Becauſe (ſaid he) I am of ſo little worth, that when you know me I am afraid you will ſcorn me: I do not uſe, anſwered ſhe, to be ſo uncivil as to ſcorn any who are owners of ſo much merit, as I ſee you are: upon this aſſurance, replied he, I will tell you that I am Ardilan, who ever ſince your Miſtris came to Court, is ſo wholly devoted unto your ſervice as I cannot enjoy any contentment unleſs my vowed ſervice find ſome acceptance. But why ſhould I trifle away time in relation of ſuch things as theſe? It is enough to tell you, that before they parted, Duriana who thought all in earneſt, and that it would be a match very advantagious to her, ſhe was contented to accept of his ſervice, upon condition he would not deceive her, as ſhe had ſeen many deceive me. The ſubtile Ardilan vowed and proteſted fidellity; and gave her ſo many aſſurances of it▪ as ſhe who had no more wit then ſhe ſtood in need of, was won to do whatſoever he would have her: and the more to engage her, he gave her a Ring, and beſeeched her to wear it for his ſake; at the firſt ſhe refuſed it, becauſe ſhe thought it to be of too great value. But he was ſo urgent with her, that at laſt ſhe took it, upon condition I ſhould not diſlike it. Fye, fye, ſaid the crafty Ardilan, nothing does more ruine Loves then divulging them; and if you be pleaſed that you and I ſhould continue kind, as I do heartly deſire. ſpeak not a word of it unto any; for if you do aſſure your ſelf, ſome or other out of envy will ruine our deſigns. But if my Miſtris ſhould be advertiſed of it by another (ſaid Duriana) would ſhe not have reaſon to be angry and chide me? Oh my Sweetheart (anſwered Ardilan) how can ſhe ever come to know it by any other, if you never ſpeak of it unto any? For my part, I will ſet a lock upon my lips, and I beſeech you to do the like upon yours, eſpecially from Dorinde; why ſhould you acquaint her? Alas Duriana ſhe ſtands more in need of your adviſe, then you of hers▪ and had ſhe been as wiſe as Duriana is, ſhe had never received ſo many diſpleaſures as ſhe has, I am afraid we ſhould be too much obſerved, and therefore I cannot now ſay all I would; the next time we meet, I ſhall tell you more, and plainly ſhew you that Dorindes diſpleaſures proceed from her ſelf, and perhaps may be remedied, if ſhe will but believe you. Upon this, he left her, and would not ſtay for her anſwer, being very glad, and thinking he had done more for the firſt time, then ever he could have hoped.

Some two or three dayes after Ardilan had talked with Duriana, my good genius put me in mind of the danger that might enſue by keeping the paper, which the King gave me, any longer, I was in two or three minds, and ready to caſt it into the fire, ſo to extinguiſh one flame with another; or elſe to carry it unto Clotilda, and ſo diſcharge my ſelf of that blame which might be imputed unto me. But as to the firſt courſe, I thought that if I did burn it, then if the King ſhould come to know it, he would be extreamly offended at this ſcorn: and how could I anſwer him, if he asked me my reaſon for it? I thought it therefore better to read it firſt, and then to burn it: but then, if Clotilda ſhould come to know of this▪ either by the King or any other, how unkindly would ſhe take this from me? Queſtionleſſe Gondebaut himſelf would be the firſt that would tell her, when he ſees I will not conſent unto all that pleaſeth him; or if he ſhould alter his humour; as to my ſad experience, I find Merindor and Periander hath done; their examples teach me at a dear rate, that the conſtancy of a man, laſts no longer then till his eyes finds an object that pleaſeth him better. This Princeſſe (ſaid I to my ſelf) does me the honour to love me, and I am moſt confident of her good advice; and ſay the King ſhould come to know that I have acquainted her, he cannot chuſe but know withal, that my duty obliged me unto what I did; and I am very confident that when the heat of the humour is a little over, he will eſteem me more for it, and ſay I did well.

According to this laſt reſolution, I took the Letter and went unto Clotilda [Page] and as fortune was, found her in her Cloſſet, paſſing away the time with many of my Companions. And becauſe ſhe honoured me ſo far as to love me above any of the reſt, as ſoon as ſhe ſaw me ſhe was pleaſed to come unto me; and becauſe all young perſons have alwayes ſome trivial news to tell one another, ſhe took me aſide unto a window of a little diſtance from the reſt of the company, where ſhe related unto me not only all ſhe had done ſince the laſt time ſhe ſaw me, but alſo, all her moſt intimate thoughts: at laſt ſhe ſaid unto me, but good Dorinde tell me what you have done ſince laſt you were with me; come, come, give me an exact accompt not only of your actions, but even of every thought. Madam, (ſaid I unto her) at another time I ſhall moſt willingly tell you what you pleaſe; but at this time, I beſeech you give me leave to intertain you with a buſineſſe of a very great importance; and becauſe I would not have any obſerve us, I beſeech you go into your Inner Cloſſet, and call me unto you, that when we are alone, I may impart a buſineſſe unto you, which is fit you ſhould know. The young Princeſſe longing to know what I had to tell her, and being alſo very deſirous to give me contentment, ſhe did as I deſired her; and when we were both in the Cloſſet, the door bolted, ſhe ſat down, and I according to my cuſtome, kneeled down before her, moſt humbly beſeeching her to think, that my deſire of keeping my ſelf within the compaſſe of my duty, and to carry my ſelf in all things according to her commands, did prompt me to impart unto her what I then would; then I did not only ſhew her the Kings Letter, but alſo imparted unto her all the paſſages of my three laſt encounters with Gondibaut [...], which I did with that freedom, as ſhe knew me to be in no fault. eſpecially when ſhe ſaw the Letter ſtill ſealed, which after much commendations of me for it, ſhe opened, and read theſe words.

King GONDEBAUTS Letter unto DORINDE.

YOu cannot, Faireſt, think it ſtrange that one ſhould love you, ſince you have already been loved by ſo many; but perhaps you will wonder when you conſider that he whom you have captivated, was never conquered by the moſt powerful upon earth. As there hath been nothing hitherto invincible unto my arms, ſo, Faireſt, uſe your conqueſt kindly, for unto you, I ſubmit my Crown, my Scepter, and all my Triumphs and Laurels.

Clotilda, ſtood mute, after the reading of this Letter; and after ſhe had long pawſed upon it, Dorinde (ſaid ſhe unto me) you need not entreat me to conceal a buſineſſe, which is ſo unfit to be publiſhed: and becauſe you deſire my advice, and I am obliged to give it, not at random, but upon mature deliberation, I will take this night to conſider upon it. Thus we parted; and becauſe none of my Companions ſhould ſuſpect any matter of ſecreſie to be betwixt us, the wiſe Princeſſe went out laughing, and commanded me to do the like, as if we had been talking upon matter of mirth and jollity. You know, that the Prince Godomar, younger brother unto Sigiſmond, went to travel into the Courts of Neighbour Kings, there to learn the Cuſtoms, Laws, and Manners of other Countries; to be acquainted with their Countries and ſtrength, and the better to improve himſelf in his travels, he carried with him the great and wiſe Avitus, who had been Governour, not only unto him, but to his brother Sigiſmond alſo. Now this young Prince was lately returned to the great contentment both of King and people; for truly both Sigiſmond and Gondemar being inſtructed by ſuch a Sapient Tutor, wer [...] both very hopeful. This prudent Governour, above all other documents, did moſt imprint amity and concord betwixt them; ſhewing them that little [Page] things grow great by union; and great things become nothing by diſcord; he hinted unto them, the jars betwixt their father and his brothers, how their ambition and emnity did draw upon themſelves the odium of the Gaules, and their own ruine: that this wound would be long in healing in their family, unleſſe they with a contrary deſign did remedy it, to wit, by mutual love, as the others did make the wound by hatred. Theſe ſage inſtructions, imprinted themſelves ſo upon the ſpirits of theſe two young Princes, that a greater league of Love and Union cannot be imagined then was betwixt them.

This wiſe man finding by the phiſiognomy of Clotilda, that ſhe would prove a moſt Excellent and Wiſe Princeſſe; he thought it would be advantagious unto theſe two Princes to contract a league of amity with her: for conſanguinity was not enough to ſalve up thoſe ſores which former diſſentions had made. This wiſe adviſe, together with the ſweet inclination of Clotilda, did make theſe two Princes ſo exceedingly love her, that all the animoſities of their fathers hatred were not only rooted out, but theſe young hearts did link themſelves together in ſuch ſtrong tyes of affection, as each of them had as kind a care of the others good as of their own: nothing was in ſecret amongſt them: and knowing the humour of Gondebaut to be collerick and violent, they after conſulted together what was the beſt courſe to be taken in any affair, and above all, they followed the Prudent advice of their wiſe Governour. And yet, as there is often a certain kind of blind inclination which moves ſome to affect one perſon above another, ſo this Princeſſe had ever a kind of natural affection more towards the Prince Sigiſmond, than towards his brother Godomar: and this was the reaſon that at this time ſhe acquainted him only with my buſineſſe; ſhe related the whole paſſage unto him, ſhewed him the Kings Letter, and asked him what ſhe ſhould ſay unto me and what ſhe ſhould do. Sigiſmond was at the firſt extreamly aſtoniſhed; afterward he asked her, how ſhe came to know the buſineſſe, and how I carried my ſelf in it; to whom the Princeſſe anſwered, Dorinde carries her ſelf as ſhe ought to do, and will not do any thing without my advice; for it was from her I came to know the buſineſſe.

Now, obſerve, I beſeech you, how dangerous it is to acquaint young men with ſuch matters; Sigiſmond had never caſt his eyes upon me but only by way of indifferency, as upon the reſt of my Companions, had it not been for this. But dear Companions, well may we ſay ſome are happy beyond their hopes, and others more unfortunate then they could imagine: and I am one of thoſe whom fortune has made the butt for the worſt of her arrows. Could any ever have imagined, that Clotilda by reprehending the Fathers fault ſhould cauſe the Son to commit it? No certainly, and but my croſs fate muſt needs have it ſo, ſurely it had never been.

Now the deſigns of the young Prince is wholly upon me, and becauſe he did not know whether his addreſſe would be as welcome unto me as his Fathers, he reſolved at the firſt, to hide his affection from Clotilda, knowing very well that ſhe would diſwade him from it if poſſibly ſhe could, and perhaps divert me alſo. But he did extreamly diſapprove of the Kings intention, ſeemed to wonder at it, and to vilifie me in ſuch a manner as if I ſhould be the laſt of all the Court whom he could love. Then turning his diſcourſe upon Gondebaut, ſiſter (ſaid he, for ſo he called her) we muſt upon any terms take ſome courſe or other to prevent this buſineſſe from going any farther; for though Dorinde has hitherto carried her ſelf very well in the matter, yet it is to be feared that a long continuance of Courtſhip may make her change her mind: A place may make a brave reſiſtance to the firſt and ſecond aſſault, yet yeild at the third: beſides, Love you know is a contagious diſeaſe, and infects another party. Truly brother (anſwered the Princeſſe) I am not well acquainted with the nature of that diſeaſe, but adhere much unto your opinion of it, and therefore I deſire your advice. I ſhould be very reſerved in giving it, (anſwered the Prince) as well becauſe it concerns my King, as becauſe that King is my Father, but that the honour of our family, and particularly yours, dear Siſter, is at the ſtake, and therefore I ſhall be the more open and free in giving it. Let me tell you therefore, that conſidering the Kings humour [Page] and diſpoſition, I do foreſee much miſchief may come of this matter, if you if you do not oppoſe in its firſt beginning; and believe this for certain, that when it has once taken root, you can never do it: or if you do, it will be with much heartburning and diſcontent. Let not the diſeaſe gather ſtrength, it is very dangerous in all diſeaſes, but moſt eſpecially in Love, above all others. This is my advice at the firſt: and if we find that the diſeaſe do yet ſtill increaſe, we muſt have recourſe unto other remedies, which time and occaſion may diſcover unto us; but above all things, make ſure that Dorinde do not deceive her ſelf, and that ſhe do not deceive you; for Love is a thing of ſuch a ſubtle nature, as that it does ſeiſe upon a heart unperceived; and if it do ſo in her, aſſure your ſelf Siſter, your labour will be all loſt. Such a thing may be, anſwered the Princeſſe, but I fear it not; for I know Dorinde to be ſo diſcreet and wiſe, that ſhe will never do any act prejudicial unto her ſelf or me.

The next morning, Clotilda took me aſide, and ſaid thus unto me; I have thought Dorinde upon your buſineſſe or indeed ours, for I am concerned it it, and perhaps more then you are. It is a buſineſs wherein you muſt ſhew both your prudence and your courage: your courage, in ſcorning any thing that may wound your reputation, and your prudence, in doing it ſo that the King may not be offended either againſt you, or me. Firſt you muſt conceive, that the King courts you only to ruine you, and that as ſoon as it is known, your honour is loſt; think upon thoſe noble Anceſtors from whom you are deſcended; conſider what abundance of hazard and pains they took in getting that reputation which they left unto their poſterity. I hope you will not be the firſt that for want of courage will ſuffer this anciently deſcended reputation to be ſtayned: as for matter of prudence, you muſt Dorinde fight this enemy, not by ſtriving and contending, but by flying from him; Love is of ſuch a nature as is ſooner overcome by flight. then reſiſtance; and the Love of Kings above all others; for puiſſant Princes are alwayes extreamly offended againſt any thing which does reſiſt them; they are jealous of their power, and will at any rate preſerve it unreſiſtable. I advice you therefore, that in the practice of this prudence, you do not reſiſt, but flye from this enemy; that is, that you ſhun all occaſions of being in any place where Gondebaut may have any diſcourſe with you; and if he chance to find ſuch an opportunity, ſeem as if you did not underſtand what he ſaid; and be ſo far from being perſwaded that he loves you, as to ſeem abſolutely ignorant in all matters of love. If you carry it ſo, perhaps you may divert his intention, or at the leaſt tyer him out: and above all be ſure, that I be advertiſed of all paſſages betwixt you; and be aſſured, that as long as you do ſo, I will never forſake you.

This was the ſage counſel which Clotilda gave me▪ and which I reſolved to follow moſt punctually, as well becauſe of her reaſons which ſhe alledged unto me, as becauſe I had been formerly deceived by ſuch as uſed the ſame language, he did in his Letter. I returned the Princeſſe, moſt humble and hearty thanks for the honour of her advice, and promiſed all exact obſervance. Afterwards I kiſſed her hand, in teſtimony of my devotion unto her ſervice; and ſo went out of the Cloſſet, leaſt any ſhould obſerve or ſuſpect any buſineſſe more then ordinary to be betwixt us.

The King reſted ſome dayes, and never ſpoke unto me, to ſee what effects his Letter would produce. But Ardilan in the mean time was not idle; for being a ſubtle and witty fellow, and having found the opportunity of talking with Duriana every morning as ſhe went unto the Temple, he had ſo gained her, what by his ſmooth language, and what by gifts, that the wench was wholly his: and the matter was carried ſo cloſe and cunningly betwixt them that none in the Court perceived it: The King on the other ſide having diſcovered himſelf unto this man, and much confiding in him, he was ſo reſerved, that had I not acquainted Clotilda with his deſign, ſhe had never taken any notice of it. Every hour in the day, ſhe enquired of me whether any new accident had faln out, and was ſtill giving me inſtructions how to behave my ſelf: at laſt, I told her that I was in hopes the Kings mind was changed, ſince he was ſo long ſilent: ah Sweetheart, (ſaid ſhe unto me) that fire which is covered in the embers, may flaſh out before you [Page] be aware: never think your ſelf out of danger till you ſee Gondebaut love another; and then I will believe it, knowing very well, that new thoughts are apt to ſmother the old ones: But till then, ſtand upon your guard, and aſſure your ſelf, that when the enemy ſeems to ſleep, then is he preparing himſelf for a moſt dangerous aſſault.

The Forreſt of Ereiwe, which ſome call the Forreſt of Mars, is diſtant from [...]e Town about a mile and a half; Clotilda did much delight in hunting when the ſweather was fair, and the Suns heat would permit. My Companions and I re [...]embled Harpalice, that generous Thracian Lady, when ſhe galloped over the plains after after the lively Hart, or when with her Javelin ſhe aſſaulted the furious Bore: our habits were as gay as hers, all glittering in Gold, Silver, and ſeveral coloured Silks; our rich Scarfs waved in defiance of the wind; Diamonds did vye gliſtering with the Sun; and Pearles looked like ſo many chains of Stars about our necks; our Feathers and every thing ſet us out to the beſt advantage: the cuſtome was, that we might go as beſt pleaſed us, either together, or ſeveral provided it was not out of the ſight of our Governeſſe: and if any Cavalier had any diſpoſition to talk with us, he freely might as long as he pleaſed. That day Merindor was next me, and though he received no anſwers from me, yet he ſtill continued his ordinary importunities. Gondebaut whoſe eye was alwayes upon me, as ſoon as we were paſſed over the bride of Roſne, and were entred into the plain, he ſeemed as if he did not obſerve me but called Ardilan unto him, and commanded that as ſoon as I was lighted to go up the Scaffold where we were to view the combate between the Cavaliers and ſome wild Bores which were taken in Toyles, then he ſhould find fault with the ſhooe of my horſe, as if it were looſe, and in taking up his foot, to thruſt a nail into his hoof and make him lame: you muſt alſo know, that after ſeveral combates before the Ladies, they uſe to let ſome Bores looſe and hunt them with dogs.

After many Cavaliers had ſhewed much courage in the death of many Bores, the King commanded all the company to take horſe and follow the chaſe; upon this, the Ladies and the Cavaliers all mounted, and followed the Huntſmen, Merindor, as his cuſtome was, would needs help me up, and afterwards▪ my Companion; I ſeeing Clotilda far before me, began to gallop after: but after twenty or forty paces, my horſe fell ſo lame; that he could hardly ſet his foot upon the ground, and therefore we could not overtake Clotilda, who followed the chaſe with full ſpeed. The King who ſtayed purpoſly behind with a ſmall company▪ did quickly overtake us; and ſeeming to be ignorant of my horſes lameneſs, did ask me how it came to paſſe, and whether it was by leaping over ſome ditch? I told him that I know not by what accident it was, but was ſure that if he continued thus lame; I ſhould not be able to follow the chaſe. The King looked about if there was any horſe in the Company upon which I might mount, but finding none good enough, he commanded Merindor to ride after Clotilda and acquaint our Governeſſe, that I could not overtake the Company, and that ſhe ſhould take order for another horſe, or elſe to come and keep me Company, it not being fit I ſhould be left alone. Oh good God, how deſirous ſome ſeem to mend things, when they themſelves would have them more in diſorder? Merindor he ſet ſpurs to his horſe and rid away, and my Companion, out of reſpect, kept at a diſtance behind, where ſome Cavaliers of the Kings held her in talk. But the King, to loſe no time began thus; Come fair one (ſaid he) what anſwer will you give unto my Letter? Will you doom me to live or dye?

As ſoon as ever I ſaw the King, I expected an aſſault, and ſaw no way to avoid it; ſo as I began preſently to conſider with my ſelf what anſwer I ſhould give him. I did very well remember Clotildas inſtruction, and was fully determined to follow them: but the grand Feaſt not being yet paſt, and I fearing to make any blander of the matter which was principally forbidden me, I reſolved to defer my anſwer until another time: ſo as with a ſmiling look I ſaid thus unto him; The anſwer Sir, which you require of me, I cannot give at this time: but I moſt humbly beſeech you to give me the reſpite of fiveteen dayes, and then you ſhall know the reaſon of my delay. I ſhall (anſwered he) and will wait your [Page] pleaſure as long as you will; but let me tell you, that I think this delay to be to no purpoſe: bu [...] faireſt, ſince you will have it ſo, I am reſolved to ſubmit; yet upon a promiſe now that y [...]u will give me an anſwer then. Sir, anſwered I, I do moſt faithfully it. Then my faireſt (ſaid he unto me and ſmiled) let me tell you, that to get this opportunity of ſpeech with you, it was I who cauſed your horſe thus lame; and by this you may ſee that my invention is not ſo barren, but I can find out opportunities when I pleaſe. Give me leave to tell you Sir (anſwered I) that it was but a cruel invention to lame a poor horſe, which did you no harm: Conſider, fair one, replied he preſent [...]y, that I do love you with ſuch a perfect affection, that I would do any thing whatſoever to obtain your favour. You put your ſelf Sir to abundance of trouble (anſwered I) for a thing that is not valuable; but Sir, ſince it was you that lamed my horſe I beſeech you, pitty him ſo far as to cure him again: I ſpoke this purpoſely to interrupt him as he was offering to ſpeak. It ſeems you think (replied he) that I have the ſame power which you have, who can when you pleaſe cure the wound which you make. Oh Sir (ſaid I and interrupted him) I beſeech you let us talk of that another time, and for the preſent, talk of my poor horſe who is not able to carry me. This compaſſion, replied he, might be better imployed another way: but ſince you command it ſo, I will not diſobay in the leaſt: then turning towards Ardilan, he commanded him to ſend for a Smith; who being brought preſently, come friend (ſaid the King) look at the foot of that horſe, there is a nail that ſtands higher then the reſt, pull it out, for queſtion leſſe that is the cauſe of his lameneſs: the Smith looking at the horſes foot, found it preſently as the King ſaid; and pulling the nail out, the horſe was as well as before: In the mean time Merindor delivered his meſſage, and the Governeſs returned with him bringing another horſe for me; which the King ſeeing, farewel (iaid he unto me) all contentment for this day: and ſetting ſpurs to his horſe he rid away the ſame way that Merindor came, leaving me alone with Companion, and two Cavaliers that ſtayed with us.

The King in the mean time, meeting Merindor and his Company, go, go, ſaid he unto him, you did not obſerve that the horſe was only ſtamped with a nail, which being pulled out, the horſe will be as ever he was. The King ſpoke this, as he galloped away, to ſhew that this was all he cared, and ſo he rode till he overtook the chaſe.

Conſider now, I beſeech you, what mortal enemies men are unto us; and what abundance of pains they will take to ruine poor women: but oh Heaven! how hard it is to avoid their treachery, eſpecially when we fall into the hands of a ſubtle perſon that has authority? I had ſufficient experience of their falſhood, and the wounds which their perſidy had made in my ſoul were yet freſh: I wanted not any good counſel, and yet I muſt confeſs the flatteries of Gondebaut were pleaſing unto me, maugre my reſolution, and I delighted the ſubmiſſion of ſo great a King: ſo as I adviſe all women to beware of ſuch enemies, and ſhun them as Syrens, without lending the leaſt care unto them.

As ſoon as I was come up to the company, I acquainted Clotilda with all that Gondebaut had ſaid unto me, and with all my anſwers, and ſhe thought that I had done very prudently in it; but when I told her of his invention to lame my horſe purpoſly to ſpeak with me, Oh Dorinde (ſaid ſhe unto me) I am extreamly afraid of ſome mis-fortune, and let me tell you my mind freely, that if he do not fall off as ſoon as you have given him his anſwer, you muſt marry. Madam, anſwered I, I hope to carry my ſelf ſo as ſhall never diſpleaſe you, but as for marriage, I muſt heartily beſeech you, let it be the laſt remedy, for I do ſo much abominate all men living, that the very name of a husband is odious unto me, and I can never live with one but be moſt miſerable.

As ſoon as night came Clotilda acquainted Sigiſmond with the paſſage, who ſeeing the freedom of my diſcourſe, did plainly perceive that I had no mind to the King: but fearing leaſt I ſhould change, and deſiring to prevent it; Siſter, ſaid he unto her, I have a great deſire to ſpeak with Dorinde, I can diſcover her intention better then you; for you muſt know, that if ſhe do diſlike the addreſſe of the King all his labour will be but loſt; but on the other ſide, if it pleaſe her [Page] all our pains will be to no purpoſe, and you may incur much danger. I cannot believe her ſo ſubtle (anſwered Clotilda) as to hide any thing from me; and beſides, if you ſhould ſound her, ſhe will be much more reſerued to you then to me. Refer that unto me (anſwered he) and after two or three tryals, I ſhall tell you more of my mind.

The King on the other ſide, told Ardilan, all that I had ſaid unto him, and it was reſolved as neceſſary that Duriana ſhould be acquainted with the Kings affection unto me; for the crafty Ardilan had ſo tampered with her, what by gifts and what by promiſes of marriages, that in all likelyhood ſhe was wholly at his diſpoſe. But to ſet a handſom gloſſe upon the matter, they muſt ſeem as if the Kings intention was to marry me, thinking by this gilded bait to draw both Duriana and me to ſwallow the hook ſooner. The next morning Ardilan failed not to ſpeak unto Duriana; after many proteſtation of affection and promiſes of marriages, Duriana (ſaid he unto her) to let you ſee how inſeperably in am yours, I will truſt you with ſuch a ſecret as if ever it be diſcovered, I am utterly ruined, and I will ſo tye my ſelf unto you by this freedom, as you may ſee nothing can ſeperate me from you. Know therefore Duriana, that the King is ſo extreamly in love with Dorinde, that he never enjoys any contentment or reſt, but when he ſees her, and yet carries it out ſo diſcreetly, that I believe none takes any notice of it. I proteſt (anſwered Duriana with much admiration) you amaze me in telling me the King loves my Miſtris; for ſuch perſons can hardly, love without diſcovery: but I beſeech you tell me, how does ſhe take it? I cannot tell (anſwered he) ſhe has not given him his anſwer; but I am ſure ſhe is ill adviſed if ſhe reject ſuch an advantagious fortune. Advantagious? (anſwered Duriana preſently) how do you mean it? Without all doubt highly advantagious (replied he) and ſo perhaps that when you know all you will wonder more; for moſt certainly, if ſhe carry her ſelf towards him as ſhe ought to do, the King will marry her. How, how? (ſaid ſhe and clapped her hands together) the King marry Dorinde? and my Miſtris become Queen of the Burgundians? doubtleſs ſhe may (anſwered he) if ſhe will but accept of her fortune. Oh Ardilan (ſaid ſhe, and took him about the neck) doubtleſs you but mock me. I proteſt before Heaven I do not mock, anſwered he, and you will find all I ſay to be moſt certainly true, if ſhe be well adviſed; why ſhould you think it a thing ſo ſtrange or impoſſible? Do you not remember his affection unto Criſeide, and how he would have married her? And can you think that ſtranger of a better family or more meritorious then Dorinde? No Duriana, believe me, the King is reſolved upon it, he has told me as much, and I know his mind moſt perfectly; but to tell you truly I am afraid your Miſtris is not ſo well adviſed as ſhe ſhould be, and in lieu of being Queen of the Burgundians, will make her ſelf the moſt miſerable woman in all the Kingdom; for if ever ſhe acquaint Clotilda with it, moſt certainly ſhe will give her ill counſel, and ſtrive to divert her for many reaſons, eſpecially becauſe ſhe cannot brook that a perſon ſo inferiour ſhould become her Lady and Miſtris, nor obey one who obayes her now. Moreover you muſt know (but of this my dear Duriana you muſt take no notice) you muſt know I ſay, that Clotilda is none of the Kings welwiſhers; the quarrel is irreconcilable, for Chilperick her father having uſurped the Crown of the Burgundians from Gondebaut his elder brother, he took his meaſures ſo ill, that he ſuffered himſelf to be beſieged in Vienna, where afterwards he was taken and loſt his life by the Kings juſt command; and though this puniſhment was no more then due, yet the wound ſmarts ſtill in the heart of Clotilda, and I do not think it will ever heal or be forgotten: ſo as ſhe will moſt certainly do the King all the diſpleaſure ſhe can, and therefore your Miſtris muſt be ſure to ſpeak nothing of it unto her, unleſs ſhe will ruin the whole buſineſſe. Indeed (ſaid Duriana) you have imparted a thing which I am very glad to know, for it is of great importance, and I perceive by your expreſſions you deſire I ſhould intereſt my ſelf in the buſineſs, which I promiſe you to do, as well becauſe I ſhall be glad to give you any contentment, as becauſe if the Kings intention be ſo as you ſay, it will be ſo great and honour and advancement unto my Miſtris, as I muſt needs ſay, ſhe is ill adviſed if ſhe refuſe it. Within a few dayes [Page] I ſhall tell you more, and in the mean time, take ſpecial care leaſt the buſineſs be diſcovered until it be fully reſolved upon; for publication of it may be a great impediment to the progreſſe.

This was the Diſcourſe betwixt Ardilan and Duriana, who believed all for moſt infallible truths: and I have ſince found the ſaying of my Father to be moſt true; which was, that if any Prince have a deſign to deceive another, he muſt firſt deceive the Embaſſadour which is employed betwixt them, becauſe he once having an opinion that what is told him is true, wel invent reaſons and expreſſions to imprint belief, better then he could if he had lyed, So Duriana, believing my marriage as a matter moſt certain, and foreſeeing future grandures upon me and her ſelf, above al hopes, I knew ſhe watched for an opportunity of talk with me: but thinking it to be only about ſome domeſtique affaires, and never dreaming ſhe could know any thing of this buſineſs, I did not give her that opportunity ſhe longed for. Yet at night, when we were al alone, becauſe I did love her for the fidelity and affection to me, and ſeeing her ſo deſiring to ſpeak unto me; wel Duriana (ſaid I unto her) what news have you to tel me? She anſwered with a ſmile, news Madam unto you it may be none (ſaid ſhe) but unto me it was news, and news which gave me abundance of contentment when I heard it: good Duriana (ſaid I unto her) what doſt thou mean? for my part, I do not underſtand thee: Madam, replied ſhe, you do but diſſemble when you ſay ſo: but do you think there is any under the Cope of Heaven, that loves you better then I? I proteſt Madam, I wil not yeild unto that love which you hear unto your ſelf, and yet you are pleaſed to conceale your ſelf from Duriana: From Duriana I ſay, who to ſerve you would forſake Father, Mother, and al the kindred ſhe has in the world: I could juſtly complain againſt you if I would, but I dare not ſin ſo far as to diſapprove of any thing you do. I proteſt, ſaid I unto her and ſmiled, I know of no cauſe you have to complain againſt me: I proteſt, anſwered ſhe again, you do not ſpeak as you think: but Madam, why ſhould you hide a thing from me, which I deſire ſo much to know? but do you think I am ignorant of it? Miſtake not your ſelf, perhaps I knew more particulars of it then your ſelf. Good Duriana (ſaid I unto her) what is it that you mean? Wel, ſaid ſhe, ſince you wil have me tel you that which you ſhould have told me long ſince, I wil; upon condition that you conceal nothing hereafter from your moſt faithful Duriana. Do you think Madam I do not know, that thanks be to God, the King is in love with you? With me, (anſwered I, and laid my hand upon her mouth) be ſilent you fool, and ſay no more; I ſee you talk you know not what: Duriana went back a pace or two; talk I know not what? replied ſhe: Yes, yes, aſſure your ſelf I do know what I ſay, and know it very wel, and muſt tel you again that it is your own fault if you be not Queen of the Burgundians. At this word Queen, I bluſht, and holding one hand before my face; I think (ſaid I unto her) that you are out of your wits, and if any heard us, they would think us both ſo: I ſee, replied ſhe, that none does hear us; but believe me were I in your room, the buſineſs ſhould be quickly concluded: ſay and do what you will, if you refuſe ſuch a favour from fortune, ſhe wil never offer you the like again: How Miſtris? May be Queen of the Burgundians and wil not? You ſay I am mad, but if you refuſe ſuch a fortune, I wil ſay you are ten times madder. This ſhe continued a long while, and I ſeeing her affection and manner of expreſſion, could not chuſe but ſmile: which when ſhe ſaw, ſhe grew half angry, and ſhaking her head, ſaid unto me; Wel, wel, Miſtris, you laugh now at what I ſay, but I dare venture a good wager that if you wil not believe me, we ſhal ſee you ere long with tears in your eyes. I could not forbear laughing out right at this, which cauſed her to be angry in good earneſt, and would have gone away, ſwearing that ſince I ſo mocked her ſhe would never ſpeak to me of any buſineſs again, nor tel me any thing ſhe heard. But I being deſirous to hear what ſhe could tel me, and what ſhe knew, I catched hold of her, ſaying, Why Duriana? wil you not let me laugh when you tel me any thing that pleaſeth me? Do you think that to be a Queen is ſuch bad news, as to make me cry when I hear it? The truth is you tel it in ſuch a manner as I cannot tel whether you be in earneſt or in jeſt; come, come, tel me [Page] the whole ſtory of the buſineſs, and how you come to know of it. Madam, replied ſhe, let me then tel you truly, that King Gondebaut will make you Queen of the Burgundians if you will, and that preſently unleſs you your ſelf hinder it. What, good 'Duriana, ſaid I unto her, ſhould I do, to bring this to paſſe? Only marry the King, anſwered ſhe, who loves you above his life. How came you to know thus much? ſaid I unto her, nay, nay, anſwered ſhe preſently, you ſhall not know that ti [...]l you tell me whether you will have him to your husband or no, for if you refuſe the offer, why ſhould you deſire to know any more of it? Canſt thou doubt Duriana (ſaid I unto her) that I will not receive the Crown of the Burgundians moſt willingly if there be any likelyhood of getting it? Surely I were out of my wits if I did; but the fault is not in my will but the Kings, who perhaps is only in jeſt. The King, anſwered ſhe is not in jeſt; but if you will behave your ſelf as you ought to do, I lay my life you will ſee it come preſently to paſſe.

This Wench ſpoke with ſuch confidence, as I muſt needs confeſſe I began to believe that ſhe knew more then I did; and preſently after, ambition did ſo ſwel me, that forgetting the commands of the wife Clotilda and my promiſe to her, I reſolved to follow the Councel of Duriana if I ſaw any probability in it; and therefore, after I had a while thought upon it, fixing my eye upon the ground I made her this anſwer; Be ſure Duriana that you ſpeak nothing but the very clear truth; and if I do find any probability in what thou ſayeſt, I promiſe to do whatſoever thou wilt have me; I know thou loveſt me, and therefore art deſirous of my welfare and advancement. Be confidently aſſured Madam, (ſaid ſhe unto me) that I do love you, and that I deſire your welfare and advancement more then you can do your ſelf: I have received my education from you, and God willing Madam, I wil end my life in your ſervice, and therefore you may well believe me moſt deſirous of your happineſs and advancement. Now Madam, ſince I ſee you inclinable to do as you ought, be pleaſed to know that the King does ſo dote of you, that if you wil, he will marry you; and Ardilan whom you know very wel, told me as much five or ſix dayes ſince, and becauſe I would not at the firſt credit what he ſaid, he confirmed it with many oaths. But Duriana (anſwered I, and ſighed) doeſt thou not know that all men are falſe and deceitful? What ſhould invite the King to this? Madam, (anſwered ſhe preſently) al thoſe who hath hitherto courted you, they did it for their advantage, becauſe you had been a fortune to them, if you had married them; but the Kings courtſhip proceeds from nothing but the Love which he bears unto you, for he cannot pretend unto any advantage. Do you not remember how he would have married Cryſeide, and are not you in al reſpects as good as ſhe? Your beauty will not yeild to hers; your deſcent is before her, and your alliance alſo, you are no ſtranger as ſhe was; you are no captive, nor thanks be to God was ever the booty and plunder of Souldiers: and therefore Madam, ſince the King took ſo much pains to marty Cryſeide, who was every way your inferior? Why ſhould not he be as earneſt, nay more, to marry Dorinde, who every way excels Cryſeide? But, ſaid I, ſuppoſe al this to be ſo; what would Ardilan have me do? In the firſt place, anſwered ſhe immediately, he would have you love the King; next that you have a great care to ſpeak of it unto none, eſpecially unto the Princeſs Clotilda: For Madam, you muſt know that this Princeſs bears ill wil unto the King, becauſe Chilperick her Father, who uſurped the Crown, was by him put to death. Clotilda knows it, and being in his hands, dares not ſpeak againſs it, leaſt ſhe ſhould be mued up amongſt the Veſtals as her Siſter was; but aſſure your ſelf that if ſhe were at liberty, ſhe would ſhew the effects of her ill wil, though now ſhe wil not ſhew teeth, til ſhe be able to bite: therefore Madam, you muſt conceale it from her above all others, becauſe you being her ſervant ſhe wil not endure to ſee you raiſed unto ſuch height as that ſhe muſt be your vaſſal and inferior.

Duriana did know how to repreſent theſe conſiderations ſo wel, that ſhe found a diſpoſition in me to hearken unto her: ſo as before we parted I promiſed to do as ſhe would have me provided, ſhe would have a care we ſhould not be deceived. Oh how dangerous it is, to place perſons that are intereſted, about [Page] young women? From that time I forgot all the wiſe inſtructions of Clotilda, and all the oaths which I ſwore unto her; I reſolved to ſpeak unto her no more, or at leaſt, would ſtay till I ſaw whether the King was in earneſt or jeſt. Duriana tranſported with joy, ſeeing me ſo reſolved ſhe took my hand; now Madam (ſaid ſhe) I kiſs this hand not as Dorindos, but the Queen of the Burgundians, for ſo I hold you to be already.

Thus we parted, and the next morning letting Ardilan know that ſhe deſired to ſpeak with him, ſhe acquainted him with all that had paſſed betwixt us, at which he ſeemed to be ſo well contented, that this fooliſh woman was more gulled by him then ſhe was before.

The young Prince Sigiſmond by the advice of the prudent Avitus, had ſecretly procured one of Gondebauts Bed-chamber to acquaint him with all the privacies of that King: and this not out of any ill deſign, but only to prevent the fury of the Kings paſſionate humours when he was angry with any one, as he ſaw cauſe, or elſe, to order himſelf the better in matters of ſtate, to the contentment of Gondebaut.

Now ſo it fortuned, that as ſubtle as Ardilan was, and careful leaſt any ſhould hear when he ſpoke to the King of this buſineſſe; yet ſo it was, that this man heard all the ſtory of it; and as ſoon as any began to be ſecret with the King, he uſed to creep ſo behind the hangings, that he could hear any thing that was ſaid.

This time therefore, having obſerved that Ardilan was of late very cloſe with the King, as ſoon as he ſaw him coming he got behind the hangings, making no queſtion but the King being alone, there would be ſome conference betwixt them▪ and he was not miſtaken: for as ſoon as Ardilan came into the room, and ſeeing none with the King, he went unto him; at firſt he began to ſpeak in a low whiſper; but afterwards ſeeing the coſt clear, he raiſed his voice and named Duriana and Dorinde, which made the man to ſuſpect ſome matter of Love: afterwards as they walked up and down he heard as much as he could deſire; which preſently he imparted into the young Prince, which received this advertiſement with much contentment: not but that it vexed him to the ſoul, the King ſhould continue his courtſhip, he himſelf having the ſame deſign; but he was glad to know it, that he might uſe the beſt remedy he could againſt it: he gave the man therefore many thanks, and after a preſent of gratification, deſired him to continue his intelligence with great promiſes of further reward when occaſions preſented themſelves.

The next evening, when we were all in Clotildas chamber, and my Companions, very earneſt at play, by fortune I was alone at the farther end of the chamber, and he came unto me; and ſeeing that I took no notice of him, as being wholly taken up with my own thoughts, he waved his hand two or three times before my eyes, ere I did ſee him, ſo much was my mind diſtracted another way. I perceive Dorinde (ſaid he unto me) that you entertain your thoughts in very ſerious earneſt: at this voice I recollected my ſelf, and rubbing my eyes as if I were newly waked out of a ſound ſleep, I would gladly have excuſed my fault. Nay, fair one (ſaid he unto me) you need not be aſhamed of your contemplation, for I am moſt confident it is very good, and you could not entertain your ſelf better then with it. Sir, (ſaid I unto him) I have more manners then to contradict you in any thing; but I beſeech you give me leave to ſay, that your language proceeds either from your exceſs of courteſie, or from flattery. Could you but ſee your ſelf, faireſt, with my eyes (ſaid he unto me) you would not ſay ſo; I aſſure my ſelf every one will be of my opinion; and if you pleaſe to give me leave, I dare venture a wager, that I can tell what you were thinking upon when I came unto you. Sir, anſwered I, it will be very hard for you to do it, ſince I can hardly tell my ſelf, and I dare accept of your wager without any fear of loſing. You need not fear any loſſe by me (anſwered he) but what you pleaſe; for▪ I am ſo much yours, that none can be more, and if you would have any thing of me, though it be my life, ask, and it ſhall not be denied. Doubtleſſe Sir, ſaid I and ſmiled) you are this night diſpoſed to jear me; but the power is yours, and I take all that comes from you with reverence and reſpect, as is my duty. This [Page] Language (replied he) were fitter beſtowed upon another then me; I mean upon him whom you were thinking upon when I came towards you. I know not Sir what you mean, replied I, nor him whom you ſay I was thinking upon; for I had no other thought but upon ſleep: You do diſſemble fair one, ſaid he, for you were thinking upon the Diſcourſe the King had with you, when he lamed your horſe. At this I began to bluſh, and was extreamly ſurpriſed: Nay, nay, faireſt (ſaid he) never bluſh at what I ſay, for when you know with how much affection I adore you, you will not be ſorry that I am acquainted with the buſineſs whereof I ſpeak: I offer unto you my ſelf and ſervice moſt freely; and to let you ſee the truth of my words, I know the Kings deſign, and advertiſe you, that if you do not look very unto your ſelf, he will deceive you. Ardilan and his acceſſe unto Duriana is diſcovered in the Court, and every one thinks it tends to your diſadvantage; and be aſſured that this advertiſement which I give unto you is the beſt you can receive from any.

He added unto this other diſcourſe, which did plainly evidence unto me that he knew all the Kings deſign, and the pandariſme of Ardilan; and becauſe, I thought that to deny it abſolutely, would but more confirm him in his belief, alſo becauſe I thought his advertiſement not without ſome colour of reaſon, I anſwered him thus; You tell me of a thing Sir, which if concealing it from you could hide it from my ſelf, I would ſooner dye then confeſſe it to you; but ſince I cannot, to my misfortune make my ſelf▪ignorant of it, I do confeſs that the King has made ſuch an overture unto me, and I do know that Ardilan has held more communication with Duriana, then I would have her; but Sir, what remedy is there againſt all this, ſince it is the King, unleſſe I ſhould get out of his Dominions ſo far that none who knows me ſhall ever hear the ſound of my name, Do not think Sir, but I know, that the King is only pleaſed to make himſelf a little ſport by mocking me; but that which moſt vexeth me, is, that every one will be apt to cenſure as they pleaſe; and ſince Sir your are pleaſed to ſpeak ſo much upon this ſubject, and ſince the Title of Cavalier, beſide that of a great Prince, does oblige you to aſſiſt afflicted and diſtreſſed Ladies, I beſeech you tell me, what you think to be my beſt courſe. Believe it, faireſt, anſwered he, that the affection which I have unto you will not permit me to refuſe you the beſt counſel and aſſiſtance that I can give or you deſire; I am afraid that too much notice will be taken of our being ſo long in diſcourſe together; all I can ſay at this time, is, reject the Kings Love, for believe me it will ruine you and your honour, and above all, take heed of Ardilan.

This was the firſt Diſcourſe he had with me, and becauſe he obſerved Clotilda caſt an eye two or three times upon us, he went preſently towards her to acquaint her with what had paſſed betwixt us: but he never told her what expreſſions he had uſed of his good will unto me; only told her what he had ſaid unto me concerning the King, and Ardilan. And ſee, how ſubtil he was, to make her more zealous in diverting me from the King; he ſeemed unto her as if I was not ſo averſe unto this buſineſs as I ſeemed unto her; and that Ardilan was crafty and ſubtil, that if good heed was not taken he would inſenſibly prevail with me. Clotilda who was very unwilling I ſhould be deceived, did promiſe him to have ſuch a vigilant eye over me, that neither ſhe nor I ſhould be deceived; and he alſo was very aſſiſtant in it, ſo as when to conjoyn the matter was not ſo difficult, to divert the King, and find out the ſubtilties of the man.

Oh Heaven! how cruel are our diſtinies, in being conſtrained to live amongſt our enemies? For what more Tyger enemies can we have then men, ſince they never reſt till they ruine us? Were it not for this pittyleſs nature which is in them all, why ſhould not the King at his age let me live at reſt in the ſervice of that prudent Princeſs? Why ſhould Ardilan take ſuch abundance of paines and care to corrupt Duriana? But why ſhould the young Sigiſmond leave off ſo many other good imployments, to delude both Clotilda and me? When I think ſeriouſly upon theſe things, I muſt needs confeſs the ſaying true, that all the univerſe is maintained by contrarieties: and our contrary, is man; or to ſay better, that the Gods not willing we ſhould enjoy any perfect contentment upon earth, produced [Page] men only to torment us. And ſee I beſeech you, how crafty this young Prince was; ſince this day he never talked to me of any thing but expreſſions of his affection to me; yet told Clotilda that he ſpoke againſt Gondebaut and Ardilan. And they laboured the buſineſs ſo betwixt them, that I began to enter into doubt of the Kings promiſes, and approve of thoſe reaſons which Sigiſmond alledged: but my greateſt wonder was, the long delay of the King ſince my laſt anſwer: and becauſe I had till then concealed from the Princeſs, the laſt diſcourſe which Ardilan had with Duriana, I reſolved to acquaint her with it, as well becauſe I feared leaſt the Prince ſhould tell her, and ſo ſhe be angry with me, as becauſe being confident, that the Princeſs loving me as ſhe ſeemed to to, ſhe would be glad of my future grandure of it came to paſs, or elſe would help me to undeceive my ſelf. One night therefore when ſhe was in bed, and according to her cuſtom, called me, I ſaid unto her, not without a bluſh; This candle, Madam, which I hold in my hand (for I alwayes uſed to hold one by her as I kneeled) will let you ſee that I am aſhamed of what I ſhall ſay unto you; but ſince it is neceſſary you ſhould know it, my duty bids me not conceale it. Be pleaſed therefore to know, Madam, that Duriana brought me a very pleaſſant news this morning, but truly, Madam, I cannot well tell whether I ſhould aſſume ſo much boldneſs as to tell you: Dorinde, ſaid ſhe, out with it freely and boldly, and be aſſured that though it make me angry with him; yet it ſhall make me pleaſed with you: what? is it ſome Letter? Oh Madam, anſwered I, it is ſome thing elſe then a Letter: what then? (ſaid ſhe) ſome preſent? Yes a preſent, anſwered I, and the greateſt that could be ſent; but it is only in words: But tell me (ſaid ſhe) what meſſage did Duriana bring you from him? I beſeech you Madam (ſaid I, and ſmiled) firſt laugh before I tell you, for I aſſure you it will make you laugh when you hear it: be pleaſed to know then, that Duriana came to me in poſt haſt when I was in bed, to tell me that the King would marry me. How? (replied Clotilda) the King marry you? Ardilan, replied I ſwore it unto Duriana with a thouſand oaths, and gave her in charge to tell me as much. Oh Sweet-heart (replied the Princeſſe prenſently) take heed of believing it; it is mear poyſon under a gilded Pill, and will ruine you; bid Duriana return this anſwer, that if the Kings intention be honourable and advantagious to you, let him acquaint me with it, and moſt certainly I ſhall never contradict him; which if he do not do, then believe it, that he would deceive you. For why ſhould the King marry in ſecret? Or if he would, how can he think it will be concealed? No, no, Dorinde, aſſure your ſelf, it is not the Kings deſign, but only Ardilans, who cares not how he does engage his Maſter, ſo he can but obtain his deſires; and therefore my advice is, that if you do not preſently ſee theſe words made good, to forbid Duriana ſtrictly from having any farther conference with Ardilan, ſo as he may have no farther hopes of deceiving you: I wonder Duriana ſhould have ſo little diſcretion as to bring you any ſuch meſſages: aſſure your ſelf this ſubtle fellow has ſuborned her, either by gifts or ſome trick or other; and if ſo, I advice you to be rid of her aſſoon as poſſibly you can, for there is no wiſdom in keeping perſons of that temper about one. Madam, replied I, I ſhall be alwayes moſt obſervant of all your commands: and as for Duriana, I do wonder at her as much as you, and ſhall keep ſuch an obſervant eye over all her actions, as I ſhall diſcover the truth.

Some dayes paſſed before I could find a heart to break off quite with the King: for hopes of grandure had ſo dazled my eyes as cauſed me to delay it. In the time the young Sigiſmond, who was advertiſed of all paſſages, ſeeming to divert me from the Kings Love, loſt no occaſion to expreſſe his own, but ſo cautiouſly that Clotilda did not perceive it, but on the contrary would ſooner have believed any thing elſe: but when he was in a place where none could hear his diſcourſe, he did nothing elſe: but expreſs his affection: and I muſt needs confeſs, that if I were to chuſe, the ſons Love would have made me reject the Fathers; and therefore it was, that I never acquainted Clotilda with it as I ought, though I knew it to be my duty: for I was afraid to incenſe both the Father and the Son againſt me at one time. One day when we were in the Athenian Gardens, for winter was then paſt, and Trees began to put on the livery of the [Page] Spring, Sigiſmond, who of late was continually amongſt us, took me under the arm, and having ſeperated me a little from the reſt of the Company, my deareſt fair one (ſaid he unto me) I aſſure my ſelf that you cannot chuſe but ſee the extream affection which I have unto you; and ſince it is ſo, it ſeems ſomthing ſtrange that no ſymptomes of any pitty ſhould appear unto you. Sir, (ſaid I unto him) though your language he only to make your ſelf merry in jeſting with me, yet I think my ſelf much obliged unto you for it; and be what it will, I take it as coming from Prince Sigiſmond, in ſuch a reverential manner as I ought to do. Did I think (ſaid he) that your heart conſented unto your tongue, I ſhould extreamly complain againſt you: but I know ſuch anſwers are ordinary in the mouths of ſuch fair ones as you are, and therefore, I conjure you by what you eſteem moſt dear, to tell me whether you do not know that the Prince Sigiſmond is really in love with you. Your conjuration Sir, (ſaid I unto him) has ſo much prevalency in it as to draw any truth, be it never ſo ſecret, from my ſoul. Be pleaſed therefore to know Sir, that it is true, I think you wiſh me very well, but it is no more then you own unto any that honours you, as I do. Fair one replied he preſently, you think a right; for there is nothing under the Sun more certain then my affection unto you; and I will ſooner hate my ſelf then not love you in the higheſt degree. Theſe thoughts Sir (ſaid I unto him) cannot avail you any thing at all, and may be very prejudicial unto me. Theſe thoughts, replied he, are they which can give me the greateſt contentment that I can hope for in this world, and cannot be any way prejudicial unto you; for take this as a moſt infallible maxime, that nothing which brings you any diſpleaſure, can be pleaſing unto me. I do know very well Sir, ſaid I unto him, that Prince Sigiſmond is courteſie in the very abſtract, and a ſervant unto all Ladies in general. Truth is, replied he, I do infinitely honour all your ſexe: but, my faireſt, it is for your ſake. Good Sir, (ſaid I and interrupted him) conſider this, that all the pains you take in your fluent Language, (admit your words to be true) is but ſo much labour loſt; and an honour unto me, ſo dearly bought, as if ever it be known, will undo me: for what can you hope for Sir, from me? And if this Diſcourſe ſhould ever come to be known, it would turn to my diſadvantage. Dorinde (anſwered he with a more ſerious look) I will not ſay unto you as the King does, that I will marry you, for I will never deceive you; but I will ſay, and ſwear by all that is Sacred, that I wiſh with all my ſoul I might marry you. And I cannot think that though this ſhould come to be known unto the world, any would blame you for it, but rather honour and eſteem you the more, and cenſure it by way of advantage unto you. As for the advantage or utility which I can hope for, know this my faireſt, that I do eſteem you ſo much, that I deſire no other advantage but the contentment of loving you: and if the affection be but pleaſing and accepted I may ſay that my greateſt deſire is accompliſhed. I was ready to anſwer him when one of my Companions came to tell me, that Clotilda would ſpeak with me, and ſ [...] our conference broke off; for which I was not ſorry, becauſe I found that the affection and ſubmiſſion of this young Prince, began to work upon me. But oh, how careful ought all of our age be of ſuch encounters? I had been already deceived by three or four ſmooth tongued lovers. I was not yet unfettered from thoſe fallacies which the Father had laid to entrap me, and yet I know not how, I began by little and little to hearken unto the candid flatteries of the Son, and which was worſt of all, I was ſo taken with them that I could not guard my ſelf from them.

Ever ſince this day, that Prince did ſo continue his courtſhip, that Clotilda took notice of it; but he, crafty and wary as ſoon as ever he ſaw that, he ſo retired himſelf, and kept ſuch diſtance of indifferency towards me, as that opinion quickly vaniſhed: and beſides, I did contribute my aſſiſtance towards it, and did advertiſe him when at any time he diſcovered himſelf too freely; conjuring him to keep it cloſe, and to carry himſelf diſcretly and warily: Theſe advertiſements which I gave unto him, were certain aſſurances of the good will which I had unto him; which begot ſuch a confidence in him, that he began to write unto me, & preſently after to ſend me preſents under the notion of the good will he bore unto all that [Page] waited upon Clotilda, unto whom he ſent the like preſents, purpoſly to collour his preſent unto me: He would alſo play with me very often for wagers, and loſe purpoſely; and though his preſents were never without the Princeſſes leave, yet he did alwayes accompany them with ſome ſecret Letter, or copy of Verſes: and I received many Letters and Papers of Verſes from him, according to the ſubject of the preſents on the accidents which hapned; but with ſo much diſcretion, that neither the Princeſs nor Gondebaut perceived them. And becauſe I knew what intimacy there was betwixt Ardilan and Duriana, I kept the matter all cloſe from her as from any other. For I confeſs that the young Prince and the ſweet diſpoſition which I found in him, had ſuch an influence upon me, that I fell of by degrees from Gondebaut: for beſides the affection of Sigiſmond, Clotilda was continually buzzing in my ears the wavering humour of the King, and how reaſons of ſtate would quite blaſt al thoſe hopes which he had given me. I was in a long diſpute with my ſelf; but at laſt ſome good genius opened my eyes, and let me ſee how all that Ardilan ſaid unto me was only tricks and falſities. I reſolved therefore by the advice of Clotilda to put him to the tryal, to the end I might no longer be deluded: ſo one night when Duriana by the inſtigation of the ſubtle Ardilan was harping upon the old ſtring, and preſſing me according to her cuſtom, to hearken unto the Kings motion. Duriana (ſaid I unto her) do you think. Ardilan is honeſt, and ſpeaks truth? Ah Madam, anſwered ſhe, I dare ſwear he had rather dye a hundred deaths then tell one lye; I believe (ſaid I unto her) you are miſtaken in him, and am confident he does but mock both you and me; and to ſhew you that I have good intelligence, did he not promiſe to marry you? Indeed he did, anſwered ſhe, but Madam, alwayes with a condition of your leave. Well (ſaid I) but if he be not a deluder, why does he not make good his promiſe? Madam, ſaid ſhe, I never urged him unto it, but I believe, that as ſoon as I ſhall deſire ſuch a thing, he will be as forward to embrace ſuch a motion as my ſelf. Well Duriana (replied I) by little things we do often come to the knowledge of the greater; if Ardilan ſhould prove falſe in his promiſe to you, is it not probable he is likewiſe falſe in all his negotiations concerning me? Moſt undoubtedly true, anſwered ſhe. Then, replied I, to try whether all he has ſpoken from the King be true, I would have you preſſe him to marry you; and tell him, by way of excuſe, that all your fellow ſervants and Clotilda alſo diſlikes of the familiarity betwixt you, and therefore it is neceſſary that he either keep his promiſe in marrying you, or elſe withdraw himſelf abſolutely from you; I am moſt confident, that this propoſition will ſtartle him, and make him quickly very cold in the matter. I cannot imagine (ſaid Duriana) that ſuch a man as he ſhould fail in his promiſe; that which moſt grieves me, is, that I muſt by this marriage loſe your ſervice, which is the greateſt grief that can come unto me. As ſhe uttered theſe words, tears began to trickle from her eyes: and I could not chuſe but ſmile at her ſimplicity; nay, nay, ſaid I, never cry for the matter, I warrant you, your marriage with Ardilan will never part us.

Now ſee the conſequence; Duriana ſpoke to Ardilan the next time ſhe ſaw him, as I had commanded her: and though he was as ſubtle a fellow as any was about the Court, yet was he ſo damped at her ſpeech, that he was not able to anſwer one word; at laſt, he recollected himſelf, and asked her, who gave her that counſel? Thoſe that gave it me (anſwered ſhe) will never deceive me, and is ſorry to hear what reports are raiſed concerning our familiarity: do not think that you are exempt from cenſure more then I, for they ſay, you intend to deceive me which I cannot believe; but reports go that you make addreſſe unto me, only to make me an inſtrument of delivering the Kings meſſage unto Dorinde. Oh Heavens, anſwered the cunning man, certainly you have devulged the Kings ſecrets unto ſome or other, and by this means have for ever ruined me in the opinion of my Maſter: Do not think me ſo indiſcreet (anſwered Duriana) but it is true, I could not tel Dorinde thoſe things which you deſired me, but I muſt alſo tell her my Author: And is it Dorinde (replied he) who gave you counſel to ſpeak thus unto me? Suppoſe it he (ſaid Duriana) or whoever elſe, it was good; for I know that moſt of my fellow ſervants do grumble extreamly at our ſecret familiarity. [Page] The reaſon of that is, replied he, becauſe they are ignorant of our intention: Well, well, anſwered ſhe, however they have an ill opinion of me, and if you have any mind to marry me do it quickly; for to tell you truly, Clotilda is offended at me, and does not like I ſhould live in that manner: He ſtood ſilent a long while, and fixed his eyes upon the ground, which offended Duriana extreamly, and moved her to ſay, what is the reaſon Ardilan you do not anſwer me? Is the news ſo bad you cannot endure to hear it; I thought that when I made this motion you would have entertained it with open arms, and given Heaven thanks for it; but on the contrary, you are as mute as if you were tongue tyed. Duriana (anſwered Ardilan) the ſilence which you obſerve in me, and which makes you ſuſpect my good will towards you, does not proceed from that cauſe which you imagine, but from abundance of difficulty which I do foreſee in the buſineſs, and which you your ſelf will confeſſe. When I acquainted the King with my deſires of marrying you, he told me, that as ſoon as I was once married, I would then no longer care for the love which he bore unto Dorinde; and when I vowed the contrary unto him, no, no, replied he, I know better then you do how the enjoyment of the party loved, will take up the mind of a man: and if it ſhould do the like by you, then I am no better then dead; for unto whom then can I ſpeak concerning this buſineſſe? and therefore I do poſitively command you, as you value my Love, not to think upon any marriage, until mine be paſt, But Duriana (ſaid he and took her hand) be aſſured that ere it be long I will give you your deſired ſatisfaction. Duriana, ſmelling his falſhood, and not being able to diſſemble her diſpleaſure; if it be ſo (ſaid ſhe) that the King does really intend to marry Dorinde, why does he not do it? Where is the ſtick? Oh Duriana (anſwered he) the affaires of Kings are not ſo ſoon diſpatched, as the affaires of a private perſon: A great Prince has conſiderations of his eſtate and good of his people, which we cannot dive into. Did you but know what affection the King has unto Dorinde, you would wonder at it, as I have done many a time; but he cannot nor ought not lay aſide all other conſiderations, and ruſh haſtily upon marriage: but on the contrary he is Wiſe and Prudent, and can lay aſide his paſſion, until he has put every thing in order, and ſo as he may enjoy his contentments without any danger or inconveniency: believe it, that when the time is fit, he will not need any Solicitor, nor any to put him in mind of Dorinde, for his love unto her, is enough to bring her into his memory. Then Duriana finding that the advice which I gave her was but too true. Well Ardilan (ſaid ſhe unto him) I am ſo little verſed in the buſineſs of State, that I will leave it unto thoſe who know how to manage it; but ſince you cannot marry me until the King be married; and ſince his marriage cannot be accompliſhed until buſineſs of State gives him leave, I think it fit that you ſee me no more, nor ſpeak unto me concerning Dorinde until the Wiſdome of the King hath ſet all his State affairs in order, ſo as he may have leaſure to make good his word, and give you leave to make good yours. Upon this not ſtaying for his anſwer, ſhe came into my Chamber in a pelting chaſe againſt Ardilan, and againſt the King, and told me her whole Diſcourſe in ſuch a paſſionate manner, that I could not chuſe but laugh at her anger. But ſee how fortune was bent to diſturb my tranquility; and to ſhower miſeries upon me: Duriana as ſhe talked with Ardilan, and pulled her handkerchief out of her pocket; ſhe pulled out alſo the paper of Verſes which Sigiſmond ſent unto me; and which ſhe unknown to me had taken out of my pocket, as ſhe looked for my handkerchief to be waſhed. This paper being but little, and ſhe half out of her wits, ſhe dropt it on the ground as ſhe came away from him. The crafty fellow, did preſently take it up, and went away with it as faſt as he could to his lodging: there unſeen by any, he unfolded the paper, and read it over ſeveral times, but could not judge who write it, nor to whom it was directed; yet he had a ſtrong opinion that it was intended either unto her or unto me; and to which of theſe two ſoever it was, it would ſerve him for a good excuſe to the King concerning his negotiation. To loſe no time therefore, he went as faſt as he could to Gondebaut, from whom he did not conceal a ſillable of his conference with Duriana: after a long diſcourſe together, and when the Kings hopes were [Page] all blaſted, Ardilan continued thus; I cannot imagine Sir what divel it is, that thus thwarts your deſires: I cannot think it to be Clotilda, for I hold her to be more diſcreet and better adviſed then to commit ſuch a fault: and beſides her obligations unto you are ſo great; as it were the height of ingratitude if ſhe offer to diſpleaſe you in any thing; but yet it is very ſtrange▪ yonder fool Duriana as ſhe pulled out her handkerchief did drope this paper, which unſeen to her I took up, and by it, I find that there is ſome lurking Lover or other that courts either her or Dorinde: I know not the hand, but you may ſee Sir whether you can pick any more out of it then I can. Upon this the King took it, and no ſooner caſt his eye upon it but he knew it to be the hand of the Prince Sigiſmond: Oh Ardilan (ſaid he in a great fury) wonder no more from whence the alteration in Dorinde proceeds; It is Sigiſmond that loves her, and doubtleſſe ſhe loves him alſo: heer's his hand, and from hence Durianas diſcourſe was grounded. Upon this laying the paper down upon the Table, and folding his arms together he began to walk a great pace up and down the Chamber, and was a long quarter of an hour before he uttered one word. At laſt in a great rage, I will make them both repent it (ſaid he) and if I do not puniſh them according to their deſerts, let me no longer be taken for King Gondebaut. And to begin, go Ardilan (ſaid he) go immediately unto Clotilda, and tell her from me that I underſtand Dorindes behaviour is ſo ſcandalous and ſhameful, as I would have her ſend her away this very night unto Arcingentorix her father, and let her underſtand the reaſon why I would not have her entertain her any longer: From thence go unto Sigiſmond, and command him from me to retire himſelf into Gallogurio; unto which place I confine him until he further hear my pleaſure: bid him begone in the morning before day, and let none ſeen him; and that if he fail in my commands, I will put him into a place where he ſhall lear his duty. Afterwards, beginning to walk again, ſtamping his foot againſt the floor, and pulling his hat over his eyes, he uſed all the actions of a diſtracted perſon. Ardilan ſeeing him in this condition, he was the moſt perplexed man in the world: for he foreſaw, that to carry theſe meſſages unto Sigiſmond and Clotilda, would be his ruine: and on the other ſide, not to do the Kings commands was worſe, and more certain ruine; ſo as he knew not which way to turn himſelf, and repented heartly that ever he ſhewed this paper unto the King.

There was none in the chamber, but the King and Ardilan; but in the Wardrob which was cloſe by, it fortuned that Sigiſmonds intelligencer was there, who hearing the name of Sigiſmond, began to hearken very attentively unto what the King ſaid; and heard the harſh command which the King impoſed upon Ardilan; of which he thought to acquaint Sigiſmond immediately; and in order to that he went down a back pair of ſtairs and ran as faſt as he could to the young Prince, who he found in his Cloſet.

Sir, ſaid he unto him, I made all the haſt I could, to advertiſe you of a thing which your prudence muſt prevent, otherwiſe, I fear a great ſtorm will fall upon us. I underſtand that the King is extreamly in Love with Dorinde, and Ardilan is his Agent in the buſineſs, who brought him a paper of Verſes which you had writ unto Dorinde: and becauſe Duriana, Dorindes Chamber-maid, gave Ardilan ſome anſwer contrary to her cuſtom, the King conceives the reaſon of it to be from Dorindes loving you: you know Sir, that no paſſion is more violent then jealouſie in Love; and the King is entered into ſuch a paſſionate anger againſt you and againſt her, as he has commanded Ardilan, to did Clotilda from him, to ſend away Dorinde immediately unto Arcingentorix her Father, and to tell her withal that her behaviour is ſo ſcandalous, that he would not have ſuch a one to keep her company; Is it poſſible (ſaid the young Prince) that the King ſhould be ſo far tranſported with paſſion, as to commit ſo great injuſtice againſt that wiſe Woman? Nay Sir, replied the man, this is not all, his anger does reflect alſo upon you: Againſt me? (ſaid the Prince) yes Sir, ſaid the man, againſt you, and I cannot tell whether or no I dare acquaint you; Speak freely, replied the Prince, and fear not that any thing can anger me more, then the diſgrace which is prepared for Dorinde. Then Sir, continued the man, he has commanded Ardilan [Page] to come unto you, and bid you from him, depart to morrow before day and confine your ſelf unto Gallo-Liguria, till you receive his farther commands; adding ſuch menace unto his meſſage, as I cannot well tell whether or no he be in his right ſenſes.

Friend (ſaid the Prince) I hope the Kings anger will wear away with time, and haply he means not ſo ill as he ſays; however, I thank you heartily for the pains you have in my behalf, I deſire you to continue it, and believe in that I ſhall die very young if you die unrewarded: Go therefore, and hear what further news, and advertiſe me with all ſpeed, that I may prepare as good remedies as I can.

Thus they parted; and Sigiſmond came to me in ſuch a rage againſt Gondebaut, that had not I reſtrained him, I think he had gone beyond the reſpects of a ſon due to a Father; and I muſt needs confeſs, that this action of this young Prince, did infinitely pleaſe me. Dorinde (ſaid he unto me, after he had told me all he heard) I ſee that my affection unto you procures you all this miſery, and my misfortune is the cauſe of yours: But let me tell you my opinion, which is. That I do not think the Kings anger proceeds only from the love he ſee. I bear unto you, but much more from the good will he fears you bear unto me; and were I as happy as that his fears were true, I would give you the ſame counſel that I will take my ſelf. You may be aſſured, Sir, ſaid I unto him, that your good will has obliged me to honour you, as I ought to do. Honour (anſwered he) I do look for from thoſe who muſt hereafter be my ſubjects; but from Dorinde, I require love. If that word, replied I, were handſome in the mouth of a woman, I think (to content you) I ſhould ſpeak it. Dorinde, replied he preſently, be aſſured that my affection unto you is ſuch, as I had rather die, then entertain any thoughts which are diſhonourable to you; and ſince you are pleaſed to give me this teſtimony of your good will, I am fully contented and ſhall from this hour, think my ſelf the happieſt man that lives: and I am reſolved, my Faireſt, in deſpite of the King, never to call him Father; and will in ſpite of him, love you double to what I did before: and deareſt Dorinde, if you do love me, put you on the ſame reſolution. Sir, anſwered I, I do proteſt to love you in ſpite of all the world, as much as my honour will give me leave. Then did I ſee in this young Prince ſuch a ſudden and great alteration, as aſſured me of the contentment which my words did give unto him; but the expreſſions which he uſed at the ſame time, did much more aſſure me. For my part (ſaid he unto me, and took my hand) I do promiſe and vow unto you, my deareſt Dorinde, by all that is moſt ſacred and holy, that I will endeavour to the very utmoſt of my power, never to have any other wife but you: and were it in my free diſpoſe, I would this very hour receive you as my wife, but ſince my will does depend upon another, I cannot, unleſs I ſhould abuſe you, ſay any more; only I beſeech you (continued he, and put a Ring upon my finger) to take and keep this Ring as a pledge of what I now do promiſe. and more, that I will never marry, unleſs your bad Fortune conſtrain you to marry before me. Sir, ſaid I unto him, and bluſhed for ſhame, though I never receive any other contentment then this honour of your love, yet I ſhall eſteem my ſelf, as long as I live, the happieſt woman that ever was; and in teſtimony of this, I take this Ring, with the ſame proteſtations and vows that you have made. But Sir (continued I) notice will be taken of our actions, and therefore (I beſeech you) let us break off diſcourſe. Now, my Faireſt (ſaid he unto me) I have ſo much intereſt in you, as I muſt needs be careful of any thing that concerns you, and therefore I cannot brook that the fury of the Kings paſſion ſhould offer this injury unto you: if you think it expedient, I will tell him as much to his face, and will not ſtartle at all his anger; for it is no ſuch capital crime to love a fair Lady: I do believe that at the firſt he will be extreamly angry at it, but he will cool again at laſt, and become himſelf; then he cannot chuſe but confeſs, that the equality of our ages pleads more reaſon to love each other, then he has to think, that the flowers in your fair face will ever grow in the winter of his age. Oh Sir, ſaid I unto him, take heed of the fury of a King. Deareſt (anſwered he) we will uſe all the prudence that we can; but the very truth is, I value not any miſery that can full out, [Page] ſo Dorinde be not compriſed in it. Upon this, without ſtay for any anſwer, he went away to enquire what news of the King, who in the mean time was in cloſe counſel with that arch Traytor Ardilan: for as ſoon as ever Sigiſmonds intelligencer was gone, the King turning about, and ſeeing Ardilan ſtill there? How now? ſaid he unto him, are not you gone yet whither I commanded you? Sir, anſwered be, I ſtay to know whether you will pleaſe to command me any thing elſe: No, no, replied he, but go immediately and execute my Will. Ardilan then drawing neerer him, But Sir, ſaid he unto him, If the Prince ſhould ask me the reaſon why you ſend him this command, what ſhall I ſay? Tell him (replied Gondebaut, It is for his diſ-reſpect of me in the buſineſs concerning Dorinde; and to ſtop his mouth if he offer to deny it, take that paper that lies upon the Table, ſhew it him. Sir, ſaid Ardilan, and took the paper, I know what anſwer he will make, and if you pleaſe I will tell you. What anſwer can he make (ſaid the King) but only confeſs his fault, or tell a lye? No Sir, replied Ardilan. not lye neither; for he will ſay that he never knew of your love to Dorinde; if he had, that he would never have offered it: And truly Sir, it is impoſſible he ſhould: for the matter has been carried ſo cloſe, that I believe none in the world knows it, but only You, Dorinde, Dariana, and I: and ſince it is ſo, me-thinks his crime not ſo great, as at the firſt you thought it. What then (ſaid the King) would you have me to do? Upon this he began to walk again, but a little more calmly then at the firſt. Ardilan ſeeing the Kings anger begin to cool; Sir (ſaid he unto him and ſmiled) I could never have believed that great Kings could ever have loved ſo perfectly as I ſee you do; I am confident you are not a little ſenſible of it: for I ſee a little blow makes a great wound in you, elſe you would never let a poor ſilly paper of verſes, which perhaps were writ without deſigne, only to paſs away the time, to put you into ſuch a ſtrange diſorder: Pardon me Sir, if I ſay you were a little too haſty. Well, well (ſaid the King) but Ardilan, you have no reaſon to blame me for a fault which you are guilty of your ſelf; for was it not you that told me firſt, Sigiſmond loved Dorinde, and that this was the only reaſon of her rejecting me? True Sir (ſaid Ardilan) I did ſay ſo, but it was only out of opinion; and I muſt confeſs, had I thought it would have thus offended you, I ſhould not have acquainted you with it, till I was better informed: for Sir, ſee into what a ſtrange confuſion you are ready to bring every thing, for to ruine all your hopes in the main buſineſs: Secondly to blaſt the honour of Dorinde, and all her Family. Thirdly, To ſcandal the houſe of the Princeſs Clotilda? And laſtly, To ruine your own Son. But now, I hope your goodneſs and prudence, which hath furmounted the fury of this violent paſſion, will denote this day to be the happieſt of all your Raigne; for on it you have obtained the greateſt victory that ever youd id in all your life; for you have overcome your ſelf. Ardilan continued on his flatteries, and as we underſtood by Sigiſmonds Intelligencer, at laſt concluded thus: Now Sir, this is my opinion upon the whole matter, If you ſhould advertiſe the Prince of his affection unto Dorinde, and deſire him for your ſake to retire himſelf from that affection, and keep the matter ſecret; if he after this overture ſhould ſtill continue, then had you juſt cauſe to complain againſt him for his ſmall reſpect of you: But however you have no cauſe, nor colour of a cauſe to blame Dorinde, before you know whether ſhe loves him or no: for Lovers do often convey ſuch papers unto their Miſtriſſes, and they not know from whence they came: I ſhould adviſe therefore, that Clotilda forbid her from you, from having any more talk with him, or receiving any more preſents from him; after this, they are both without excuſe if they continue.

This was the advice of Ardilan, who added ſtill more expreſſions by way of explanation: and the King who had a great confidence in him, after ſome conſideration, did approve of it; and thereupon commanded him to go preſently and put what he had propoſed in execution; which he did with more alacrity then he ſhould the firſt commands. He went therefore firſt to the Princeſs, unto whom he made known the opinion which the King had of Sigiſmonds addreſs unto Dorinde; and to ſhew her upon what grounds it was, he ſhewed her thoſe verſes which Dariana loſt; at which the Princeſs was much amazed: yet like a wiſe and [Page] prudent Princeſs, ſhe anſwered, That perhaps thoſe verſes were compoſed without any deſigne, but however ſhe would obey the Kings commands.

As fortune was, Sigiſmond was not then in the Town, being gone after dinner to hunt towards the Forreſt of Eri [...]u; and at his return, it was always his cuſtom to alight from his horſe at Clotildas houſe. And becauſe it was very late before he did return, Ardilan could not ſpeak with him that night: In the mean time, Clotilda who loved the Prince no leſs then he did her, as ſoon as Supper was done, ſhe took him aſide, and acquainted him with the Kings meſſage by Ardilan: Then, Brother (ſaid ſhe and ſmiled) I ſhould be angry with yuu, if I thought you had thus deceived me. Siſter (anſwered he very faintly) you have very much obliged me in this; but be pleaſed to let me anſwer unto this in the preſence of Dorinde her ſelf. Clotilda who had an opinion that he would clear all doubts, did preſently call me; and drawing us as far off as ſhe could from the reſt that were in the chamber, The Prince began thus, in as low a voice as he could, left any ſhould hear.

Siſter (ſaid he) I had no mind to anſwer unto your queſtion, but in the preſence of her who is moſt intereſſed in it, to the end the anſwer which I ſhall make may be ſooner credited, and ſhe exempted from all ſuſpition of diſſimulation. You are let underſtand, that the King knows I love Dorinde, and that ſhe entertains my affection, and thereupon will have you to forbid this fair one, not only from entertaining my love, but alſo that I muſt never ſpeak unto her; and that the ground of all this is, ſome Verſes which I writ, and which Dariana loſt: I think this is all the meſſage which the King did ſend unto you, upon which you have grounded your queſtion, to wit, whether it be true that we do love each other or no? Unto this I can return no other anſwer but this, and bid you look well upon Dorinde, then tell me whether it be poſſible to look upon her, and not love her. If this be a fault, Siſter, it is yours, who has added unto her Beauty many excellencies and per [...]ections by your good education and converſe: If it be a fault to love one of ſuch ſuperlative endowments then, You and Nature muſt plead my excuſe. But I muſt ſay further yet, That the honour and reſpect which I owe unto you, ſhall never receive the leaſt blemiſh by this affection; Proteſting by Hercules, and all that have power to puniſh perjury, that I had rather die, then have any attempts upon her that may in the leaſt degree ſtain her honour▪ This Siſter, in anſwer to your Queſtion. And now as to the Kings meſſage, who thinks by theſe Forbiddings to divert me from this affection: I do declare unto, and I beſeech you tell him as much when next you ſpeak with him, That all the whole Univerſe together, is not able to hinder me from loving Dorinde; That ſhe muſt not ſpeak unto me, but fly me, and keep at a diſtance from me, this may indeed put me to abundance of grief and torment, but never whilſt I breath divert me from that laſting affection which I have unto her▪ This (Siſter) is a moſt true anſwer unto the Queſtion which you asked: Now it is Dorindes part to anſwer the King, as concerning her ſelf.

The young Prince ſpoke this in ſuch an emphatical manner, that Clotilda ſmiled. Truly Brother (ſaid ſhe) a moſt excellent invention to divert Dorinde from the Kings love: But you Dorinde (ſaid ſhe, and turned towards me) what anſwer do you give unto all this that the Prince hath ſaid? Madam, anſwered I, and bluſhed, I cannot give any anſwer, but that I do not (yet I wiſh I did) merit ſo great an honour. How? replied Clotilda, Dare you preſume to love the Prince Sigiſmond, and would have him love you again? The young Prince then interrupted, for he ſaw that modeſty would not permit me to ſpeak. Siſter, ſaid he, you can hardly have a more ample declaration then this Fair one hath given you; but I will make it for us both, and I think ſhe will ſecond me. Then taking my hand, See Siſter this Ring (ſaid he unto her) which Dorinde wears; I did give it unto her as a Pledge, that if I could marry her at this very inſtant, I would: but being under the authority of a Father, and not able to diſpoſe of my ſelf, without offence to the Laws of God and man, I will ſtay until I have his conſent, or till time diſpence with me from that duty. The Princeſs hearing this, ſtood amazed, and in ſuch a confuſion, that ſhe did nothing but look, ſomtimes upon one, and ſomtimes [Page] upon another, not being able to ſpeak one word; but at the laſt after a long muſe, ſhe recollected her ſelf, and turning towards the Prince, Tru [...]y Brother (ſaid ſhe unto him) were not my love above all injuries, I ſhould be exceedingly angry with you for thus contracting your ſelf with one who is in my ſervice, without my knowledge. Siſter, replied the Prince, If I have offended you, I muſt heartily beg your pardon; and above all, I moſt earneſtly beſeech you to let all the blame reflect upon me, and nothing upon this Fair one; and if my life, or any thing elſe will expiate the crime, I am here moſt ready to obey whatſoever you pleaſe to command: only I beg of you, as you love me, not to be angry in the leaſt manner with Dorinde: for I aſſure you Siſter, that if we have offended, it was only in point of time; for we were both of us fully reſolved to acquaint you and put our ſelves into your hands. But dear Siſter (continued he) muſt I be ſo unhappy as to incur your diſpleaſure? I ſwear by the great Tautates, I never entertained the leaſt thought but which conducted to honour and reſpect you; ſo as ſhould I loſe your favour, I ſhould think my ſelf undone. But Brother, replied the Prineſs, Why did you not acquaint me with your intention at the firſt? At the firſt, I could not, replied the Prince, becauſe then I could not tell whether I ſhould love her, or whether ſhe would entertain my affection. But ſince (ſaid Clotilda) why did you not tell me, when you were aſſured of both? And ſhe, who talked ſo freely with me concerning the Kings addreſs, why did not ſhe as well acquaint me with yours? Siſter, replied the Prince, If ever you chance to love any one, you will anſwer this Queſtion: You muſt know, that when one loves, it is not a work that is begun with deſigne: He that walks upon a piece of Ice, do you think his deſigne is to fall? No, it is a ſurprize cauſed by the ſlipperineſs of the Ice: ſo it is in Love, When one ſees a Beauty, this Beauty does ſurprize, and makes us inſenſibly glide into love, and we are become Lovers, before ere we thought of being in love. We do proteſt unto you Siſter, and I can anſwer for this Fair one as well as for my ſelf, that within theſe two days we did not think it would ever have proceeded ſo far; but the Intelligence which we had that the King would by extream tyrannry break off all affection betwixt us, was the cauſe of our reſolution to contract: and it was no ſooner reſolv'd upon, but we intended to acquaint you, and follow your wiſe and prudent advice in every thing; and ſorry we are you knew it no ſooner. But ſiſter, the thing is paſt and done, and now all counſel comes too late, and we can do nothing elſe but moſt earneſtly beg your pardon.

Brother, ſaid the Princeſs, two things do give me great ſatisfaction: The one is, to ſee the confidence that you have in me, in freely acquainting me with a buſineſs, which if known to the King, would certainly be very prejudicial to you: and the other is, To ſee your affection aim at a noble and honourable end; and in this I cannot charge you with any fault: But all the errour that has been committed, is in Dorinde, who knew very well that it was her duty to tell me; ſhe could be free enough in acquainting me with the Kings Courtſhip, but concealed yours ſo ſubtilly, that God knows whether I ſhould ever have known it, but for the fooliſh Duriana; yet Brother, for your ſake, I will not only pardon her, but more, I promiſe you both to forget it; or if I do remember it, it ſhall be only to aſſiſt you as much as I can, for I do foreſee a great controverſie to enſue betwixt the King and you. Siſter, ſaid the Prince, this Fair one and I are infinitely obliged unto you for your pardon, and promiſed aſſiſtance; and as for the King, we have armed our ſelves with reſolution to reſiſt all that he can do againſt us: we are not culpable of any capital crimes: If the King tranſgreſs the bounds of a Father to a Son, I ſhall tranſgreſs the bounds of a ſon to a Father; and ſince we have right on our ſide, we ſhall be more contented then you can imagine.

The Prince after this, and ſome expreſſions of thanks, would have gone away, becauſe he was weary with hunting, but Clotilda ſtayed him; Brother (ſaid ſhe) before you go, let us adviſe what I ſhould ſay unto the King concerning the meſſage which Ardilan brought unto me from him. Siſter (ſaid the Prince, you may tell him, if you pleaſe, That you have charged Dorinde according to his command, and that ſhe anſwered, that ſhe durſt not ſtand mute when I ſpoke unto her, nor [Page] much leſs forbid me from ſpeaking to her: That for her part, ſhe would neve [...] court me, nor durſt ſhe ſhun me; for Siſter, I have a great deſire the King ſhoul [...] ſpeak unto me. Then prepare your ſelf for it, ſaid Clotilda, for I am confiden [...] that he will either ſend for you, or ſend Ardilan with a meſſage to you; which if he do, I beſeech you conſider that Gondebaut is your King, and more, that he is the Father of Prince Sigiſmond. Upon this he left her, and went to reſt himſelf, if at the leaſt this news would give him leave.

In the morning, Ardilan was ſo early at the houſe of Sigiſmond, that he found him in bed; and ſaying that he came from the King, he was preſently admitted. Ardilan deſiring that none might hear what he ſaid, beſeeched the Prince to command all the ſervants to with-draw, which Sigiſmond did; and then he began thus.

I come Sir, from the King your Father, to communicate unto you ſome news which he hath received from King Alerick, and which he thinks it requiſite to acquaint you withal. Ardilan made this his Prologue by command from Gondebaut, who thought it good to begin with that preamble. Sigiſmond who was no lover of Ardilan, did anſwer with a ſmile; I thought Ardilan your ſervice of the King had been only in negotiations of love; but I ſee you are become a Stateſman, ſince the King communicates unto you ſuch Forreign News. Ardilan who was doubtleſs as ſubtle a man as any of his time, did very well underſtand the Princes meaning: but ſeeming to take no notice of it, Truly Sit, ſaid he unto the Prince, you are not much beſide the mark, for the meſſage which I am to deliver, is indeed matter of Love: for the King has received an anſwer from his Ambaſſadors which he ſent unto the King of the Viſigots, to treat about a marriage betwixt you and one of his daughters; that they have received a very good anſwer, and hope to bring the matter to a good concluſion. Now the King who ſtudies your welfare and grandeur, has ſent me to acquaint you with it, to the end you may prepare your ſelf for a voyage which he would have you make in an equipage beſitting the Burgundian Prince.

The Prince Sigiſmond who was advertiſed betimes in the morning of all the ſtratagem, did ask Ardilan where thoſe Letters from the Ambaſſadors were. The King keeps them, replied Ardilan, becauſe (as I believe) they contain ſome things which he would have kept ſecret from me. How Ardilan, replied the Prince) does the King keep any thing ſecret from you? Surely it is not ſo; for me-thinks he who does not hide his moſt ſecret thoughts from you, ſhould hide nothing elſe. Does not the King Sir (ſaid Ardilan) hide his moſt ſecret thoughts from me, I beſeech you Sir, who tells you theſe Tales? Why all the Court can tell it (anſwered Sigiſmond: Witneſe the marriage that you did negotiate for him ſo ſlily: Witneſs the poor Horſe that you lamed, and witneſs all your negotiations unto the Princeſs Clotilda, to aſſiſt you in your deſigns; and would you now make me believe that the King will not truſt you with a Letter? No, no Ardilan, I am too neer a neighbour to you to be ignorant what credit you have with him, I would to God his Son had as much. Ardilan hearing this, was ſo blank'd, that he knew not what to anſwer; but like a man of a quick and preſent wit, he ſoon recollected himſelf, and thought it beſt to turn all to Rallery, and ſo divert the diſcourſe. Ah Sir (ſaid he) I ſee you are pleaſed to make your ſelf merry theſe Bacchanalian days, when every one ſtrives to be pleaſant; but I am ſerious, and in good earneſt. Be pleaſed Sir to know, that what I ſay does neerly concern your eſtate: You have no Neighbours whom you need to fear, but Thierry, Alarick, and the King of the Franks; As for Thierry, you have alliance with him already: As for the King of Franks, he is a Neighbour to be feared, and watches his opportunity to make attempts upon your Dominions, he wants neither will nor means to do it: And this conſideration invited the King your father to ſend his Ambaſſadors unto the King of the Viſigots, whoſe power once joyned with yours, and the Oſtrogots is ſuch, as will give a check unto all the ambitious deſigns which the Franks can have againſt you. Now Sir, this Treaty is brought to as good a period as you can deſire; but it ſeems in lieu of being glad, you mock at it, as if it did not concern you. Ardilan (anſwer [...]d the Prince in a ſcornful manner) I muſt confeſs you are [Page] a perſon of great policy, and my Father does you abundance of wrong if he does not make you his prime Counſellor of State: But as for me, who am not ſo knowing as you are, I can give no other anſwer but this, that I think it more expedient for the King to negotiate his own marriage then mine; for it is but reaſon he ſhould marry before me, being my elder: You Ardilan can beſt inſtruct him, and tranſact it for him: Upon this he drew his Curtain, turned away, and would not talk any longer with him.

Ardilan, who extreamly feared the anger of Sigiſmond, after he had waited a while, was conſtrained to go away without any diſcourſe of the love which he bore unto me, and much leſs of the Kings, unto whom he related word for word all that the Prince had ſaid unto him; and afterwards added, Give me leave to tell you Sir, ſaid he, that I think there is none can compoſe theſe diſorders better then the Princeſs Clotilda: For firſt, ſhe has the ſole power over Dorinde. And ſecondly, I ſee the Prince does love her, and has a great confidence in her. If ſhe have any power, replied the King. I make no queſtion but ſhe will employ it, when I command her, for ſhe dare not diſpleaſe me; ſhe knows her obligations to me, and what good or harm I am able to do her: But my greateſt fear is, that Dorinde is taken with the ſpringing youth of young Sigiſmond: and if ſo, then there is no other remedy but to ſever them aſunder.

Sigiſmonds Intelligence had his ear liſtning unto all he ſaid, and therefore did hear the Kings reſolution, which was, that he himſelf would ſpeak unto Clotilda, and command her to divert Sigiſmonds affection from me. As ſoon as the Prince was advertized of this, he went unto Clotilda, and acquainted her with all the diſcourſe betwixt him and Ardilan, and afterwards added. Now Siſter, the King intends to come unto you and to command you to uſe your power in breaking off all amity betwixt Dorinde and me; for my part, I proteſt by heaven, that death ſhall ſooner ſeize upon me, then any ſeparation from her: and yet the cunning Ardilan, who loves neither you nor me, would make the King believe, that you have the abſolute power over Dorinde, and that you can do what you will with me: ſo as you muſt take good heed of the King, for he will employ you; and if all ſucceed not to his mind, he will be apt to do you ſome miſchief; the only remedy that I know, is to prevent him, I mean, that before he come to you, ſend you unto him, and beſeech him to let you come and communicate ſome affairs unto him, which are neceſſary he ſhould know; when you are with him, I would have you make a great complaint unto him againſt me, and my love to Dorinde, Beſeech him to employ all his prudence in preventing it; that for your part, you have done all you can, and all to no purpoſe, for when you ſpoke unto me of it, I told you plainly that I did love Dorinde, that it was a thing impoſſible ever to ſeparate me from her; and the worſt of all is, that you think Dorinde alſo loves me, and that things are gone ſo far, that you fear there is ſome promiſes paſt betwixt her and me.

I make no queſtion (continued the Prince) but the King will be very much incenſed againſt me; but Siſter, of two evils, the leſſer is to be choſen: ſhould his fury be turned towards you, it would be worſe; you know how he uſed Chilperick, the cruel death of Godomar, the maſſacres of his male children, the hard uſage of your Siſter Mutucuna, in cloyſtering her up amongſt the Veſtals: To be brief, Siſter, theſe bloody cruelties upon thoſe from whom you are deſcended, makes me extreamly fear his fury ſhould fall upon you: But for my part, what can he do but drive me out of his preſence as he would have done before? And I proteſt Clotilda, that I do ſo much abominate his violences, as were he not my father, and ſo conſequently I bound to honour and ſerve him, I ſhould ſooner deſire to be out of his ſight, then any ones living; ſo that his puniſhment will be a kind of a pleaſure unto me.

The Princeſs who did extreamly love Sigiſmond, as well becauſe he loved her, as becauſe of his many other good qualities, after many thanks unto him for his indulgent care of her, ſhe endeavoured by all her arguments and reaſons to divert him from his affection to me, demonſtrating unto him the great inconveniences he would draw upon himſelf by it; inſtancing the lowneſs of my quality, what a diſgraceful [Page] graceful alliance it would be to his Royal Family, how much it would diſpleaſe the King, hinting unto him the duty and obedience that he owed unto him as his Father, and as his King; Briefly, ſhe laid before him all the inconveniencies and diſcontents that would enſue upon it. Siſter (ſaid he) in anſwer unto all theſe conſiderations, I will uſe but one word, and that is, I Love: and did you but know the validity, extent, and power of this word, you would confeſs all theſe conſiderations to be poor and weak arguments to divert me from my unalterable reſolution. Since it is ſo, ſaid Clotilda, and ſince you adviſe me to it. I will talk with the King according to your directions, and will let you know his anſwer. Upon this, ſhe diſpatched one of her ſervants to the King immediately, according as it was reſolved upon.

Gondebaut hearing this meſſage, ſent her word, that he alſo had ſomthing to communicate unto her, and that after dinner he would come unto her. The Prince knowing this anſwer, and having no mind to be in the way, he took horſe, pretending to hunt; and ſo kept himſelf out of Town all the day.

Whilſt theſe things paſſed thus, Arcingenterix my father being very old, and fallen ſick of a Fever, he grew ſo ill, as being paſt hopes of life, he ſent unto Clotilda, to beſeech her that I might come and ſee him before he died: Upon this ſhe commanded me to go in all poſſible haſte, and to tell him from her, that ſhe would ſend him ſome things which haply might conduce to his preſervation, and thereupon gave me ſome excellent receipts, which I carried with me. My poor father, as ſoon as he ſaw me, and heard what the Princeſs had ſent unto him, he ſeemed to receive much contentment; and taking me by the hand, I hope (ſaid he unto me) Tautates will provide one that will be a ſtay unto thy youth, for now daughter reckon your ſelf without a father; and therefore beſeech the Princeſs from me, to have pity upon Dorinde, as upon an Orphan left to the wide wicked world, without any ſupport and aſſiſtance, but from God and her; it will be (tell her, a charitable office, and God will reward it double: after this, my father began to faint, notwithſtanding all remedies that could be applied, and in the night after he died.

The King in the interim, as ſoon as dinner was done, failed not to go unto the Princeſs; and taking her aſide, he began to make great complaints of the Prince; but ſhe who had been well inſtructed, prevented him, and told him, that ſhe had a very great deſire to talk with him about a buſineſs of great importance, in which ſhe moſt humbly beſeeched him to take ſome order: And thereupon ſhe related unto him how ſhe had chidden me for thoſe Verſes which were ſent unto me and which I had received unknown to her: Afterwards ſhe complained againſt the Prince Sigiſmond for tampering with one of her women; nay worſe, that ſhe had diſcovered an intimate affection betwixt us: Nay worſe then all that, ſhe was afraid the buſineſs was gone ſo far, that the Prince had engaged himſelf by ſome promiſes.

Oh Heavens! cryed out Gondebaut, has Sigiſmond engaged himſelf by promiſe unto Dorinde? Is he ſo far out of his wits? Sir, ſaid Clotilda, I will not abſolutely aſſure you of it, but ſome probable circumſtances induceth me to think ſo; and when you know as much as I do, I am confident you will concur with me in opinion. When you commanded me to forbid Dorinde from any ſpeech with the Prince, ſhe anſwered me, That if he came to her, ſhe could not drive him away: And when I asked her why ſhe received thoſe Verſes without my knowledge, ſhe replied. That the good will which the Prince was pleaſed to honour her withal, was to ſuch intentions as could not offend any. And when I urged her to tell me what thoſe intentions were; Madam (ſaid ſhe) the Prince can tell you better then I, if you pleaſe to ask him: and afterwards do what I could, I could not draw one word from her. This diſcourſe Sir, did exceedingly trouble me; and this morning when he was pleaſed to come unto me, I reſolved to ſpeak unto him as privately as I could; when I was urgent with him to diſcover the truth, and complained againſt the diſcourſe of Dorinde, he gave a cold faint anſwer, in theſe terms. Good Siſter, Do you love me as your Brother? And I anſwering, yes; Then Siſter, ſaid he, Love Dorinde as your Siſter: Judge Sir the meaning of theſe [Page] words: For any part, I was mute when I heard them, he went preſently away: and then I thought it my duty to acquaint you Sir, that you might take ſuch further order, as you prudence ſhall think fitteſt.

This News did ſo nettle the King, that though he was a man which could command himſelf well enough when he would, yet could he not chuſe but give great ſigns of his diſpleaſure: for after he ſtood a while mute, he grumbled to himſelf in a low voice; Is the heart of Sigiſmond ſo [...]aſe, as to marry one; whoſe higheſt honour is to ſerve ſuch a one as he ſhould marry? Dare he diſpoſe of himſelf without me? And, if he will needs marry without my approbation, muſt he needs make ſuch a misbecoming choice? This is ſuch a fault, as if I did not reſent it, I might be cenſured as dulpable as he is: And therefore I will make appear to all the world, that Gondebaut does not conſent unto the ſin of his Son. Then turning towards Clotilda; I thank you (ſaid he unto her) and think my ſelf much obliged unto you for your advertiſements; and to make it appear how kindly I take them, you ſhall obtain from me whatſoever you can deſire: I was very deſirous to talk with you about the ſame buſineſs, though I could not imagine things to be at this height; but I ſee you have prevented me, and are deſirous to turn this raſh inconſiderate young man from his deſtructive deſignes: if you continue thus obliging me, I ſhall ſet you in Sigiſmonds room, and he ſhall be as indifferent unto me, as the meaneſt man in my Dominions. Sir (anſwered Clotilda, and accompanied the King, who was going away) I can never do you ſuch ſervices as your goodneſs obligeth me unto: But Sir, I moſt humbly beſeech you not to deprive the Prince (my brother) of the honour of your favour, for a few extravagancies of youth, which doubtleſs he will repent, when he knows that they diſpleaſe you. Conſider Sir, he is your ſon, and young, and it is unto Fathers whom God has given wiſdom and prudence to inſtruct, not to deſtroy their children. Clotilda replied he, and took his leave, you are too wiſe for your young years; I would to heaven Sigiſmond would imitate you in obedience, or elſe that he were in his grave.

Then the King went preſently to his chamber, and related unto Ardilan all that Clotilda had told him: and after a thouſand menaces, ſomtimes againſt the Prince, and ſomtimes me, the Kings mind was ſo enflamed with two violent paſſions, Love, and Anger, that he could not poſſibly reſolve upon any ſetled courſe.

On the other ſide, the Prince being returned from hunting, he came preſently to the Princeſs, to know what had paſſed betwixt Gondebaut and her; and ſhe relating all that was ſaid and done; Siſter (ſaid he) I thank God with all my heart, that the anger of the King reflects only upon me, and that you are exempt: I ſhall now with a calm mind undergo whatſoever he will pleaſe to impoſe upon me▪ for though he lay the fault upon me, yet all the world will excuſe me; Then asking where I was, and being told that my Father was dead: If I durſt (ſaid he) I would go and help to lament her loſs, but ſince that is not permitted, Siſter (ſaid he) do you think it would be amiſs if I ſent unto her? No, anſwered the Princeſs, but I think it would be very prudently done. Then the Prince bade her goodnight, and went to his chamber, where he writ this Letter.

Prince SIGISMONDS Letter unto DORINDE.

I Know very well that for the loſs of ſuch a perſon, grief is ſo natural, that it were abſurd to diſſwade the Fair Dorinde from it: But though it be allowable, yet it is upon an implicite condition, of being in meaſure: for exceſsive ſorrow is not allowed for a Father, nor any elſe, except a moſt perfect Lover. Preſerve thoſe tears (my deareſt Dorinde) untill you have ſuch a loſs, which will not be till the death of Sigiſmond, who loves [Page] you infinitely beyond all dimenſions, and whoſe extream affection merits the like meaſure of Love from you again.

I received this Letter by a ſervant of the Princes, and I aſſure you my companions, I found the Proverb by experience true, which ſays, That Phyſick works good effects when the Patient has a good opinion of the Phyſitian: For believing that Sigiſmond was the only man that did love me; or to ſay better, the only man that was no deceiver, this ſhort letter was ſuch a comfort unto me, as wrought better effects upon my exceſſive ſorrow, then all other admonitions whatſoever: And beſides, I thought it an offence againſt our amity, if I did not do as he deſired me.

The King in the mean time whoſe mind was all night long upon this buſineſs, as ſoon as day appeared, he called unto Ardilan, who lay all that night in his chamber by expreſs command: and after he had complained againſt the Prince and me, but much more againſt me then the Prince; and after he had ſworn and proteſted that I was unworthy of that honour which he intended unto me, he ſaid, that now he hated me double to his love be [...]ore: he asked his opinion which way he might be revenged of me, and reclaim the Prince to his duty? To which Ardilan anſwered▪ Did I think Sir, that you were fallen from your affection unto this woman, I could adviſe a courſe which would have the two operations which you deſire. Know Ardilan, ſaid the King, that now I do extreamly hate her; and as I thought her fair and handſome before, ſo I do think her very ugly and ill-favoured now, inſomuch as I do much admire I ſhould find any thing in ſuch a face worthy of my thoughts, and am extreamly aſhamed I ſhould be ſo ſilly as to love her. Thanks be to God, Sir, ſaid Ardilan, that Truth triumphs over your paſſion; and to tell you truly Sir, I have admired a thouſand times that you ſhould ſo dote upon a woman, who was neither fair nor wiſe: Alas Sir, it was not any beauty or merit in her, and a madneſs in you, that blinded your eyes; and therefore you ought to render thanks unto the good genius that opened your eyes, and reſtored you to your ſenſes: Now Sir, ſince you are your ſelf again, this is the way to be fully revenged, and to recover the Prince out of that gulph which once had almoſt devoured you. You muſt force Dorinde to marry, for if ſhe do love the Prince, no puniſhment can be more ſharp; the Prince alſo will vex to ſee her whom he loved ſo dearly, in the arms of another, and be out of all hopes to ſee her his. But (anſwered Gondebaut) Dorinde will not conſent unto any marriage. Sir (replied this wicked fellow) Kings are the Tutors of their ſubjects; and as the Gods know better what is good for men then men themſelves do; ſo Kings (who are gods upon earth) do know what is good for their ſubjects better then they themſelves; and therefore if you do provide a husband for Dorinde, who will ſay that you have not provided that which was neceſſary for her? And if ſhe be ſtubborn, and will not marry him, who will blame you if you force her. The Phyſitian knows better what is good for the diſeaſe then the Patient; ſome Phyſick muſt be taken by force; and her father being dead, you may cover your deſigne with a cloak of piety, and will not ſee the childe of Arcingen [...]ori [...] without a Guardian: Beſides, there is a way to make her marry without uſing your Royal Authority. There is a Law Sir, which from the Viſigots is come to us, by which it is ordained, That the Father having made a promiſe of his daughter unto one, and die, ſhe being unmarried, his promiſe ſhall be made good after his death.

But Clotilda told me (replied the King) that there is ſome promiſes already paſt betwixt them. No matter for that (replied Ardilan) for you muſt know Sir, that there is another Law which ordains, that if a woman diſpoſe of her ſelf otherwiſe then as her Father would have her, both ſhe, and he who married her, ſhall be put into the hands of him to whom the Father did promiſe her, to be ſold or uſed as he pleaſeth: Since Sir, ſince theſe two Laws are in force, why may not you marry Dorinde unto Periander or Merindor, ſince Arcingentorix did promiſe unto them both: In the firſt place, ſend unto her, and let her know, that [Page] you will provide her a match for her contentment; that this your care proceeds from your love unto her father and her; and that you will give her the choice of one of thoſe two Cavaliers for a Husband: You may ſend the ſame meſſage unto others of her kinred, and ſo oblige them likewiſe; for it is no mean prudence in a Prince, to oblige many by one benefit; I am confident that if ſhe make a dor at the motion, her friends will perſwade her; and if ſhe be obſtinate, they will be the firſt that will blame her, and commend you though you ſhould compel her unto it by force: And then God knows what will become of her, when ſhe has none to ſupport her: For the Princeſs Clotilda, I dare ſay will have nothing to do with her, ſhe is betrer adviſed, and will not do any thing that ſhall diſpleaſe you. The King liked this advice, and reſolved upon it. He commanded Ardilan to go from him unto the Princeſs; who could give no other anſwer, but that ſhe would perſwade her with all the arguments that poſſibly ſhe could.

She ſent immediately to the Prince, to let him know ſhe would ſpeak with him, and when he came, ſhe acquainted him with the deſigne: for though ſhe ſaw much danger to her ſelf, ſhe would run the hazard, rather then do any thing that ſhould diſpleaſe him. Sigiſmond was much amazed at the deſigne; and the more, becauſe his Intelligencer failed him at this time; but the reaſon was, becauſe he was not preſent at that time when it was reſolved upon: but he came time enough to hear the King proteſt and ſwear. that he would marry Dorinde by fair means or by foul; and that if neither of thoſe two Cavaliers would accept of her, ſome other ſhould, though it were Ardilan himſelf.

The Prince hearing this news, and ſeeing the King had recourſe unto extream remedies, he thought that nothing would cure his extream violences, but extream reſolutions. He propoſed therefore unto Clotilda, for him and I to go out of Gondebauts Dominions, and there conſumm [...]te the marriage which he had promiſed unto me: But ſhe extreamly diſliking this courſe, thought it better for me to go alone, and ſhun the ſtorm which he had threatned, but he to remain ſtill with the King, and endeavour to perſwade the King unto reaſon. But when this reſolution of abſence was pitched upon, it was long in debate whether I ſhould go: for, beyond the Alpes I could not, becauſe they were allied with the Oſtrogots; To the Franks was leſs likely, becauſe they were all in ſuch combuſtion amongſt themſelves, about the new election of a King, that all was in diſorder there: Beſides, the Queen Methina was in ſuch neceſſity of aid and aſſiſtance, as it was not probable ſhe would entertain me againſt the will of ſo potent a King her Neighbour. As for the Viſigots, the journey was too long, for I was to paſs through all Spain; beſides, there being a Treaty about a marriage with Sigiſmond there was no ſafety for me in that place: At laſt, they concluded I ſhould go into Forreſts unto Amaſis, with whom Clotilda held much correſpondency: and becauſe they knew not whether the authority of Gondebaut would not deter her from giving me ſafe protection, they thought it expedient for me to diſguiſe my ſelf in this habit wherein you ſee me, to the end that if the protection of Amaſis did fail me, the ſolitary habitation among the Shepherdeſſes of Lignon might preſerve me unknown.

This reſolution being taken, the Princeſs ſent for me; and though the loſs of my father might well have pleaded my far longer abſence from Court, yet ſince ſhe ſent for me, I conceived it was upon ſome important occaſion. And therefore in the night time, I repaired to her, who as ſoon as ſhe ſaw me, ſhe carried me into her cloſet; where being alone together, and ſeeing me weep, Dorinde (ſaid ſhe) it is not now a time to weep and complain; you muſt arm your ſelf with a more couragious and generous reſolution. But conſider Dorinde, that in what condition ſoever we be, heaven never will afflict us more then we are able to bear, and therefore droop not, but rouſe up your ſpirit, and take courage, and then you ſhall ſee, that neither God, nor perſons of honour will never forſake you: The King gives you the choice of Periander or Merindor for a husband, and will by all means have you marry one of thoſe two; if you will not in good will accept of this, or if they refuſe, he is fully reſolved to make you marry Ardilan: See, Sweetheart, what need you have of courage and generous reſolution. How, [Page] Madam (anſwered I, and grew as pale as death) muſt I marry either one of thoſe two, or Ardilan? What Law is there for that? The ſame Law, replied ſhe; that the ſtronger will impoſe upon the weaker. He will have Sigiſmond marry a Princeſs, whom he pretends will bring great advantage; and he knows that he will never be perſwaded unto it, till you be married unto another; and therefore he is reſolved to ſacrifice you unto the marriage of his Son, and has given me in charge to tell you as much, and to know what you reſolve upon. Upon death, Madam (anſwered I preſently) yes the moſt cruel death that ever any Tyrant like himſelf invented.

Upon this, the Prince Sigiſmond knocked at the door, and interrupted us: Clotilda not knowing who it was, went her ſelf to open it; and ſeeing the Prince, Come Brother (ſaid ſhe unto him in a low voice) and ſee here a poor deſolate woman; and having ſhut the door, ſhe conducted him unto me all in tears. My deareſt Dorinde (ſaid he) comfort your ſelf with this, that he for whom you ſuffer this diſpleaſure, will help you to bear a ſhare, every tear you ſhed, is a drop of blood from his heart: But I vow by all that's ſacred, that neither the power of a King, or commands of a Father, ſhall ever make me ſhrink from my promiſe unto you. I know that Gondebaut intends to force an injurious marriage upon you, only becauſe he thinks that I will never marry till then; but he is groſly miſtaken if he think to bring his enterpize to paſs that way; for I will ſooner loſe my life, then conſent unto it; proteſting that if he do conſtrain you to marry againſt your will, he ſhall not ſurvive an hour after I hear of it. He would have proceeded further, but Clotilda interrupted him, ſaying, That when things are come to that height, as extream reſolutions muſt be taken, then perhaps none will blame you if you do ſo; but yet (thanks be to heaven) they are not, and therefore it is more requiſite to endeavour the prevention by prudence: It was upon this ſubject I was talking to this poor woman but now, and before I gave her my advice, I asked her what ſhe reſolved upon: Upon death replied ſhe again, and with as good a will as ever any deſired to live. Death, replied the Prince, is the laſt remedy; but before you have recourſe unto it, as I live, half of the Burgundians ſhall die in defence of ſo juſt a cauſe. Oh Sir, anſwered I, heaven forbid I ſhould be the cauſe of a War betwixt the Father and the Son, and it were better a thouſand times that Dorinde were in her grave. No, no, replied Clotilda, there is no neceſſity of having recourſe unto death, until there be no other remedy; nor is there any neceſſity of ſubmitting unto the unjuſt violences of a Tyrant, as long as they may be avoided; Heaven has given us prudence to preſerve our ſelves againſt ſuch deſigns: Let us therefore make uſe of it as we ought to do, and I aſſure my ſelf heaven will proſper our endeavours.

Upon this ſhe propoſed unto me what Sigiſmond and ſhe had before reſolved upon; and told me, that if I took this courſe, ſhe might be much aſſiſtant to me, becauſe there was very good correſpondency betwixt the ſage Amaſis and her, and that if upon any conſideration that Princeſs could not protect me, I might keep my ſelf concealed amongſt the Shepherdeſſes of Lignon, (Aſtrea and Diana) with whom I might live very happily, they being the faireſt, the moſt vertuous, and the beſt accompliſhed women in all Europe: And when I anſwered, that to fly from this unjuſt violence which was threatned, I would not only go into Forreſts, but into any other place of the world; and that my only fear was, that I ſhould not hit the way, or elſe be taken by ſome or other. The Prince anſwered, I will be your guard, and ſee you ſo ſafely conducted, that none dare do you any harm: Then turning towards the Princeſs, Siſter (ſaid he unto he) I beſeech you let her return unto her houſe, to take order for her departure, before any take notice of it; for if you approve of it, I conceive it beſt for her to be gone as ſoon as ſhe can, nor ſhall I be at reſt, till ſhe be out of that place where injuſtice is ſo predominant.

The Princeſs who pitied my misfortune, and was a true wiſher of my welfare, did willingly conſent unto it; and at parting, ſhe ſaid unto me, Remember Dorinde that you take your beſt Jewels with you, which are moſt portable, and may beſt be hidden; for Neceſſity is a monſter that has no Law, no ſhame, nor reaſon; [Page] and a woman above all ought to fear meeting with ſuch a fierce and dangerous beaſt. This counſel cauſed me (as ſoon as I came home) to ſeek out the beſt of my Jewels which were portable, of which I made a girdle in a linnen bag, and wore it about my Waſte: and as I was very buſie about it, the Prince having none with him but one man, in whom he had great confidence, came into my chamber; at which I was ſo ſurprized, as I ran into the next room, and locked up my ſelf: but conſidering the ſweet and diſcreet behaviour he always uſed towards me, I thought this flight from him was a kind of offence unto him, and that I had no manner of reaſon to fear him. I ſee Dorinde (ſaid he unto me) that my coming does put you into fears; but know, that my coming is to no other end, but to continue thoſe aſſurances which formerly I have given you of my unalterable affection: and to tell you, that ſuch is my love, as you ſhall never be baniſhed from your Native Country for my ſake, without me; I mean, that I will accompany you into all places where you go, and nothing ſhall ſeparate us, but only death. Oh Sir (ſaid I unto him) will you go with me? What then will the King your Father ſay? Let Gondebaut (replied he) ſay and do even what he pleaſeth, for I will not acknowledge him either for my Father or my King: I would have him know, that Kings are lords of our bodies, but not of our minds, and that nothing is more inſupportable unto a generous courage, then an unjuſt conſtraint: You need not (Dorinde) refuſe my company; for I proteſt before the great Tautates, I will never deſire any thing from you, until we be married together, ſo as I may be for ever the husband of Dorinde, and Dorinde the wife of Sigiſmond. Sir (ſaid I unto him) the hopes which you are pleaſed to give me, do give me ſuch abundance of contentment and ſatiſfaction, that though never any other advantage befal me, yet would I not change my happineſs with any woman in the world: But Sir, if you intend to go with me, what will the world cenſure of my flight with you? What need you care what cenſures the world gives (anſwered he) as long as we intend never to return till we be married together? But good Sir, ſaid I, what will the King ſay when he ſees he has loſt you? If the King replied he, would have a Son without courage, let him get one who does not reſemble me: and if he would have him to be a man of ſpirit, he muſt treat him otherwiſe then he does me, if he deſire to keep him long. But Sir (ſaid I unto him) is the Princeſs Clotilda acquainted with your intention? No, anſwered he, I would not let her know it, for her affection unto you being not like unto mine, ſhe (I know) would not approve of it: But if ever ſhe chance to love, ſhe will not only excuſe the action, but eſteem me the more, and love me better for it.

Our diſcourſe was long upon this ſubject; but at laſt we reſolved, that the third day betimes in the morning, we ſhould meet at the Temple of Venus, becauſe we were to go forth of that Gate; and the firſt that came there, was to conſult with the Oracle, to know which way we ſhould go; being certain that this Goddeſs (who was a great favourer of Lovers) would give us good counſel: and leſt we ſhould be known, Dariana and I were to be diſguiſed in theſe habits which you ſee me wear, and he in the habit of a Shepherd: with him there was only that young man in whom he had ſo much confidence: We promiſed each other to ſtay in the Temple until five of the clock in the morning, but if that time were paſt, if the one did not ſee the other coming, then to ſtay at a little Bridge out of the Town, in the way to Iſſeron, until four of the clock in the evening; becauſe at that place there was a thicket of wood where one might hide themſelves as long as they pleaſed, and that our horſes ſhould ſtay alſo in that wood.

This being reſolved upon, and the third day being come, I failed not to riſe betimes in the morning; and as ſoon as day appeared, I conſulted with the Oracle of the Goddeſs Venus, which gave me this anſwer:

The Oracle.

[Page]

TO Forreſts go; there find a Cure,

For all the ſorrows you endure.

I had forgot to tell you, that before I departed, I writ a Letter unto the Princeſs Clotilda, to diſcharge her of my flight from the cruelty of that Tyrant: and I left it lying upon my Table, aſſuring my ſelf it would be conveyed unto her when I was gone.

Hitherto the Prince Sigiſmond did make me believe that there were ſome men that were not falſe and perfideous: But now he made it appear, that Nature can never be ſo well corrected, but there will alwaies remain a ſmack of the old vice. Oh God! How difficult it is for a ſoul to counterfeit a thing long, which is contrary unto it. But where was my wits? What was become of my judgement, after three times being deceived? Had I not ſufficient experience of mens falſhood? And if now I have occaſion to complain that Sigiſmond hath deceived me, of whom can I complain but my ſelf? Could I be ſuch a fool as to believe the Prince, or truſt in any mortal man, after ſo much experience?

Well, five a clock ſtruck, no Sigiſmond appeared; and ſee how I was deceived by his ſmooth language: Though I ſaw he did not come according to his promiſe, yet I could not believe he would deceive me: Oh God! What will a good opinion which one hath conceived of another do? Though I ſaw he came not, yet I could not but imagine that he would come: And thus I fancied occaſions of his ſtay ſo long, that but for Dariana, I had ſtayed at the Temple door all the day; but ſhe perſwaded me, and not without ſome probability, that perhaps he was ſtaying for us at the Bridge where we appointed to meet, and that not daring to come unto the Temple leſt he ſhould be known, he ſtayed for us there, where perhaps he is blaming us for that whereof we accuſed him.

This advice cauſed us to walk through the ſtreet, not without much fear of being known; yet my fears for the Prince were double to my own, ſo much did his affection which I believed he bore unto me, oblige me to wiſh his welfare. When we were out of the Town, we were much amazed when we found our ſelves in the wide fields, and knew not which way to go; and that which moſt troubled us, was, that all along the high way, there were ſo many paſſengers, that we were ſtill out of our way to miſs meeting with them. At laſt, after much a do, we ſaw the Bridge, and as we thought, the Prince ſtaying for us; this, though we were very weary, made us double our pace: But when we came there, and found no body, then were we much aſtoniſhed, eſpecially when we conſidered that now Noon was paſt: we looked many a long look back the ſame way we came, and every thing we ſaw, ſeemed to be what he looked for, and at laſt every thing deceived us.

The Sun began to grow very low, when I (out of all patience) reſolved to return unto Lyons, to know the reaſon why the Prince came not: But as I was ſetting forward, I ſaw coming the ſame way that we were to go, five or ſix Horſemen, which conſtrained me to retire into the thick of the Wood, leſt they ſhould ſee me. Dariana, who was alwaies of a contrary opinion, and would not have me return back; Well Madam (ſaid ſhe unto me) if theſe men had met you, I pray tell me in what a caſe had you been in? Very true, ſaid I unto her, but is it not better to [...]un the hazard of being known, then to ſtay here all the night? Oh (ſaid ſhe) the days are long, and it will not be night above eight hours; let us not deſpair, perhaps the Prince may come ſome other way when we are gone; but if you be ſo impatient, I will tell you what I will do, I will take ſome of yonder dirt, and rub my face all over with it, afterwards I will be walking up and down the high way as ſoon as I ſee him, I will run to advertiſe you, by this means I ſhall not be known, and you may reſt your ſelf in the Wood; ſo as when the Prince does [Page] come, you may be able to go whither you will in the night.

My longing deſire to ſee Sigiſmond, made me conſent unto this motion though it went ſomthing againſt my mind to ſtay in the wood by my ſelf; yet in hopes that ſhe would go into the Town, and make him come the ſooner, and becauſe I was confident none could ſee me in that place, I took ſo much courage as to ſtay by my ſelf. Dariana then daubing all her face over with dirt, I could not chuſe but laugh in the midſt of my miſery: Go Dariana, ſaid I unto her, and return quickly. Did Ardilan ſee me in this pickle (ſaid ſhe) though he did not die before for the love of me, yet I am confident he would now die with laughter. Upon this ſhe embraced me, and went to the place from whence we came.

Alas! Could I have foreſeen the ſorrows which that departure coſt me, I would ſooner have conſented unto my death then it: But Heaven, not contented only to baniſh me my native Country to ſatisfie a perfideous man, but would have me alſo reſent the ſorrows of a ſad and terrible ſolitude: And as I had forſaken all for this mans ſake, ſo was I for his ſake alſo left deſtitute of all humane help and conſolation, As long as I could ſee her, I did accompany her with her eye; but when ſhe was out of ſight, then began I to be apprehenſive of my fault: At the firſt I went into the thick of the Wood to hide my ſelf, but impatience ſoon invited me out again, fearing leſt if Sigiſmond ſhould come, and not find me, he would not ſtay, but return back again; otherwhiles I was afraid left ſome Wolf ſhould do me harm; ſomtimes I had a deſign to go after Dariana, and ſetting forward in the way two or three times, I either ſaw or heard ſome paſſenger, which made me retreat again into the Wood: Theſe frights were nothing unto thoſe that ſeized upon me when the Sun was ſet; and more yet, when all light was gone▪ Oh Heavens! In what a horror was I then? The leaſt blaſt of wind made me ſtart, and ſhake like a leaf; and when any Bryer took hold of me, I thought it to be ſome Wolf, or other wilde Beaſt that would devour me: When I heard any noiſe, or any Owl ſcrick, I was ready to fall down for fear; There was not a tale of Hags, Hobgoblins, and night walkers, that ever I had heard in my life but they came all into my fancy, and ſeemed real unto me: And being neer a high Road, I heard Horſmen paſs by ſeveral times; and God knows how careful I was then to hide my ſelf in the thick of the Wood. I cannot relate all the Tears, the ſighs, the groans and complaints that I made againſt the perfidie of Sigiſmond, and againſt the hollow affection of Dariana, who then I believed went away purpoſely to forſake me in this extream neceſſity, becauſe ſhe would not run the hazards of this enterprize. Oh how true it is (ſaid I unto my ſelf) that every one is afraid to keep company with an unfortunate perſon? Oh the miſery of us humanes, that can never know our friends, till we be in adverſity! And as ſoon as we know them, we are ſure to loſe them! Oh the diſmal lodging of a dark wood in a cloudy night, unto one whoſe ſpirit was ſo timerous and afflicted as mine was at that time! So it was, that it was day before I durſt offer to cloſe an eye to ſleep. When the Sun appeared, I was ſo weary with my walking, ſo tormented with my fears, and ſo hungry, having eaten nothing all the day before, that as I had taken a little better heart at the coming of day, I fell aſleep, and ſlept ſo ſoundly, that it was late before I waked; and then ſeeing the Sun ſomthing low, fear and hunger forced me to take the next path I ſet my foot into, and to follow it until I came to ſome Vil [...]age, or till I met with ſome charitable perſon, who perhaps out of pity would direct me in the way I was to go. Now did my tears renew and my ſorrows, to ſee ſo many high hopes all daſhed; and I that the day before thought of nothing elſe but being Queen of the Burgundians, now ſaw my ſelf the moſt miſerable and deſolate woman in all the Kingdom: And in this conſideration, you may imagine that the Tyrannie of Gondebaut was not forgotten.

This thought brought into my memory all the fair promiſes of perfidious Sigiſmond, who as I thought, did ſeem to love me, only becauſe he would ſhew himſelf to be a man, and conſequently a Traytor. But what a fool was I (ſaid I to my ſelf) and where was my judgement, that I ſhould ever believe him to be other then a Traytor if he was a man? And ſince all men are ſo, how could I think him only to be different the reſt? Could I be ſo ſilly as to think Crab Trees would bear [Page] any other fruit then Crabs? And could I hope that a ſon of the perfideous Gondebaut, would not (like his Father) be diſloyal? Theſe ſad conſiderations entertained me till it was almoſt night, whilſt I hardly took notice which way I went; at laſt, recollecting my ſelf a little, and ſeeing it ſo late, I looked about to ſee if I could ſpy any Village or Cottage where I might receive ſome conſolation, and by Fortune, I ſaw a little houſe thatch'd with ſtraw, upon my left hand, and not far diſtant from the way. I turned my ſelf therefore that way, in hopes of meeting with ſome good woman, who perhaps would compaſſionate my caſe, for I had ſuch an horrour againſt all men that I feared meeting any, as much as the moſt ſalvage beaſt in the woods. When I was come neer this homely houſe, I ſaw ſix little children about an old man, who in wooden diſhes, was giving them ſome milk: the eldeſt of them could not be above eight or nine years of age, but ſo cleanly and neat, as they ſeemed to belong unto ſome better people then uſed to inhabit in ſuch a poor place: as ſoon as theſe little ones ſaw me, they left the old man, and flocked about me; the youngeſt offered me to eat ſuch as they had, and the eldeſt invited me into the houſe: The old man wondering wither his little children were gone, he looked about for them; and ſeeing me alone, he came preſently unto me, offered me his houſe, or any thing in it, and was ſo curteous and civil, as I thought that heaven having ſome pity upon me, had moved the heart of this old man to be ſo kind, and though he was a man, yet perhaps I ſhould find him pitiful; and truly I was not deceived; for having received me with ſo much kindneſs, and ſeeing by my eyes and face that I was extreamly troubled, he made me ſit down by the fire, offered me ſome milk, and ſome fruit, which hunger made me eat: afterwards ſeeing me cry continually, and ſigh, Daughter, ſaid he unto me (for my age will allow me to call you ſo) the Earth, they ſay is not firm and immoveable, heaven only is ſo, the place where we are never reſts one moment in one point; to teach us, that we muſt not be too much elevated, nor too much dejected by any proſperity or adverſity that happens unto us: for as a wheel which turns, that part which is loweſt one while, is higheſt another; even ſo it is with men, as long as they are upon this inconſtant earth, we muſt look upon proſperity as a thing that will vaniſh and fade away; and alſo we muſt look upon adverſity as a thing which will not laſt long: You ſee I have lived long enough to have tryed variety of Fortunes, the wheel has often turned, and in what ſtate ſoever I was, I alwaies found the ſweets and bitters of this world, to be leſs then the apprehenſions I had of them: you will think the ſame of this misfortune which now troubles you; Time will tell you that by experience I ſpeak truth▪ But in the mean time, lift up your eyes to heaven, and believe, that the great Cauſer of all things, knows what it beſt for you: Miſtruſt not his providence, his prudence, his prudence, nor his puiſſance, nor grumble at any bad Fortune which he ſends; for this ſoveraign Wiſdom knows beſt what is fit for mortals: Comfort your ſelf therefore, and hope that in their turns you ſhall enjoy all delights and contentments that are neceſſary for you; and in the mean time, I offer unto you all the aſſiſtance that your deſires and my ability can make.

The wiſe diſcourſe of this old man, made a deep impreſſion in my heart inſomuch as I thought ſome good Angel had directed me unto this place; to keep me from deſpair; and therefore after I had wiped away my tears from my eyes, I anſwered him thus: Father, for well may I call you ſo, ſince you beſtow ſuch paternal counſel upon me; I would to God I knew the ſtability of heaven, as by experience I know the inconſtancy and inſtability of the earth▪ Let the Gods do what they pleaſe, and give me contentment when and in what meaſure they think moſt expedient for me; but hitherto they have poured upon me ſuch torrents of afflictions, that I verily believe, but for your conſolation, I had been overwhelmed with black deſpair. Daughter (replied the old man) I am very glad that heaven hath made me an Inſtrument of any comfort unto you; and ſince you do find ſome amendment, hope that ere long you will be quite recovered: for as you ſee bodies are ſubject unto infirmities, ſo are our ſouls; bodies by ſenſible diſeaſes, ſouls by paſſions, which are moved in us by good and evil fortunes; and as the diſeaſes of the body have their beginnings, progreſs, and declines, even ſo it [Page] is in the diſeaſes of the ſoul; and I have experimentally found, that when a diſeaſe either of body or ſoul begins once to decline, it is preſently after cured; for then the body aſſumes its vigour and ſtrength, and expels thoſe evil humours which cauſed the diſeaſe: ſo likewiſe, when it once re-aſſumes it ſtrength, it preſently expels thoſe opinions which troubled the ſoul by falſe appearances: But I muſt tell you withal, that diſeaſes are ſeldom cured without remed [...]es: and the remedy for an afflicted ſoul is commonly to open and reveal the affliction unto ſome that can adminiſter conſolation: for then the ſoul does vomit up that obnoxious humour which offended it, and is afterwards capable of receiving the comforts and counſels of a prudent friend. I know that I am not he who can give you conſolation; but if you will truſt me, I will try if I can give any eaſe unto your malady.

Father (ſaid I unto him) the wounds which I have received from Fortune are ſuch, as cannot be cured by any words; but if you be as pitiful and charitable as you ſeem, the beſt remedy you can give, is to conduct me to my Native Country, which is Forreſts, where I am moſt confident of ſome conſolation: The Gods will recompence you for ſo charitable an office; and I am not in ſo miſerable a condition, but I am able to ſatisfie their pains.

The old man then looking upon his children with an eye of compaſſion, ſee what here is (ſaid he unto me) It is not many moneths ſince my wife who was all the comfort I had, left me with theſe little Infants, loadned with age and poverty As for poverty, I ſtrive againſt it as well as I can, by my wary management of that little which I have: Alas, ſhould I leave theſe little ones but one day, they would ſtarve; you ſee I have none but they with me; As for neighbours, I know none whom I would commit your tender youth unto, for I ſhould think my ſelf culpable, ſhould any harm happen unto you: What then ſhould I do? I am loth to leave you deſtitute of help, and ſhould I leave my little ones, I know not what would become of them. But daughter, here is my bed, which I will leave unto you, if you will but be pleaſed to let two of my eldeſt children lie with you, and for this night let us recommend our ſelves unto the protection of the great Tautares.

Upon this, it being dark, he lighted a little dry wood, which ſerved for a candle, and ſtuck it in a Turnip, which ſupplied the want to a candleſtick, and ſetting it upon the Table▪ he bolted the door with a Hazle-ſtick, and went to his homely hard bed with his little children.

As for me, I laid me down upon his bed in my clothes, and being weary with travel, alſo having confidence in the man, I ſlept ſoundly.

In the morning I waked very early, yet not before the old man, had already ordered every thing for his little family, with a reſolution of going with me, and not leaving me till he had ſhewed me Forreſts; hoping (as he told me) that God would keep his children better then he could himſelf, whilſt he was doing that office of charity for me. I gave heaven humble thanks for moving his heart unto it; and after he had given directions unto the eldeſt of his children what to do, he offered himſelf unto me as my guide▪ with a promiſe unto them, to return before it was night; becauſe (as he ſaid) it was not above four leagues from thence to Forreſts, and that though he was very old, yet his deſire of doing me that office, and returning unto his children again, would add wings unto his feet, and make him go as faſt as if he were younger.

So we ſet forwards with each of us a ſtaff in our hands; and becauſe I deſired him to conduct me the leaſt frequented way he could, he was ſo obſervant of my requeſt, that before it was noon, without coming into any high way, unleſs to croſs it, he brought me unto a high mountain, where ſtaying, he ſhewed me the Town of Fevres not far off, and a little from thence, Marcelles, and by conſequence, the great plain of Forreſts: Upon this I asked him where was the River of Lignon. Yonder it is (ſaid he) and that which runs by that Town which I call Fevres, is the River Loire. Then caſt your eye a little upon your right hand, and there you may plainly ſee the River of Lignon: Yonder Town under thoſe two great hills, is called Boen, and the River of Lignon waſhes the walls of that Town: [Page] From hence you may obſerve its whole courſe, which turning and winding it ſelf through yonder delectable plain, makes it the moſt pleaſant place in all Europe. Then the good old man deſired leave to return back, leſt he ſhould be too long from his little Family: and I, taking a Ring from my finger, Here Father (ſaid I unto him) take this in teſtimony of my thanks for your pains, and I acknowledge my ſelf infinitely beholding unto you beſides. Daughter (ſaid he unto me) you take from me a greater reward which I expected from heaven; and yet I will not refuſe what you give me, that you may not appear before heaven ungrateful. Upon this he left me, about an hour after noon, being able to ſay, that I never met with a good man but only him.

Thus ended Dorinde, not being able to with-hold her tears at the memory of theſe cruel adventures. And becauſe her diſcourſe had been long, and alſo time to riſe out of bed, they all gave her the beſt conſolation they could, and then they dreſſed themſelves.

Adamas fearing ſome ſurprize from Rolemas, gave ſtrict charge at the Gates, that all ſtrangers who entred, ſhould write down their names, and the place where they intended to lodge. That ſame night he was advertiſed, that Merindor and Periander with Dorinde, and the reſt of the Shepherdeſſes and Shepherds, were in the houſe of Clindor. But having paſſed away moſt of the night with Amaſis, the advertiſement which the Guards of that Port gave him, came very late unto him. The names of theſe two Cavaliers were not unknown unto him, and knowing them to be ſubjects of the Burgundian King, their arrival at that ſeaſon made him ſuſpect left they came for the ſervice of Polemas; and had it not been at a very unſeaſonable hour, doubtleſs he would have ſent for Clindor, to underſtand from him the cauſe of their coming, and what acquaintance he had with them, to entertain them in his houſe.

This troubled him all the night long, and therefere he took but little reſt: As ſoon as day appeared, he aroſe, and ſent for Clindor; and his chamber door was no ſooner open, but a young man came and preſented himſelf, very deſirous to ſpeak with him. The man was not unknown unto him, for he was brought up in his houſe from a childe. Sir (ſaid he unto Adamas) I come unto you about a buneſs which may perhaps prove of great importance, and perhaps may not; But ſince ſuch a thing came to my knowledge. I thought I ſhould be extreamly too blame if I did not acquaint you with it: And therefore I have made all poſſible haſte that I could to let you underſtand, that yeſterday about two hours after noon, ſome men who ſaid they belonged unto King Gondebaut, came in a body together armed, to carry away a young woman which was upon the Banks of Lignon, betwixt Julieu, and the Temple of the good Goddeſs: When they had taken her, another company (though fewer in number, yet much ſuperiour in ſtrength and courage) followed them, and reſcued this woman out of their hands, and ſince (as it is ſaid) have brought her for ſafety into this Town, with ſome Shepherds and Shepherdeſſes. The Combat was very hot and thoſe who would have carried her away, were almoſt all ſlain, and the reſt rid away.

Now Sir, it was my fortune to be there at the ſame time, where many Druids, Vaces, and Eubages aſſembled themſelves, to Interr three Cavaliers of thoſe who reſcued the woman, and were killed. But becauſe many of their enemies were killed alſo, the Commander in chief, and the Ancients, thought good to bury him according to cuſtom, and not let their bodies be devoured by Dogs and Wolves, or lie there to infect the Ayr. As I pulled off the clothes of the chief of them, I found ſome papers in his pocket, which I thought might perhaps be of ſome importance to the Nymph; I found therefore this Letter Sir, which is directed as you ſee unto Polemas; and afterwards, as I ſearched his Helmet, I found this little one, lapt up very cloſe in a corner of his Helmet: This Sir, I ſhould have acquainted you withal the laſt night, but your ſtay ſo long in the Caſtle, was the cauſe why I could not make my addreſs until this morning.

[Page] Adamas then taking the Letters, and ſeeing written upon them,

To POLEMAS, Count of the Seguſians, Our Faithful Friend.

He thought as well by the Superſcription as by the Seal, that they were letters from the King of the Burgundians, and that queſtionleſs they contained matter of high concernment; yet not thinking fit the young man ſhould know the diſtruſt which Am [...]ſis had of Polemas, he ſeemed to take no great notice of them; only commended his fidelity, diſcretion, and care, and aſſured him that he would acquaint the Nymph, that when time and place ſerved, ſhe might take notice of his good will: Afterwards he commanded him to continue the ſame upon all occaſions that ſhould preſent themſelves; and above all, to be ſecret; to the end Polemas ſhould not be advertiſed of it, leſt he ſhould be offended that his Letters ſhould be brought hither; and yet that it was neceſſary the Nymph ſhould ſee them.

The man was no ſooner gone out of the chamber, but Clindor entred; from whom the Druide underſtood who Periander and Merindor were, and the cauſe of their coming to that place; for Clindor underſtood it from them the night before, when they asked his advice, how they ſhould addreſs themſelves to obtain audience from the Nymph.

Then replyed the Druide very joyfully) as ſoon as thoſe Cavaliers are out of their Beds, you will do an acceptable piece of ſervice unto Amaſis, to conduct them to her; and I will let her underſtand who they are, to the end ſhe may receive them according to their merits: And as for Dorinde, my Neece Leonide ſhall wait upon her unto the Caſtle. Upon this, hearing that Amaſis was by her ſelf, he went unto her.

When he came, he acquainted her with all that he underſtood from Clindor, concerning the fortune of Dorinde, and the cauſe of Periander and Merindor's coming: Then afterwards continued, By this (Madam) you may ſee the goodneſs of Tautates towards you, in ſending ſtrangers to defend you againſt the wickedneſs of your own ſubjects; for it cannot be doubted but theſe two Cavaliers will faithfully aſſiſt you againſt Polemas, although they be ſubjects unto the Burgundian King; their reſcuing this woman from him is an infallible argument of it, But (ſaid the Nymph) you mention King Gondebaut as if you were aſſured that he is no friend unto us: Do you know any thing more then yet I am acquainted with? No Madam, anſwered Adamas, but I conclude by the rules of reaſon that he muſt be ſo of neceſſity: for it is likely that Polemas, who is a man of deep wit, and has plotted his deſigne cunningly, ſhould not make ſure of a King ſo potent and near: ſhould he commit ſuch an error, I ſhould then think him the moſt ſilly man that ever plotted any Treaſon; and I ſhould think it as weakly done of you, if you did not prepare your ſelf to find him ſo: I believe that I have ſome letters here which will put you out of all doubt: Upon this he preſented the firſt letter to her, which the Nymph looked upon a while, and ſaid nothing, wondering at the Title of Count of the Seguſians given unto Polemas; afterwards asking who writ that Letter, and where he had it; I cannot aſſuredly tell you, Madam, anſwered he, unleſs that Seal be the ſame which Gondebaut uſeth; but that CAT (ſaid he) with this Motto, LIBERTY, maketh me think it his: and beſides, thoſe who would have carried away that young woman whom I mentioned unto you, and were killed by theſe three Cavaliers, did bring them, and they were found in their pockets by a young man, who brought them unto me with all ſpeed. Upon this the Nymph broke open the Seal, and found theſe words.

[Page]

GONDEBAUTS Letter unto POLEMAS.

OUR dear Friend; If Clorantes the Captain of our Guard ſtand in need of your help, let him ſee what Friendſhip and Reſpect you bear unto his Maſter: He goes about a buſineſs which he will communicate unto you, and it is a buſineſs of greater importance then it ſeems to be: If Polemas will have us think him to be our Friend, let not upon any conſideration whatſoever, the Bearer hereof return without that ſatisfaction which we expect from his Voyage.

I perceive (replyed Adamas) that this Letter, though it do ſufficiently argue the good correſpondency betwixt them, yet it was written purpoſely to be ſeen by any: But Madam, this other which was found in the Helmet of the ſame man, I believe will ſpeak a little more plainly.

The Nymph taking it, I know not what will be in it (ſaid ſhe) but me-thinks the firſt not very obſcure, ſince Gondebaut writes unto Polemas as if he were abſolute Lord of my Dominions, and calls him Count of the Seguſians; a new Title, and which appertains unto none but him w [...]o ſhall marry Galathea. Then theſe words, Let him ſee what Friendſhip and Reſpect you bear unto his Maſter: And afterwards, If Polemas will have us think him our friend, let not the Bearer hereof return upon any conſideration whatſoever; as if it were in the power of Polemas to permit or forbid any thing without my knowledge in my Dominions: After this ſhe opened the little Note, and found theſe words.

GONDEBAUTS Note unto POLEMAS.

NOw is the nick of time that Polemas muſt be Count of the Seguſians; I underſtand that Clidemant is dead, Lindamore extreamly wounded, and almoſt all his Forces ſquandred. Now let us ſee whether your Courage can equal your Ambition; and in this Gondebaut will manifeſt himſelf to be your friend.

Oh Heavens! cryed out the Nymph, now it is paſt all queſtion, the treaſon is all diſcovered: What human force is it that can help us? The Druide not thinking it fit to ſpend that ſhort time which they had to order their affairs, in tears and complaints, he beſeeched the Nymph to call for Galathea, to adviſe with them upon the courſe that was to be taken: And when ſhe was come, the Druide addreſſing himſelf unto Amaſis, who was all in tears; Madam (ſaid he unto her) Tears will not help; you muſt now ſhew the magnanimity and generoſity of your mind, and make your courage appear to all your people. The great God does promiſe you by me, that he will never forſake you, if you will nor forſake your ſelf: You may ſee his favourable providence already towards you in ſending Alcidon and Damon ſo opportunely hither, as if you had purpoſely invited them. Periandrr and Merindor two Cavaliers very well known to be men of heroick ſpirits, and great valour, queſtionleſs they will freely arm themſelves in your defence, their generous behaviour yeſterday is an argument of it: for Madam, be pleaſed to know, that the daughter of that good old Cavalier Arcingentorix being fled into your Dominions from the tyrannie of Gondebaut, was yeſterday violently taken away by ſome ſouldiers of his Guard, and doubtleſs had been carried away unto [Page] Lions (from whence ſhe eſcaped in a diſguiſe) had it not been for the valour of theſe two Cavaliers who reſcued her, and brought her into this City for ſafety, and to beſeech you that you would be pleaſed to receive her into your protection. You muſt Madam, put your truſt in the goodneſs of the great Tautates, and make it appear, that Amaſis is the Lady of all theſe Countries, not only by ſucceſſion, but much more by vertue and merit. The Nymph wiping away her Tears, and taking Galathea about the neck, Daughter (ſaid ſhe unto her) if heaven have ordained the ruine of our Dominion, let us however do nothing unworthy of our ſelves, nor which may make it thought that it was our fault: Then taking her by the hand, ſhe went into Damons chamber, where ſhe knew Alcidon was; and the doors being ſhut, Adamas by her command ſpoke thus.

Perhaps Sirs you will think it ſtrange, after you have heard what I ſhall ſay by the commands of the Nymph, that the Gods who ſent you into Forreſts to find a remedy for your miſeries, ſhould deſtiny you for the preſervation of that Country, which I may ſay is ruined, unleſs preſerved by your Arms and Valour. The truth is, Amaſis, and us all, have no hopes in any humane force but what is in you, to defend us from a ſhameful and inſupportable ſervitude, which rather then endure, we would die. This great Nymph whom you ſee ſo much honoured by all the Gauls, and whoſe vertue has been ever without the leaſt ſtain, is by the inevitable judgment of heaven, reduced to ſuch a point, as not only to be deprived of her Country and Dominions, but alſo to have the Nymph Galat [...]ea (her daughter) raviſhed from her, by the moſt horrid treaſon that ever was. 'Tis true, that your arrival here ſo opportunely without any other deſigne but by the good will of heaven, does give us a moſt aſſured confidence, that you will become inſtrumental in the preſervation of ſo good a Princeſs, and in the puniſhment of ſuch wicked men as dare ſo unjuſtly attemt againſt her authority. This action, Sirs, when it ſhall be fam'd among the Gauls, will not add a little luſter unto your glory; for it will have all the qualifications that are honourable, and eſteemed by perſons of vertue, as well for the equity of it, as the danger, which (to any courage but yours) would be terrible, and affright them from undertaking it. He would have continued, but Damon being all impatiency, interrupted; Madam (ſaid he unto the Nymph) I proteſt and vow unto Grand Heſus, never to leave you, until you be out of all danger, and will ſpend every drop of my blood in your ſervice, againſt all men in the world: and when I muſt arm my ſelf in your defence, no wound ſhall keep me a minute longer in my Bed. Alcidon aſſured the Nymph of the ſame with ſo much alacrity and freedom, that Amaſis and Galathea could not find words full enough to expreſs their thanks.

Afterwards Adamas acquainted them with the plot of Polemas, and the means by which he hoped to effect it. The great preparations he had made before hand, as well within and without the Dominions; his correſpondency with Neighbour Princes; the authority he had cunningly uſurped in the Country; the means he had uſed to make himſelf maſter of all the Forts, and to win the good will of all the Souldiers and Officers; and briefly, that having impoveriſhed the Nymph of money and men, nothing did hinder him from executing his pernitious deſign, but only his fears of Clidamant and Lindamore. And now the King of the Burgundians hath written unto him of Clidamants death. To be brief, he omitted nothing which he thought expedient for them to know. But all the extream dangers and perils which he repreſented unto them, did exaſperate their courage to undertake the defence of the Nymph: And to joyn prudence unto their valour, the enquired what ſafety there was for her reſiding in that place, and what orders ſhe had taken. Adamas ſatisfied all their demands, and aſſured them, that nothing would be wanting but men: As for Arms, he had a magazine ſtored with all ſorts in the Caſtle: As for proviſion, it was not a moneth ſince harveſt, ſo as their Granaries were full: But as for men, he knew not where to have them, nor whom to truſt.

My opinion is (ſaid Alcidon) that the way to get ſouldiers unperceived, is to appoint ſome publique ſports, and ſet up Prizes, for ſhooting in the Bowe, for Wreſtling, and ſuch like; and when they are aſſembled, we ſhall order them into [Page] Arms. I think Madam (ſaid Adamas) that the counſel is good; for if there be any Traytors, they are perſons of quality; it being not likely that Polemas would declare himſelf unto any others; and we have an excellent pretence for it, becauſe ſeven days hence is the ſixth of July, a day deſtined to gather the Miſleto of the New year; It ſhall be given out, that you intend to be preſent, to invite many unto it; and you know it is the cuſtome for every one to bring what Arms they will in honour of the Feaſt; when they are come together, we may cull out thoſe whom we like beſt.

This was the reſolution, Adamas went immediately to put it in execution; and as he went out, Clindor came in, who by the Druide's command preſented Merindor and Periander unto the Nymph: Amaſis and Galathea received them with abundance of curteſie: And becauſe they intimated that they had ſomthing to ſay in private, the Nymph cauſing them to ſit down by Damons bed, ſhe told them that they might ſpeak freely before thoſe two Cavaliers, from whom ſhe concealed nothing. Madam (anſwered Merindor) ſince it is your pleaſure to have it ſo, we ſhall be obedient, although we were charged to ſpeak unto you alone, and ſo we will, though it be your pleaſure to hear us with many ears. Afterwards he continued thus.

The Sequel of the Hiſtory of DORINDE.

IF great Princes were exempted from Paſſion, unto which others are ſubject, we might well eſteem them Gods upon earth; for if their high puiſſance were accompanied with this priviledge, I know not wherein they would be inferiour unto Gods: And hence it is that immortals being unwilling that men, be they never ſo great, ſhould equal them, have ſubmitted Princes as well as other men, unto unruly paſſions, which torments them.

I uſe this preamble Madam, to the end that when you have heard me out, you may not blame thoſe great Princes of whom I am to ſpeak, for want of Vertue, nor Weakneſs; but that you may think theſe imperfections in them, to be only Tributes which they muſt pay unto their humanity.

Be pleaſed to know Madam, that King Gondebaut having caſt his eye upon a young Lady named Dorinde, he fell ſo deſperately in love with her, that the affection which he bore unto Cryſeide, that fair Tranſ-Alpine, was not equal unto the affection which he bore unto her. This Dorinde was the daughter of Arcingentorix, one of the moſt illuſtrious Families of Gaul. But as all great Beauties are ſubject to be ſeen and loved by many, ſo many caſt their eyes and hearts upon her; and amongſt the reſt, Prince Sigiſmond; yet both the Fathers and the Sons Loves were carried ſo cloſely, that it was long before one another, or any elſe perceived it.

But Dorinde receiving the love of Prince Sigiſmond more favourably then the Kings, it hapned that jealouſies did ariſe betwixt theſe two great Princes; neither Father nor Son could brook any competitor, ſo that Dorinde was conſtrained to fortifie one ſide by her conſent. She therefore turned to Sigiſmond with ſuch a full reſolution, that he who negotiated the matter for the King, had command from her to ſpeak no more unto her concerning it, unleſs the King reſolved to keep his promiſe: for Ardilan (ſo was he called who ſolicited for the King) had promiſed her marriage, though perhaps without any intention of his maſter. This man ſeeing his negotiation to thrive no better, did believe that ſome new Love was the cauſe of it; and being a ſly and craſty fellow, he preſently after diſcovered the affection of Prince Sigiſmond, with which (for his own diſcharge) he preſently acquainted the King, who was ſo extreamly diſpleaſed at it, that great diſorder and inconvenience was like to enſue thereupon. At laſt, the King by way of revenge, reſolved to marry her by fair means or foul, unto one of the Court: whereof Sigiſmond being advertiſed, and not being able to endure ſuch an injury ſhould be offered unto one he ſo much loved and honoured, he went unto her [Page] houſe (for her Father died a little before) and acquainting her with the Kings deſigne, they reſolved to go both together out of Gondebauts Dominions; and (becauſe they would not be known) to diſguiſe themſelves in other habits, then to conſult with the Oracle of Venus, to know which way they ſhould go.

The Prince would have only one man with him, whoſe name was Ceraſtes, in whom he had great confidence; and ſhe only one woman who had long ſerved her, and in whoſe fidelity ſhe could not doubt. Ceraeſtes was to lead the horſes for all four, unto a certain place which they had appointed without the Town: And the Prince with her and Dariana (for that was the name of her who ſerved her) were to go on foot to the place, where Ceraſtes ſtayed for them. But how hard a thing it is to deaf the ears, and blind the eyes of jealouſie!

The King, or Ardilan, or rather both, had ſet ſpies over the Prince and Dorinde; and therefore when they perceived that Sigiſmond went one evening unto Dorinde, though he carried with him but very few men, yet ſo it was, that one of thoſe who took notice of their actions, went into the houſe amongſt the reſt, who took no notice of him: but he carried himſelf ſo confidently, that the Princes ſervants took him to be one of Dorindes domeſtiques, and Dorindes domeſtiques took him for one of the Princes ſervants. This man ſaw the Prince talk with great modeſty and reſpect unto the Lady, and that beginning of their talk was only condoling the death of Arcingentorix, the father of this Fair one. Afterward he obſerved them to talk very low, and the Prince to be very angry; for the actions of his hands, his head, and the reſt of his body, ſhewed as much, though he did not hear one word, unleſs when he bade her good night, he chanced to raiſe his voice, and utter theſe words: Do not fail on your ſide, and be ſure that I will be there. Theſe words were well obſerved, and preſently carried to the King, who entring ſtill into greater doubts, charged ſome of his confidents to have a ſpecial eye over all the actions of Sigiſmond, that they might diſcover his deſign. And Ardilan, who was no friend of the Princes, reſolved not to ſleep a wink all night, purpoſely to ſee if he could diſcover any thing. In the morning therefore he ſaw Ceraſtes take Horſe, and cauſed three others to be brought after him by ſome certain boyes: He ſent commands immediately to the Gates, from the King, to let none out; and in the mean time ran himſelf to advertize the King, who judged theſe three horſes to be for the Prince, Dorinde, and Dariana; and that doubtleſs they had a deſigne to go together. This was the reaſon that he commanded all the Gates of the Town to be ſhut, the keys to be brought unto him, the River Arar to be blocked up with chains, and afterwards ſent for Prince Sigiſmond and Godomar to come unto him.

By fortune, he who went unto Prince Sigiſmond, was the Prudent Avitus, who had been his Governour; but the commands came not ſo ſoon to the gates, but Dorinde was firſt gone out: for ſhe being more quick then the Prince, or to ſay better, had leſs to do in ordering her domeſtiques, was before him. When the prudent Avitus came into the Princes chamber, he knew that his preſence would be unwelcome, and that the Prince would be very buſie about the execution of his deſign; for the king had acquainted him with it: The ſage Governour loving Sigiſmond extreamly well; Sir (ſaid he unto him, and took him aſide) I come to acquaint you that your intentions are diſcovered, and I am ſorry that the King knows of it, then for the diſcovery of the enterprize. What enterprize do you mean? ſaid the Prince. If we were in a place where our actions could not be obſerved, replyed he, I would tell you. The Prince then (who had a great confidence in the wiſdom and fidelity of this man) went half droſt into his Cloſet with him.

Then Avitus began thus, Sir, the King hath ſent me to tell you, that he deſires to ſpeak with you, and with the Prince Godomar your Brother: In the mean time, he hath commanded to ſhut up all the Gates of the Town, and keeps the Keys himſelf; Judge therefore whether or no he knows of your Deſigne. My Deſigne! replyed the Prince, what does he think it is? He hath an opinion (anſwered Avitus) that you intended to go out of his Dominions with Dorinde. Who put him into that opinion? ſaid the Prince. Many circumſtances (anſwered he) [Page] and conjectures; for he knows that you do love her. I never concealed it, anſwered the Prince, either from him, or any elſe; But I pray, is there any Law enacted, that one muſt not love in his Dominions? No, replyed he, but he knows more then that, for he hears that you intend to marry her. If he (replyed the Prince) were a good and kind Father, he ought to give her unto me, and not thus to croſs me, and deprive me of all contentment. Moſt true, replyed the prudent Avitus, if you were a private perſon; but Sir, as all the ſubjects of the Realm are not their own, but the Kings who governs them, ſo the King is not his own, but the peoples over whom he rules. Great Princes (ſuch as you) never uſe to marry to pleaſe themſelves, but for the welfare, grandeur, and ſafety of their Kingdoms. Did you ever ſee (ſaid Ssgiſmond) any Sacrificer to ſacrifice one Victime twice? That is not the cuſtome, anſwered Avitus. Why then will the King ſacrifice me twice for the welfare of his Dominions? For he has once ſacrificed me, when he married me againſt my mind to the Kings daughter of the Oſtrogots. That which is allowed unto women▪ ought alſo to be allowed unto men: Women marry the firſt time by obedience, but the ſecond time by election. Sir, anſwered the wiſe Governour, Thoſe that are ſubject unto the Dominion of another, never ought to uſe theſe terms, I will, and I will not. That is right, anſwered Sigiſmond, in thoſe that are born ſubjects; but I am born the ſon of the King. Admit (replyed he) that you be born the Kings ſon, yet the King is then your Father; and does not a childe owe all duty unto a Father? Give me leave to tell you Sir, that by the Law, the Father may ſell the Son in his neceſſity. Laws, anſwered the Prince, are but Spiders webs, which hold the ſmall flies, but the great ones eaſily break through. The truth is Father, (for ſo he called him ſince he was his Governour) I do love Dorinde, and I will never marry any other but her. Will the King then force an unjuſt marriage upon her? Let me tell you freely, I cannot ſuffer it; acd therefore I did reſolve to fly from a Prince that is ſo violent, and has ſo little regard of equity: If you do love me, as I ever thought you did, I beſeech you contrive my departure, for I am as fully reſolved upon it, as I am to die. The wiſe and prudent Avitus. ſeeing it was no time to preſs him any further, Sir (ſaid he unto him) your deſigne might at any other time be accompliſhed, but now it cannot; for the Gates are all locked, the Guards are ſet in every quarter of the Town, and without wings there is no getting out: and that you may know I ſpeak truth, Ceraſtes cannot get out with your Horſes. Oh heavens! cryed the Prince out, and what is become of Dorinde? Upon this word Ceraſtes entred into the Cloſet, and ſeeing Avitus there, he would have gone out again, but the Prince called him in. No, no Ceraſtes (ſaid he, come in, and ſpeak freely before Avitus, for he deſires my contentment as much as I can my ſelf. Sir (ſaid Ceraſtes with a ſad look) I have been with your horſes at the Port of Venus, but they would not let me paſs: And becauſe I thought that perhaps I might get out by the River Arar, I went thither alſo; but I found all ſhut up, and the Keys carried to the King. Oh God! ſaid the Prince, and what is become of Dorinde? Sir, anſwered he, I hear nothing of her. Then Ceraſtes (ſaid the Prince, go as faſt as you can to her houſe, and if ſhe be there ſtill, bid her not ſtir till ſhe hear from me. Then turning towards the ſage Avitus, I ſee Father (ſaid he unto him) that I ſhall ſtand in need of your counſel. Sir, anſwered he, not only my counſel, but my life, and all I have, is dedicated to your ſervice, But Sir, the King has ſent me to you, what anſwer ſhall we return him.

The King (anſwered he) does uſe me ſo harſhly, that I know not how to behave my ſelf. Conſider Sir, ſaid Avitus, that if you do the duty of a Son, every one will eſteem you; and the fault of one, ought not to exempt another from doing his due. The great Tautates, who is the univerſal father of all men, is very partial in the behalf of Fathers; and therefore he has promiſed a greater recompence upon children that are obedient, then for any thing elſe upon earth. I have often told you Sir, that a good man will not only follow vertue in things that pleaſe him, and are eaſie, but in things that are harſh and hard, though never ſo diſpleaſing: for otherwiſe thoſe animals which are guided only by ſenſe, and have no other light but their own appetites, might be as vertuous as men, ſince they are as [Page] prompt unto things that pleaſe them, and more then we are: But in things that are croſs and averſe to our minds, we do ſhew our ſelves rational, and not ſenſual. Now Sir, I beſeech you ſet theſe conſiderations before your eyes, and ſay when you are before the King, I will do my duty Sir, though it be never ſo much againſt my mind, becauſe yon are my King, and becauſe you are my Father: and you ſhall ſee heaven will infinitely reward your obedience. Father (ſaid Sigiſmond) I will do whatſoever you would have me: But truly, if the King marry Dorinde by force, I profeſs that I cannot ſuffer it; I had rather render back unto my father that which he hath given me, which is my life, then ſuffer ſuch an injury to be offered unto her. No, no (anſwered the prudent Governour) the King does only make a ſhew of doing it, but indeed he dares not; for the Laws are abſolutely againſt any force in marriages: But yet (ſaid the Prince) he grounds upon a Law, which ordains, That if a Father promiſe his daughter unto one, and die before the marriage be effected, the daughter cannot otherwiſe diſpoſe of her ſelf; and if ſhe marry another, they are both to be in the power of him unto whom ſhe was promiſed, to do what he pleaſeth with them. How (ſaid Avitus) does this Law concern Dorinde? It concerns her very much (anſwered the Prince) or at leaſt they ſay ſo; for Arcingentorix had promiſed her unto Bellimartes, unto Periander, and unto Merindor. She will want no Husbands then (anſwered Avitus) but becauſe it is impoſſible ſhe ſhould be the wife of three, therefore the promiſe is null, and of no effect. But Sir, you muſt know, that thoſe promiſes which the Law intends, are ſuch as are paſſed by Writings, and parole promiſes are invalid; for otherwiſe this Law would prove a groſs inconveniency: But beſides all this, I have heard ſay that Merindor and Periander during the life of her Father, did diſclaim that marriage, and Bellimartes (who was married before) had married her, if his wife had not come in and prevented it: All theſe promiſes were made void during the life of her father; and they may fright Dorinde and you, but no Judge will give any ſentence to enforce her upon thoſe promiſes. Oh Father! replyed the Prince, had I ſpoke with you before I fixed upon that reſolution of going away, we had taken a better courſe.

Upon this Ceraſtes returned, and told the Prince that Dorinde was not in her houſe, and that going into her chamber, he found a Letter upon the Table, which he preſented unto the Prince.

Oh Heavens! ſaid he, whither is ſhe gone? Doubtleſs Sir, ſaid Ceraſtes, ſhe is gone out of the Town; for otherwiſe, when ſhe found all the Gates locked, ſhe would have returned to her houſe. Avitus in the mean time having opened the Letter which the Prince gave unto him, they ſound theſe words.

DORINDES Letter unto the Princeſs CLOTILDA.

CAnnot your Candour, Madam, pardon my crime in leaving you without your leave? I ſhould think my ſelf the moſt loſt woman upon earth, did I not hope your goodneſs will not only pardon, but pity me; and accompany my Voyage with ſome Tears of Compaſſion: Eſpecially when you conſider, that I had no way to defend my ſelf from violence: but my flight. Alas Madam, it had been enough, and too much to be deceived, without an addition of ſuch grand Injuſtice unto Treaſon. I have heard ſay, and I hope its true, That the Gods cannot endure any unjuſt Marriages. In the mean time, I will abſent my ſelf, and ſince I am born free, fly from ſuch cruel ſervitude. I proteſt by all my Obligations unto you, nothing grieves me more, then my loſs of the Princeſs Clotilda: [Page] It grieves me, as well to be out of her ſervice, as that ſhe is in a place where I fear the ſins of another will be charged upon her, though innocent.

This Letter (ſaid Avitus preſently) is a full diſcharge for the Princeſs, if Dorinde be gone away; and I conceive it very expedient to keep it, until the truth be known whether ſhe be gone or no, and afterwards that it be carried rather unto the King then the Princeſs Clotilda, to free her from any ſuſpition. To this end, let it be ſealed up with ſome unknown Seal, and carried to the place where it lay, to the end, that thoſe who doubtleſs will carry it to the King, may find it there. But in the mean time Sir, I conceive it requiſite that you go unto Gondebaut, without taking notice of any thing. If he ask whither Ceraſtes was leading the horſes, both he and you may anſwer, that you were going to courſe a Stag, and that he was carrying them to the ſtand; and for a better colour of it, it is expedient you put on your hunting habit.

All things were done as Avitus adviſed; Ceraſtes carried back the Letter, and laid it upon Dorindes Table; in the mean time the Prince dreſt himſelf, and preſently after went to the King, accompanied with a great number of Cavaliers; who ſeeing men armed walk up and down the Town more then uſual, and hearing that the Gates were locked, did flock unto his lodging to receive his commands, for his ſweetneſs and goodneſs made him beloved by all.

As ſoon as the King ſaw him in that habit, he asked him the reaſon of it: To courſe a Stag, Sir, ſaid he, and I was ready to take horſe when Avitus told me that you would ſpeak with me. I believe (anſwered the King and ſmiled) that you were going to courſe rather an Hind then a Stag. The Prince ſeeming not to underſtand him; That might have been Sir (ſaid he) if the Huntſmen ſhould miſtake the one for the other, but it was not my intention. I commanded the gates to be locked, and the Guards doubled, upon ſome intelligence which much troubled me, and which I will impart unto you; and to that end, follow me into my Cloſet: Upon this he went into his Cloſet, and called with him none but Sigiſmond, Godamar, and the prudent Avitus ▪

The door was no ſooner ſhut, but Ardilan knocked, and Avitus by the Kings command went to ſee who it was. As ſoon as the King ſaw him, he went unto him; and the Prince obſerved that Ardilan talked to the King with a face of aſtoniſhment, but he could not hear a word, for he ſpoke very low; their diſcourſe was very long, and in the concluſion he gave the King a Letter, and went away. Gondebaut in a great ſume, as one might ſee by his countenance and eyes, did ſit him down in his chair, and ſhewing the Letter which Ardilan gave him, here's news of our hunting, ſaid he; then holding it unto Avitus, who knew it preſently, he commanded him to read it, which he did; yet in reading it, did ſweeten the ſharpeſt places as well as he could.

What do you think Sigiſmond ſaid Gondebaut) had not I good cauſe to ſay that you were going to courſe the Hind? Do you think that any of your deſigns can be concealed from me? Can you believe that I am ignorant of your fond and fooliſh affection, and unto what height it is grown? And yet becauſe I ſeemed deaf unto all reports that was told me, and would not ſee what all the world did, this connivance has made you forget your duty both unto me and your ſelf. Sir, ſaid the Prince, if you will be pleaſed to hear my reaſons without being ſwayed with too much prejudicated paſſion, you will not think me ſo culpable as I am falſely reported to be. Can you think it poſſible (replyed Gondebaut) that I ſhould not be extreamly paſſionate in a thing which ſo much concerns you? For you have forgotten the duty of a ſon, yet I cannot the duty of a Father: But to let you ſee how much you are miſtaken in thinking me ſo ſwayed with paſſion, I will give half my Kingdom upon condition that I were now in the wrong, and you in the right; I had rather the fault ſhould be branded upon me then you; for alas, I have almoſt finiſhed the courſe which the Fates have deſtined me to live, and for that poor pittance of time which remains for me, it is no matter what opinion is [Page] conceived of me; but you who are beginning that courſe which I have ended. O Sigiſmond, did you know how much it concerns you to keep an unſtained reputation, you would eſteem your loſs of it by this occaſion, to be the greateſt of your life. I know very well Sir, replied the Prince, that I can never ſatisfie thoſe obligations wherein I am bound unto you, and I would beſeech you to add this unto the number, and tell me wherein I have ſtained this reputation, which I ever held ſo dear unto me. You have judgement enough, replied the King, to know it without my telling you, but ſince you deſire to have it from my mouth, is it not true that you do love Dorinde? moſt true Sir, anſwered he, I do love her; but I never knew that it was ever any ſhame to love a fair and a wiſe Lady. But, ſaid the King, ſhe is below your quality. If Kings and Princes, replied he, ought to love none but Queens and Princeſſes, then truly I ſhould confeſs my fault, but if it be a fault, it has been committed by example. Though it be permitted us, replied the King, to love perſons of lower rank then our ſelves, yet their loves ought not to go ſo far as to marry them: for when I beſtowed ſome good language upon Cryſeide, do you think it was ever my intention to marry her? for my part Sir, ſaid the Prince, if ever I ſhould promiſe any marriage, I would perform it as religiouſly, as if all the Druides in Gaul had married me. What? ſaid the King, would you marry Dorinde? I do not ſay I will Sir, anſwered the Prince, but I ſay that if I did promiſe to marry her, I would perform it, though I became the pooreſt Cavalier in your kingdome. The King then pulled down his hat over his eyes, and ſaid unto him, I know moſt aſſuredly, that you have promiſed to marry her. Sir, anſwered the Prince, you are ill informed: It is very true indeed, I did promiſe. that if I were at my own diſpoſe, I would marry her; and whether I have not in this made my duty unto you appear, I refer it unto your ſelf. But I hope to find you ſo kind a father, as not to give me any occaſion to complain againſt you. O Heavens! replied the King, is Sigiſmond of ſo a baſe a ſpirit, as to marry ſuch a woman, if I ſhould give him leave, and ask wherein he has ſtained his reputation: Well, well, I will take an order to apply ſuch remedies, as ſhall prevent any ſuch inconveniencies. Uoon this Gondebaut roſe up, and commanded Sigiſmond to his houſe, and to ſtay there until he received further commands: then the Prince went away extremely vexed, and gave no reply.

Their diſcourſe had continued ſo long, that before they parted the ſun was low; and the Prince, by fortune, as he was going to his lodging, he ſaw a great crowd of people in the ſtreet, which cauſed him to ſtay, as if his heart had told him, that perhaps they had found Dorinde, and were carrying her away: her thoughts were partly true, for he ſaw that it was Dariana, whom he knew better by his habit then her face, which was ſo dawbed with durt as he wondred that any ſhould know her, As ſoon as ever the Prince ſaw her he went unto her, took her by the arm, and by his authority carried her to his houſe. The poor wench did tremble ſo, as cauſed all that ſaw her to pity her. But when ſhe was in the Princes chamber, ſhe took ſome heart; O God Sir (ſaid ſhe to the Prince) what do you think is become of my Miſtreſs? where is ſhe? (ſaid the Prince preſently) at the brtdge (anſwered ſhe) where you aſſured her to be with her: And who is with her? asked the Prince: Alas Sir, ſaid ſhe, with tears in her eyes, ſhe is all alone, and if ſome good Angel have not pity upon her, I cannot tell what will become of her; you muſt know Si [...] [...]hat we were up very early, we conſulted with the Oracle as ſoon as any day app [...]red, and ſeeing the time of your appointment paſt, we thought you were gone to the bridge, unto which we went, and finding none there, my Lady commanded me to go back and ſee if I could find you: and as ill luck was, I was ſeized upon by thoſe, out of whoſe hands you have reſcued me, who ſeeing me alone, and my face ſo dirty, did at the firſt nothing but laugh at me: but afterwards, one of them looking better upon me did unluckily know me, and but for you Sir, would have ſet me in the stocks. By the way, they asked me many queſtions concerning Dorinde, but I alwayes anſwered that ſhe was not with me, for I was come into the town to ſeek her. Ardilan was at the Port with the keyes of the gates when I was ſeized upon, and gave moſt baſe language againſt the honour of Dorinde, which I ſhall never forget nor forgive: But Sir, [Page] when fortune will run a buſineſs, ſee how all ill chances will fall upon the neck of one another: as this Traitor Ardilan was thus belching out his venome againſt Dorinde, one of the Temple of Venus did ſay aloud, that one in ſuch a habit as I had, came that morning to conſult with the Oracle: Ardilan hearing this, did ask him what anſwer the Oracle gave. I cannot tell (applied the man) but as I remember, the ſubſtance of it was, that in Forreſts they ſhould find a remedy for what they ſought after; I ſaw that this wicked varlet went as faſt as ever he could towards the Kings Pallace.

But all this while, ſaid the Prince, what is become of Dorinde? Alas Sir, ſaid Dariana ▪ I can tell you no more, but that I left her at the bridge, hid in a buſh which is on the other ſide of the river. O God, cried the Prince, ſome wolf will devour her. O moſt cruel father (if it be lawful for me to call thee ſo) canſt thou find a heart to murder me in this manner: upon this he was ſilent, and ſighed and walked up and down the chamber. Afterward he commanded Dariana to go out unto Dorindes houſe as ſoon as it was night; he bad her fear nothing▪ and commanded Ceraſtes to conduct her thither in the evening.

Almoſt at the ſame time, the Pri [...]ce Godomar and the prudent Avitus came in to his chamber, and told him how extreamly angry the King was that he had reſcued this woman out of the hands of thoſe who were bringing her unto him. Father (ſaid the Prince unto the wiſe Avitus) I beſeech you tell the King that I cannot endure any ſhould do Dorinde a diſpleaſure, or any that belongs unto her: I will hazard the laſt drop of my blood but I will make them repent it, whoſoever they be, except the king; Let him not think ſtrange at what I have done; as for this woman, ſhe is as ſafe in my hands as amongſt thoſe varlets that uſed her ſo ill, and when he pleaſeth, I will bring her unto him: beſeech him from me to trouble himſelf no further, for it was I who, cauſed Dorinde to do what ſhe hath done, and if he do hinder me from following her, ſo that any harm happen unto that fair one: Let him conſider that he has no more a ſon of me, for I do ſolemnly proteſt, that I will not live to be his ſon any longer. O Sir, anſwered the prudent Avitus, is it poſſible that paſſion ſhould have ſuch a power over you? Do you not conſider who you are? and what duty you ow unto him: I know not father, anſwered the Prince, who I am, but I know what I would be: for I wiſh that I had been in my grave ten years ago. Then walking up and down very faſt; he did nothing for a long while together, but ſigh ſo extreamly, as if his ſoul were ready to depart from his body.

Prince Godomar, who loved his brother moſt tenderly, intreated the wiſe governour to go unto the King, and allay his anger as much as he could; and in the mean time I will (ſaid he) uſe my beſt arguments to perſwade Sigiſmond unto his duty; for I am afraid leſt the King, through the councel of the wicked Ardilan, ſhould make him take ſome violent courſe, if not prevented by your wiſe admonitions. Avitus, who thought he ſpake very prudently, went away without ſaying any thing to the Prince, whoſe anger had ſo blinded him, as he scarſly ſaw any thing that was before his eyes. When they were alone, the young Godomar lockt the dore, and after he had walked two or three turns with him, he ſaid thus: I cannot, brother, indure to ſee you thus extreamly troubled: and I beſeech you moſt heartily to make uſe of me, and believe, that no conſideration whatſoever, ſhall make me ſhrink from any ſervice that you will require from me.

Brother, ſaid Sigiſmond unto him, pardon me if I do not anſwer you, for I am ſo much diſtracted by theſe accidents, that I aſſure you, I did not underſtand what you ſaid: I ſaid brother, applied Godomar, that I am ſo ſotry to ſee you thus perplexed, as I will do you any ſervice in the world you ſhall command me. Brother, anſwered Sigiſmond, I never doubted your kindneſs unto me: but brother, ſaid Godomar, if you do not imploy it in any ſervice, I ſhall not think you love me: for I ſee how much you are troubled, and when will you make uſe of your friend if not now? Brother, anſwered Sigiſmond, I will acquaint you with my perplexities and then we will conſider upon the beſt expedients. Brother, anſwered Sigiſmond, you muſt know that Dorinde is gone, and I ſhould have accompanied her, but the malice of Ardilan hath hindred me. This poor Lady had none with her [Page] but Dariana, and ſhe has left her as you ſee, ſo as ſhe is in the wild woods all night long, and knows not whither to go: but I am moſt troubled that Ardilan, knowing the anſwer of the Oracle, will moſt undoubtedly acquaint Gondebaut with it: and he who is enraged againſt her, becauſe ſhe hath preferred my affection before his, will infallibly purſue her, and if he find her do her ſome harm: which if he do, I vow by Hercules and all the reſt of the gods, that no reſpect, neither of King nor father ſhall hinder me from taking ſuch revenge, as it ſhall forever be remembred: and that Traitour Ardilan may be ſure that I will pull his heart out, though he ſhould hide himſelf in hell. The young Godomar ſtood ſilent a while, and then ſaid unto him; I do foreſee brother, that all theſe things which you do fear, may come to paſs: for when I was laſt with the King, Ardilan came unto him, and told him all that you tell me concerning the Oracle: and preſently after I ſaw them whiſper together very cloſe, and at laſt the King raiſing his voice, he called for Clorantes the Captain of the guard, and after another cloſe conſultation with him, go, ſaid he unto him, and prepare your ſelf with all the haſt you can, and in the mean time your diſpatch ſhall be made. I do ingage that he ſent Clorantes to follow Dorinde, you know that of all the Guard, the King hath greateſt confidence in him, and he the leaſt reſpect unto us: ſo as if you think good, I will tell you what I will do: I will with ſome of my friends take horſe, and follow after him, to hinder him from offering any violence unto that Lady. O brother, ſaid Sigiſmond, may I exſpect ſo good an office from you? I am extreamly offended, anſwered Godomar, that you ſhould make any queſtion or doubt of it. Brother, ſaid he unto him then, I beſeech you pardon my paſſion, I do accept of your offer, and believe it there is no other way under heaven to preſerve my life; let us then ſee, ſaid Godomar, whom I ſhould carry with me, and aſſure your ſelf I will guard Dorinde ſafe from their hands.

After ſome more ſuch diſcourſe as this, they adviſed together which of all the Cavaliers in the court they ſhould chuſe, who would be faithful unto them; of whom they found nine, and of which number Periander, Bellimartes, Ceraſtes, and my ſelf, were four: and becauſe time was not to be loſt, they ſent for us immediately, and without any concealment of their deſigne, they asked if he would accompany Brince Godomar. As for Periander, Bellimartes, and I, we anſwered, that we would not only accompany him: but rather then Dorinde ſhould ſupper any injury, we would leap down the walls of the Town, and follow him, to reſcue her, And the reſt ſaid the ſame; and then they commanded us to arm our ſelves and be ready within two hours to depart, that each of us ſhould bring along with him a confident friend: aud for fear of diſcovery, to rendezvous at the houſe of Bellimartes, becauſe he had the command of the Town ſouldiers, it would not be thought ſtrange to ſee ſo many perſons together, but above all, to be ſecret.

Not one of us failed according as was commanded, and the young Godomar was there at the time appointed; ſo taking horſe as ſoon as we were all together, (becauſe we heard Clorantes was gone with a good Troop,) we came to the gate. Ardil [...]n who was there and very officious, would needs know whether we were going: After Clorantes, anſwered Bellimartes; but the King hath commanded, ſaid Adilan, to let none go out. Then Godomar advancing; How dare you ſirrah, ſaid he, be ſo bold as to controul me and my actions? open the gates without any further replies. Sir, anſwered Ardilan, I did not ſee you; but ſince the King hath commanded me, I hope you will not take it ill, if I do not open them without a further command from him.

Ah Traitour (ſaid Godomar then, and laid his hand upon a Pole-ax which he wore at the pomel of his laddle) I will with one blow, give thee the juſt reward of all thy treachery; and gave him ſuch a blow upon his head that he clove it quite in two. Thoſe at the gate were ſo affrighted at this man, that not one durſt deny opening the gates unto the Prince: For he being very well beloved amongſt the ſouldiers, and Ardilan hated for his intollerable arrogancy, the gates were preſently ſet upon: and Godomar with all his company went out without any difficulty.

[Page]As ſoon as we were out, it was night, yet not very dark, though the Moon appeared not: We came to the Bridge from whence Dariana came; but finding none there, we went on towards Forreſts; I think we loſt our way twenty times amongſt the mountains, not one of us knowing the right way unto Fevres, whither we aimed to go; and therefore our horſes being almoſt tyred, we reſolved to ſtay until it was day at the firſt villages we came unto, and to take ſome guides along with us. We did as we reſolved; and when we asked where we were, thoſe of the place told us, that we were far out of our way, and ſhould have taken much more upon the left hand, and muſt of neceſſity return back ſo far as within the ſight of Lions; which cauſed the young Prince almoſt to deſpair: yet one thing was a comfort unto us; which was, we underſtood that Clorantes was not far before us, and that his horſes were almoſt quite tyred. And asking which way he took, it was anſwered, that he enquired the way towards Fevres; and therefore, as ſoon as it was day, we departed; but becauſe our horſes were as ill tyred as thoſe of Clorantes, it was ſomthing late before we ſet out. One paſſage by the way did much pleaſe us, which was, that we met with an old man who was coming from the place unto which we were going, and who for his age walked very faſt: The Prince riding up unto him, Father (ſaid he) did you ſee a Troop of Horſe paſs this way towards Fevres? No Sir (anſwered he) I ſaw none: But I obſerved all along the way which comes from yonder Town which you may ſee upon your left hand, a great track of horſes: yet (replied the Prince) did you come from Fevres, and meet none? I was but a league further Sir (ſaid he) and have been guiding thither a young woman that is extreamly ſad. That's ſhe whom we do ſeek (ſaid the Prince, and turned towards us) Good Father (ſaid the Prince) tell us where ſhe is whom you guided? Sir, ſaid the man, you ſhall know no more from me, for I know not whether you intend good or bad unto her. It is for her good (ſaid the Prince.) If it be (replyed he) the great Tautates ſpeed you, and guide you where ſhe is, for he knows your intentions, but I do not, and therefore dare not tell you any more, for ſhe is worthy of aſſiſtance; and ſince ſhe did commit her ſelf unto my guarding, I ſhould be guilty of all the harm that befalls her. The young Prince admiring the vertue of this country fellow, did put his hand in his pocket, and gave him a piece of gold, and deſired him to be as wiſe unto all as he had been unto him: Then paſſing on, we had not gone far, before we found the track which the old man told us of, and we followed it unto Fevres, where night coming on us, we reſolved to ſtay, and enquire further news of Clorantes, which we did; for by fortune he had lodged in the ſame place where we took up our quarters. Godomar then knew that he had found him whom he looked for, which was no ſmall ſatisfaction unto him.

In the morning, enquiring which way he took, it was told us that he was paſſed over Lignon, and indeed we found again the track of his horſes feet, which conducted us unto a place where there was four ways, where we perceived he had made a Halt; for the track was very freſh and new: but we were moſt troubled to find, that of thoſe four ways, three of them were printed with horſes feet, which made us think that they were divided into three Troops.

The generous Prince (who was infinitely deſirous to ſerve his brother) was of opinion, that it was beſt for us alſo to divide our ſelves into three companies, and each company take one of thoſe ways. We being unwilling to leave him ſo ſlenderly guarded, did a little dorr at it; but he perceiving it; No, no ſaid he, you all promiſed to obey me, and I had rather die then fail in this firſt occaſion, upon any conſideration of my perſon. And therefore let Bellimartes, Periander, and Merindor, with their three friends take the way that paſſeth over Lignon, Ceraſtes and five other Cavaliers take the way upon the right hand, yet not to paſs over the Loire, and I (ſaid he) with ſix others, will alſo paſs over Lignon upon the left hand; and at three days end, we will all of us rendezvous at yonder Temple which we ſee ſtand in the midſt of that plain, that we may conſult what courſe we ſhould take. Then after we had embraced each other, he was the firſt that s [...]t forward.

We were all forced to obey his commands, though with much ſorrow to part, [Page] yet ſome good angel inſpired him; for Bellimartes, Periander, and our ſmall Troop had not marched above a League and a half, but we overtook Dorinde yet in the hands of Clorantes, who was carrying her away: Heaven was ſo favourable unto our enterpriſe, that though we were but ſix, and they fifteen or ſixteen at the feweſt, yet we defeated them, and took Dorinde from them, although our victory was very dearly bought; for we loſt there the valiant Bellimartes, Periander loſt a coſen german, and I a brother; yet ſince the Gods had made us ſo happy as to ſerve the Princes Sigiſmond and Godomar, and that fair and vertuous Lady, we endured the misfortune with much patience.

Now Madam, we have brought Dorinde into this City, who caſts her ſelf under the ſhelter of your protection as a ſafe Sanctuary; we hope that you will oblige theſe Princes, and ſhew your ſelf to be a pious refuge for innocents.

Thus ended Merindor; and Amaſis began to ſpeak: Generous Cavaliers (ſaid ſhe unto them) Dorinde is by your valour brought unto a place where ſhe ſhall find no worſe uſage then Galathea my daughter; and had I been ſooner informed of your Quality, I would not have ſuffered either her or you to have had any other lodging then my own houſe, which I offer unto all, with as much freedom as I have my ſelf: Alſo I conjure you by your order of Cavalry, to promiſe me that you will go unto Prince Godomar at Mount Verdune, for I ſuppoſe that to be the Temple where you are to meet him, and beſeech him from me, to honour me ſo far as to come hither; where I have a moſt extream deſire to render unto him ſuch ſervices as are due unto ſuch a great and generous Prince. Madam (anſwered Periander) I know the Prince ſo civil, that he will not be ſo neer, and loſe the honour of kiſſing your hand; beſides, I aſſure my ſelf, that when he knows Dorinde is with you, he will (in ſatisfaction of that duty he owes unto his brother) come and thank you for this favour.

They had no ſooner ſpoke theſe laſt words▪ But Leonide did acquaint Galathea that Dorinde and her company were in the Hall; of which Amaſis was ſo glad, that ſhe bade Galathea go and receive them, and conduct them unto her; which office Galathea undertook very willingly; for underſtanding that Lycidas the brother of Celadon was there, ſhe was extreamly deſirous to ſpeak with him: She went therefore with a great number of Nymphs, who could not chuſe but admire the beauty of theſe ſtrangers, though the habits of Shepherdeſſes did much dim the luſter of their faces. Galathea who was informed who Florice, Cercinea, and Palanice were, after ſhe had complemented Dorinde, ſhe went unto them, and treated them ſo kindly, as was beyond their expectation. Madonthe hearing that theſe ſtrangers of her acquaintance were ſo near, ſhe went unto them, and acknowledged her obligations unto them all, eſpecially Hylas, Lycidas, Tircis, and Palemon, and bade them moſt kindly welcome: But when ſhe firſt ſaw them in thoſe habits, ſhe hardly knew them; and they ſeeing the rank which ſhe held, did begin to bluſh, and out of reſpect, keep at a diſtance.

But Madonthe who loved the women very well, and deſired that they ſhould uſe the ſame freedom with her, which they were wont; Did I think (ſaid ſhe unto them) that the gaudery of my garments would make you keep at a greater diſtance from me then you were wont to do, I proteſt I would this very hour leave them off, and never wear them again. Madam, ſaid Lycidas unto her, your curteſie muſt not make us continue in that crime which our ignorance of you cauſed us to commit. Alas Lycidas, replyed ſhe, it cannot be called any crime, for am I not the very ſame I was before? Doubtleſs you are, Madam, replyed Lycidas, but we are not in the ſame errour that we were. Shepherd (ſaid ſhe) unleſs you will cancel all thoſe obligations wherein I am bound unto the curteous Shepherds, and fair Shepherdeſſes of Lignon, I conjure you to be as familiar with me, as you were wont to be; and then (with Galatheas leave) I will ſhew you what I was in queſt of amongſt you in my diſguiſe. Upon this, taking Florice by the hand, and Cercinea in the other, ſhe carried them all into Damons chamber: Amaſis was there, who embraced all theſe fair ones, and received them ſo kindly, that they were all very well pleaſed. But when Galathea preſented Dorinde unto her, ſhe ſhewed her ſelf more reſpective of her, then any of the reſt, for Prince [Page] Sigiſmond's ſake; and carried her unto Damon and Alcidon, they, Madonthe and Daphnide, ſaluted her.

Hitherto neither Adraſtes nor Hylas had ſpoke a word; the firſt becauſe he was raviſhed to ſee the houſe adorned after another faſhion then the ruſty cottages wherein he was brought up; and Hylas, becauſe there was none in all the company who did put him into a mood of diſcourſe, but Madonthe, who till then did not ſee him; Oh Hylas (ſaid ſhe) are you there, and I not yet paid thoſe devoirs which are due unto our ancient Friendſhip? What opinion will you have of me? Better Madam (anſwered he) then ever I had before. And yet (ſaid ſhe) my incivility does not deſerve it. You are miſtaken, Madam, replyed he, I have a better opinion of you then ever I had; for me thinks we two are of humours alike. Oh heavens defend Hylas, (replyed ſhe preſently) for I would not reſemble you in Inconſtancy. Nay, never fear it (ſaid he) for you can never arrive at that perfection; but my meaning is, that when I have that contentment which I deſire, I care for nothing elſe; and me thinks you do the ſame now you have found this Cavalier; and I do ſo like the humour of it, that I do eſteem you much more. Damon who could not chuſe but laugh at the anſwer, did ask Madonthe in a low voice, who that Shepherd was; and being informed, Kind Shepherd (ſaid he unto him) will you give me leave to believe what this fair Lady tells me? Sir, anſwered Hylas, doubtleſs you may, for nothing but good can come from ſo ſweet a mouth. yet anſwered Damon, what ſhe tells me, makes not for your advantage. Perhaps Sir, replyed Hylas, you may be miſtaken; the ſame merchandize bears not the ſame price in all Countries; That which is extreamly dear in one Country, may perhaps be dog cheap in another. But that merchandize wherewith your pack is ſtuffed, as ſhe tells me, replyed Damon, is not dear in any place of the world, eſpecially as I have heard amongſt the Shepherds of Lignon; for ſhe tells me, that you are full of inconſtancy. Me thinks (anſwered Hylas) that you are ſo much obliged unto thoſe of Lignon for keeping this fair Lady ſo long amongſt them, that you ſhould have a better opinion of them; for had not their curteſie and civilities ſtayed her ſo long there, perhaps you would not have found her there, but had wandered God knows whither before you had met her. I do moſt thankfully acknowledge my obligations unto them (anſwered Damon) and ſhould be very ſorry to diſpleaſe them; but I thought that I had obliged them by what I ſaid. Did you not ſay, replyed Hylas, that Inconſtancy was not dear in that Country? I did ſo, anſwered Damon. Why then did you as good as ſay, replyed Hylas, that there is great abundance of it; for abundance of any thing, be it never ſo good, makes it cheap. I did not ſo intend it, anſwered Damon; but on the contrary, my meaning was, that on the Banks of Lignon your merchandize is not a ſaleable commodity, becauſe none ever makes any uſe of it. Oh Sir, replyed Hylas, you are extreamly miſtaken in that belief; for there is not a place in all Gaul where the people know better how to love then they do who inhabite about thoſe happy Banks of Lignon: That is the reaſon, replyed Damon, why I believed that Inconſtancy was baniſhed from thence. Nay, ſaid Hylas, ſince you are in that errour, I beſeech you tell me, is not this the quality of all thoſe that love well, to change themſelves (as much as poſſibly they can) into the humours of thoſe they love? And if it be, there is not one Shepherd who is not inconſtant; and where can you find one Shepherdeſs who does not ſo?

Oh Hylas, ſaid Madonthe, and interrupted him, you know very well that now you ſpeak againſt your conſcience. I hope Madam, anſwered Hylas, that▪ if I prove it, then you will ſay as I do. I cannot believe (ſaid Daphnide) that you can prove it. Then anſwer me unto theſe queſtions, ſaid Hylas: You ſay that Hylas is inconſtant; and if Lovers do change themſelves as much as they can into the homours of thoſe they love, is it not certain that I loved Laonice, Phillis, Alexis, Stella, and many others? I do believe it, anſwered ſhe, ſince you ſay it. If ſo, ſaid he, then they were inconſtant, or elſe in loving them I was not changed into them: And Lycidas, Corilas, and many others who loved them, they alſo were inconſtant; or elſe in loving them, they were not changed into them: ſo likewiſe all thoſe who call themſelves lovers of thoſe whom I loved, do but call them to [Page] account, and you ſhall find, that they have all taken of my merchandize, Damon could not chuſe but laugh at his concluſion▪ But Hylas, ſaid he unto him, though a man do change himſelf as much as he can into the humour of the woman that he loves, yet the woman loved does not change her ſelf into the man lover [...] ▪ and therefore if Phillis Stella, Alexis, and the reſt did not love you, they did not participate of your Inconſtancy. They did love, anſwered Hylas, there is no doubt of that; but yet my meaning was, that ſince in loving them I remain inconſtant, it is to be believed that they are inconſtant alſo [...] otherwiſe, ſince I had loved them if they had been conſtant, doubtleſs I had become conſtant. And therefore Madam, you muſt needs confeſs, that all about the Banks of Lignon are of the ſame humour with Hylas. However (replyed Madonthe) you do not prove unto me that all are inconſtant: I will only inſtance poor Adraſtes there; for he would not be in that condition he is, if he could be inconſtant. Oh Madam▪ anſwered Hylas, he is not inconſtant, becauſe he is mad, as all are that are not inconſtant.

Damon hearing that Adraſtes was out of his ſenſes, he was very deſirous to know all the particulars of that ſad accident; and when he underſtood it, he pittied him extreamly.

Palemon then, who ſilently liſtned unto all the diſcourſe of Hylas, Madam (ſaid he unto Madonthe) if the miſerable condition of this poor diſtracted Shepherd have moved you unto any compaſſion, I beſeech you become a mediator unto the Nymph Amaſis for his former liberty and ſenſes. Why Palemon, anſwered Madonthe, Do you think it in her power to cure him? We are ſo informed Madam, anſwered Palemon; and ſince the tryal will not coſt any thing, we beſeech you to intercede in the behalf of this poor Shepherd. I aſſure my ſelf (ſaid Madonthe) that if it be in her power, ſhe will not deny us. Then taking the Shepherd by the hand, ſhe carried him to Amaſis, who was talking with Dorinde; and juſt at the ſame time as Madonthe was preſenting him unto Amaſis, the ſage Adamas returned from out of the Town, where he had given orders for every thing as was reſolved upon. And becauſe the Nymph ſaw him look with a countenance of much contentment, ſhe was exceedingly deſirous to ſpeak with him: but being unwilling to interrupt Madonthe, who had already begun to ſupplicate in behalf of poor Adraſtes; and the Druide hearing her, Madam (ſaid he) Madonthes deſire is juſt; and though this be not concurrent with the Religion of Druides, yet ſince the Romans firſt began it, and it has continued a cuſtome ever ſince, it is ſeen by experience that it cures. Oh then (ſaid Amaſis) I will do all that is in me to reſtore this poor Shepherd unto his firſt condition. The great Tautates Madam, ſaid Palemon, will reward you: and for my part, I do here make a ſolemn vow, that if he be cured, I will grant the firſt requeſt that afterwards ſhall be asked of me, if it be within compaſs of my power, and be lawful to be done; ſince the happineſs which I enjoy is partly a cauſe of his miſery.

The Druid then, ſeeing every one ſilent; Madam (ſaid he aloud, and addreſſed himſelf to the Nymph▪) I come to acquaint you, that there are ſeven Cavaliers come into the town, who inquire for Prince Godomar. Do you know their names, asked Periander and interrupted him; one of them, anſwered he, is called Alcander, and the other, I think, Amilear. They, anſwered Periander, they are none of our Troop; but they are of our acquaintance and are our friends. Circienea, who heard Alcander named, could not chuſe but bluſh: and Florice, approching to the Druide. Theſe two, ſaid ſhe, whom you have named, are my brothers, and it is the moſt happy news that could come unto me; and if we heard the names of the reſt, perhaps alſo, we ſhould have intereſt in ſome of them: you may ſee that, ſaid Adamas ▪ (and pulled out a paper which the guard at the gates had ſent unto him) then they read the liſt of them, Alcander, Amilcar, Silcines, Lucindor, Clorian, Cerintes, and Beliſard: O heavens! cried out the ſtrangers, the beſt news that ever came: For, ſaid Circinea, Silcines and Lucindor are my brothers; Clorian and Cerintes are brothers unto Palanicae. I beſeech you Madam, ſaid Florice unto Amaſis, give us leave to go and meet them: for it is ſo long ſince we ſaw them, that we ſhould be extreamly grieved, ſhould they go away before we ſpeak unto them. No, no, anſwered the Nymph, I will ſend to intreat [Page] treat them they will favour me ſo far, as to come hither, if they inquire of Prince Godomar, and I am very confident, that being your brothers, I ſhall find them ſo courteous as not to deny my requeſt. I beſeech you Madam, ſaid Merindor, let us have the honour to go and let them know your pleaſure, for I am moſt confident they will obey you. So Merindor and Periander, having the Nymphs command, did go together with Clindor.

They were not gone half down the ſtairs which deſcend from the Caſtle, but they met them, and being advertiſed of their arival, they judged it to be them, though they were armed. Their meeting was with many demonſtrations of good will, as if the amity betwixt them were much augmented, ſince the laſt ſight; and Merindor, having acquainted them with the deſire of the Nymph Amaſis, they went altogether unto the Caſtle where they were entertained by the Nymphs and Cavaliers, with all manner of welcome; but thoſe who ſaw the Careſſes which Florice, Cercinea, and Palanice, made unto their brothers, would have thought ſome greater intereſt to be amongſt them then that of kindred.

After all complements of civilitie were paſt on both ſides, for the Nymph was pleaſed to permit to contentment unto the three ſiſters, though it was her preſence; Alcander addreſſed himſelf unto her and ſaid, Madam, we have commiſſion from the Prince Sigiſmond, who hath ſent after the Prince Godomar his brother, to aſſure you of his ſervice: and that if any occaſion preſent it ſelf wherein he may give a teſtimony of his affection, he will think himſelf infinitely happy to receive your commands. Sir, anſwered Amaſis, it is the exceſs of that Princes civility, which makes him uſe ſuch language: but it is no wonder in him who is ſuch a profeſſed ſervant unto all Ladies, but I ſhould rather wonder if he did not, ſince I am of that number, But we are all ſo much obliged unto him, that we are bound to honour and ſerve him, as I for my part will do as long as I live: and ſince you are in queſt of Prince Godomar, I am very glad that you may hear ſuch certain news of him here, that your journey will not be loſt.

Then Periander and Merindor acquainted Alcander where he might find him in the morning; and Alcander, looking about him, he ſaw Dorinde. This, this, Madam, is ſhe (ſaid he unto the Nymph) which is the happy accompliſhment of our journey, Dorinde is ſhe that is the principal cauſe of Prince Godomars departure. I aſſure you, Madam, that when Prince Sigiſmond ſhall be advertiſed of it, he will recommend her unto you with all manner of affection, and will think himſelf infinitly happy ſhe is in your hands, I do alſo think my ſelf very happy; anſwered the Nymph, that ſuch an occaſion is preſented unto me, wherein I may do him this ſmall ſervice untill a greater preſent it ſelf.

Whilſt they were thus diſcourſing, one came to advertiſe Adamas, that a Cavalier, whoſe name was Ceraſtes, was at the gates, with twelve others armed, who deſire to enter: the Druid told it unto the Nymph aloud. But Periander and Merindor, hearing the name of Ceraſtes, and that there was twelve in his company, Madam, ſaid they, aſſure your ſelf that it is the Prince Godomar, who has heard that Dorinde is here. I would I were ſo happy, ſaid ſhe, as to ſee ſo great a Prince in my houſe, that I might offer unto him all that is with in compaſs of my power: will you be pleaſed Madam, ſaid Periander, to let us go unto him and command that they may have entrance: for upon our words Ceraſtes, and all those in his company are your ſervants, and come hither only to render unto you all honour and obedience. Cavaliers, anſwered the Nymph, command that all whom you ſhall pleaſe may enter, for I refer all unto your diſpoſition. Did I think that the Prince were in the company, I would go and [...]eet him, and offer him my Dominion and that is in my power. Adamas hearing the opinion of theſe Cavaliers, ſent in all haſte to cauſe the gates to be opened, and to advertiſe him, as near as could be, of the truth. When all the Cavaliers were gone, he returned to the Nymph: Madam, ſaid he unto her, aſſure your ſelf that God has taken upon him your defence: See what unlookt for aid, he ſends you. I conceive it fit, if Alcidon and Damon approve of it, that when this young Prince is come, you acquaint him with the ſtate of things, as well with the death of Clidamant, as with the treachery of Polemas: For it is out of all doubt, that the correſpondency which [Page] this wicked man holds with Gondebaut, will hinder from your aſſiſtance; this action in killing Ardilan at his coming out of the gates, does ſhew that this Prince loves his brother better then he does his father. For my part, anſwered the Nymph, I will be ruled by you in all things: and calling for Damon and Alcidon, ſhe command the Druid to acquaint them with what he had propounded, which they hearing, they were of the ſame judgement, and adviſed Nymph to oblige the Prince as much as ſhe could: for moſt certainly Sigiſmond, (ſhe having with her two perſons ſo dear unto him) would ſend her relief if ſhe ſtood in need of him.

Whilſt they were talking of theſe things, and putting all things in the beſt order they could in the Caſtle to receive Godamar, all the Cavaliers came to the gates of the Town, in which the Prince was already entred unknown; but when they met, their joyes were ſo great, as it was impoſſible any longer to hide them. For they all run to kiſs his hand with ſo much affection and reverence, that every one knew him to be the Prince Godomar, of which the Nimph was preſently advertiſed by thoſe whom Adamas ſent thither, and ſhe was extreamly joyed at it. At the ſame time Adamas, by her command went to receive him: and ſhe accompanied with Galathea, Madonthe, Daephnide, her Nymphs, Dorinde and all the ſtrangers, went all to the gates of the Caſtle, at which ſhe was no ſooner come, but the Prince with all this Troop arived, and in ſuch Majeſty, as made him manifeſtly appear to be the maſter of all those that were with him.

As ſoon as he ſaw the Nymphs he alighted from his horſe, and diſarming his head, he appeared ſo handſome and fair, that he attracted the eyes of all the Ladies upon him: and taking a hat, he went to ſalute Amaſis with ſuch a grace, that every one admired his deportment. After ſome complements of civility, to which Amaſis anſwered with the like reſpect, he addreſſed himſelf unto Galanthea, and profeſſed abundance of ſervice unto them both: I come Madam, ſaid he▪ to pay that duty which all Cavaliers are obliged unto, and to aſſure you that Prince Sigiſmond and I are wholly devoted unto your ſervice, and ſo are all thoſe that have any dependency upon us: of which number, here are ſome which we offer unto you, and all moſt ready to defend you againſt any that ſhall offer any wrong unto you, upon condition (added he and ſmiled) that you will defend us from any wrongs we may receive from the beauty of theſe Ladies, whom we ſee about you. Sir, anſwered the Nymph, were the defence which you are to undertake, no harder then that which you propound unto us, the danger would not be great: and yet ſaid ſhe (with a ſmiling countenance) ſince generous Cavaliers are obliged to take upon them the protection of Ladies, my daughter and I do accept of your offer, and we beſeech you to conſider that we are not able to defend you from thoſe wrongs which you foreſee: For it were a ſhame unto ſo brave and valiant a Prince, to look for any relief from Ladies who are feeble and ſo timerous as we are.

Upon this Dorinde came and caſt her ſelf at his feet, to thank for the pains he had teken for her, beſeeching him not to forſake her; and I believe, the Mymph Amaſis had ſaid ſomething unto her which prompted her thereunto: the Prince ſeeing her in that habit, did hardly know her, if ſhe had not ſpoke; but knowing her rather by her tongue then face, he very graciouſly took her up and ſaluted her: Fair one, ſaid he unto her, the Prince Sigiſmond has ſo great a care of you, that you need not doubt any of thoſe who have any dependency upon him, will ever forſake you: beſides, you are now under the wings of this great Nymph, who is pleaſed to honour you ſo far as to take you into her protection, as I have commiſſion from Prince Sigiſmond my brother' moſt humbly to beſeech her to do: Your virtue and merits will alſo oblige her unto it, and us to aſſiſt you, in all that we can to the uttermoſt of our power; upon this turning towards Amaſis, he ſaid unto her in a loud voice: The cauſe, Madam, of my voyage, and why I armed my ſelf, was only in defence of this fair one, and moſt-humbly to beſeech you that you would be pleaſed to let her remain ſafe in your dominions, and in requital of the favour, the Prince Sigiſmond (my brother) and I, do promiſe for us and all our friends, to ſerve you upon all occaſions whatsoever. Sir, anſwered [Page] the Nymph, I do receive this fair Lady into my protection, as well for her own merits and virtue, as at the inſtance of two ſuch great Princes: I do give unto her, as much power and freedome as I have my ſelf, aſſuring you, ſhe ſhall ſure no worſe then Galathea my daughter. After ſuch thanks as are uſual upon ſuch offers, Alcidon ſaluted Godomar, who underſtanding by Adamas who he was, did receive him with ſo much honour and ſo kind an aſpect as from that day this Prince won the heart and affection of that generous Cavalier.

At laſt Godomar, after much other ſuch diſcourſe, was conducted to his chamber, where the Nymphs left him to diſarm and refreſh himſelf, for it was extreamly hot: and whilſt his arms were taking off, he related unto Periander and Merindor, how ſince they parted, he marched a long way without meeting any. At the laſt, ſaid he, we came to the top of a hill, where we diſcovered all this goodly plain; and looking about every way, we eſpied about half a league from us, a troop of horſe, which we thought to be Cloraentes: This invited us, after we had obſerved which way they took, to take the ſame track: and ſometimes upon a Trot, and very often upon a Gallop, we made ſuch haſte, we overtook them, as they were paſſing over a little river, where they watred their horſes, We found it to be the Lieutenant unto [...]lorantes, with fifteen or ſixteen horſe; we underſtood from him, that they divided their Troop where we did ours: and becauſe they ſaid that they had commands to be that evening at the ſame place where they parted; I thought it not good to leave them, ſince if by fortune any one of the companies had met with Dorinde, we ſhould find them with their Rendezvous. Not making my ſelf known unto them, one of my men told them, that the king having ſent us upon the ſame deſigne, we thought that we could not do better then to ſtay toge [...]her, and help each other if occaſion were. They were very glad of the motion, and ſo we m [...]rched all the reſt of the day together: At the evening we came to the place of appointment, where we found Ceraſtes, who had met with the very ſame encounter, and who told me, that Clor [...]ntes was killed, and almoſt all his Troop, as he underſtood by ſome wounded men that had eſcaped: That Dorinde was the cauſe of it, and that of neceſſity, it muſt be the Troop of Bellimartes which had met with this happy encounter. You may imagine that the Lieutenant was much aſtoniſhed at this accident: and being a man of courage, I ſaw him reſolved to follow after thoſe that had relieved D [...]rinde, knowing that their enemy was but a few in number, Then diſcovering my face, I ſaid unto him▪ nay Sir, if you intend to revenge Clorantes, never look any further, for it was I, and thoſe that belong unto me, that reſcued this innocent woman out of his rude hands: Tell king Gondebaut, it was his ſon that did it, and will do ſo as of [...] as I find any Lady injured. If he complain, tell him that the order of Knighthood which he hath conferred upon me, obliged me unto this defence: if he diſlike the action, let him complain againſt himſelf for getting ſuch a son that has too much courage, to ſuffer any woman to be injured in his preſence, and he not relieve her.

The ſouldiers were ſo damped at the ſight of me, and to hear this language, that they were all ready to run away. At laſt, doing me that honour which was due unto me, they excuſed themſelves as well as they could, and were extremely glad when I gave them leave to be gone. That night they went no further then the town where we had quartered, becauſe their wounded fellows were retired thither: but I aſſure my ſelf, that the next day they told Gon [...]ebaut ſuch a ſtory, as will not incenſe him a little againſt me: but when the heat of paſſion is cooled, I hope he will think we have done no more then Cavaliers of honour ought to do. As for us, when theſe men were gone, becauſe it was very late, we lodged in a place which is called Ponſius, where we heard the whole ſtory of the combate with Clorantes, and that three of our Cavaliers were ſlain, which grieved me extremely. And laſtly, that you had carried Dorinde into this Town for ſafety. This news, made me reſolve to wend my courſe this way, and not unto the appointed rendezvous.

Thus Godomar related all his adventure, and had dreſſed himſelf, when Alcander and thoſe of his company came to kiſs his hands: for though he had ſeen [Page] them, yet had he not spoke unto them. After he had imbraced them, what good fortune, my good friends (ſaid he unto them) brought you hither, where I am very glad to ſee you? Sir, anſwered Alcander, when your going out of the Town, and the death of Ardilan was nois'd about the Town, we were extremely ſorry that we had not the honour to wait upon you: and becauſe we heard that the Prince Sigiſmond was detained, we had an opinion that perhaps he could tell us which way you went, to the end we might be the firſt that would follow you, though we were not ſo happy as to accompany you. Prince Sigiſmond did highly commend our deſigne, and [...]onjured us to make all the haſte that poſſibly we could to overtake you, fearing that you might ſtand in ſome need of our ſervice; he told us you were gone towards Forreſts, and we could not be long about the river of Lignon before we heard of you: that if he could, he would follow us ere long, and that however, he would ſend unto you all thoſe that declared themſelves his ſervants.

The next morning we departed, though not altogether, but at ſeveral part and without arms, having conveyed them out ſecretly before.

But I pray, ſaid the Prince, what ſaid the King when he heard of Ardilans death, and of my departure? Sir, anſwered Alcander, I cannot relate the bitter expreſſions of his anger againſt you, nor his ſorrows for the loſs of that pernicious man. But Sir, though the King do blame you, yet all the people bleſs you, and the Court commends you: The Prince your brother is ſo joyed at it, that he cannot chuſe but ſhew his extream contentment: ſo as the wiſe Avitus was forced to beſeech him he would at the leaſt hide it, leſt it ſhould too much exaſperate the King: Alſo I aſſure you, the joyes of the Princeſs Clotilda were no leſs, who extremely commended you, ſo as Sir, this action has gotten you that glory which you will never loſe: Beſides, all the Ladies think themſelves highly obliged unso you, for attempting the defence of this innocent woman. The Town does univerſally abominate the violence which the king offered unto her, to make her marry A [...]dilan by force: and therefore you may expect a great number of Dorindes friends to aſſiſt you, as ſoon they know where you are: for they are all more generous then to be ſlack in the acknowledgement of ſo great an obligation unto you. Then, ſaid the Prince I give thanks unto God for directing us ſo well, and bringing our intentions to ſo good an end: If the King do but conſider who I am, he will love me better then he did Ardilan; if he do not, then I am reſolved with ſuch good company as will follow me, to follow ſuch fortune as heaven will pleaſe to give me: I aſſure my ſelf it will be good, and give us all contentment, ſince juſtice and equity are the ends which all our deſignes do aim at. Sir, ſaid Alcander further, the Prince your brother hath ſo loadned me and all my companions with ſo many jewels to bring unto you, as I think they out-weigh our arms: And I believe, if we had been able to have carried more, he would have ſent them unto you, leſt you ſhould ſtand in any need of ſuch things in your voyage. Upon this, they laid them all down upon the table, to the admiration of all beholders, at the ſight of ſo many and ſo large and precious jewels together. The Prince received them in teſtimony of his brothers good will, and care that he had of him: Not, ſaid he, that I think I ſhall ſtand in any need of them, as long as I have a ſword by my ſide, and accompanied with ſo many brave men as I ſee about me; but only becauſe I will not refuſe the kindneſs of my brother. Upon this, imbracing them all once more, he commanded one of his ſervants to have a care of thoſe things which his brother had ſent unto him; and then, he with all the company, went out of the chamber unto the place where the Nymphs were, who ſtayed for him in the great chamber, where the cloth being laid, Amaſis would have him to dine. But he being advertiſed of Damons quality, and that his wounds kept him in bed, beſeeched the Nymph to let him go and ſee him before dinner, and teſtifie that eſteem which he had of his valour. Madonthe hearing this reſolution did preſently advertiſe Damon, who received that honour which the Prince did him, with much acknowledgement; and eſteemed this favour at ſuch a rate, that it ever after obliged him unto his ſervice. Every one admired the nobleneſs and generoſity which appeared in all his actions, and his curteſie and [Page] ſweet deportment, did generally get him love of all. After the firſt ſalutions, they entred into ſome diſcourſes of civility, which laſted not long, becauſe dinner was upon the table, and therefore the Prince as conſtrained to abridge it, with a promiſe to continue longer in his company after dinner.

Thus therefore they parted: and Clindor in the mean time had obtained leave of the Nymph to take his gueſts unto his houſe to dinner, becauſe that abundance of company was come in upon a ſudden: He therefore carried with him all the Shepherds and Shepherdeſſes, except Dorinde, whom Amaſis would needs have dine with Gal [...]thea; but then in lieu of her, he carried with him the ſix brothers of Florice, Cercinea, and Palanice, who were not ſorry for it, becauſe of the Intereſt which each of them had in thoſe diſguiſed Shepherdeſſes. The Prince in the mean time ſate down to dinner; and becauſe the Nymph would have him waited upon with ſuch obſervance as was due unto ſo great a Prince, he beſeeched her to uſe him only as a Cavalier, and a ſtranger, that would not yeild unto any in devotion to do her ſervice; but not as the ſon of King Gondebaut, ſince hereafter he would decline both that name and that quality. Sir, ſaid the Nymph unto him, I know that I ſhall pay that debt which I owe unto you, better by my obedience, then by any other way; command therefore what you pleaſe, both I, and all that depend upon me, will exactly obey.

With ſuch diſcourſe as this, they all ſate down; and all dinner time the diſcourſe was only upon Dorindes fortune, and the extream ſorrows of Prince Sigiſmond, that he could not follow her; Dorinde, who ſaw and heard all this, ſhe was ſo raviſhed and confuſed, as ſhe knew not what to judge of her fortune. 'Tis true, that when ſhe called to mind the coming of Prince Godomar, the diſcourſe of his brothers ſorrows, and how he had recommended her unto the Nymph Amaſis, ſhe thought that ſhe was to blame in having conceived ſo ill an opinion of Sigiſmond: yet not knowing the reaſon why he failed to meet her at the place appointed, according to his promiſe, ſhe had a great deſire to ſpeak with Periander and Merind [...]r, aſſuring her ſelf that they would not conceal the truth. And becauſe ſhe ſate very ſad and penſive all dinner time, and the Prince obſerving it: Dorinde, ſaid he unto her, confeſs the truth; are you not now thinking upon thoſe frights which you were in? Sir, anſwered ſhe, I am now in the protection of ſuch perſons as have power to baniſh all fears; but I muſt needs confeſs, that never woman ſo affrighted as I was, when a ſouldier ſeized upon me in Florices Cabin: And had you ſeen us, you would have ſaid there was a wolf was ſeizing upon a lambe; and how, ſaid the Prince, did you eſcape out of his hands? Al [...]xis, anſwered ſhe, the daughter of wife Adamas, who was in that place, gave him ſuch a blow with her fiſt upon his temples, as ſo aſtoniſhed him, that he was forced to let me go; but I believe, if you had ſeen me running in the fields, and a great number of men following after me, you would have ſaid, that fear had fix [...]d wings unto my feet: and yet for all that, but for Bellimartes, Merindor, and Periander, they had carried me away; for one of them had ſeized upon me, but thoſe Cavalie [...]s taught them what it was to injure a woman. I wiſh that I had been there, replied the Prince, for if I had, I promiſe you, not one of them ſhould have eſcaped with his life. Sir, ſaid ſhe, had you ſeen them run away, I believe you would have pittied them: for I, who had moſt reaſon to be offended with them, I proteſt I had compaſſion upon them, when I was told what haſte they made to return unto the place from whence they came: why, ſaid Amaſis, did you not ſee him when they fled? I Madam? anſwered ſhe. I was ſo affrighted, that I ran and hid my ſelf in the cloſeſt corner of the Cabin, and crowded my ſelf into as lettle room as ever I could. But Sir, I beſeech you conſider the malice of my fortune, who in denying me the honour of your enterpriſe, would afflict me ſo for as to give me my deliverance from them, that next Ardilan, I hated the moſt of any men in the world, and to oblige me the more unto them, the one of them was killed, another loſt a brother, and the third a Coſen germane. I ſwear I was ſo ſenſible of this diſpleaſure, that I hardly reſented any contentment in my deliverance. By this, replied the Prince, (and ſmiled) heaven ſhews us that hatred ought not to be perpetual, nor obligation forgotten. O [Page] Sir, replyed ſhe, be pleaſed to know, that I had good cauſe to hate thoſe, unto whom I am now in ſpite of my teeth obliged. At this Alcidon began to ſpeak: In this Madam (ſaid he) you ſhew the nature and humour of all Fair ones; for I never yet ſaw one of your beauty. that did not always prefer offences before ſervices; and which is worſt of all, thoſe offences are commonly imaginary, yet have as much force in them, as if they were real. I cannot tell Sir, anſwered ſhe, of what nature and humour fair ones are, but only by hear-ſay, but I have had ſufficient experience of the nature and humour of men, out of whom hitherto I never yet found but one who did not deceive her▪ unto whom they promiſed fidelity. I would gladly know (ſaid the Prince and ſmiled) who that Phaenix of Lovers is? It is Hylas Sir, anſwered ſhe. Hylas! ſaid Madonthe, why he is the moſt inconſtant Lover that ever was, So he is (ſaid Dorinde) and therefore I think him the leaſt Deceiver; for he will ſay freely and ingeniouſly, that he will change as ſoon as he finds another that will pleaſe him better; and in doing ſo, he deceives no body: whereas others will ſwear and promiſe the contrary, yet afterwards do as he doth. I beſeech you (ſaid Godomar) in what rank do you hold the Prince Sigiſmond. I aſſure you Sir, anſwered ſhe, that upon a ſudden I am much put to it for an anſwer; yet I will tell you, that till I had the honour to ſee you, I placed him in the rank with other men. But Fair one (replyed Godomar) what do you now? Now Sir, ſaid ſhe, I have heard you ſpeak highly in his behalf: But Sir, I conſider that you are his Brother, and perhaps are partial in your relations: You are very incredulous (anſwered the Prince) if you believe neither words nor deeds. I will believe (ſaid ſhe) whatſoever you pleeſe, but I am afraid to be deceived again by any man. That ſhall never be by Godomar, replyed he, for if I ſhould, I ſhould too much injure the affection which my Brother bear unto you.

At the ſame time Periander and all his company whom Clindor had carried with him, returned, and came into the great chamber, and becauſe 'Dorinde was deſirous to break off diſcourſe with the Prince; Sir, ſaid ſhe unto him, if you do not know Hylas, caſt your eye upon that plain Shepherd, whoſe hair is a little inclinable to red, and you may ſee the man that of all Lovers living is the leaſt diſſembler. Upon this Godomar, and all thoſe that heard Dorinde ſay ſo, did caſt their eyes upon Hylas; who ſeeing ſo many look upon him, did think that ſomthing was amiſs about his clothes, and therefore began to look on himſelf round about: But Daphnide who obſerved him; No, no, Hylas (ſaid ſhe unto him) they do not look at any thing in your habit, but at ſomthing in your ſoul. My ſoul, ſaid he, then they muſt have more piercing eyes then ever Ly [...]x had, if they ſee it. I believe it ſo (ſaid Dorinde) to ſee the inſide of any other but Hyla Hylas (replyed he) is the ſon of a woman. Then Shepherd, ſaid Godomar, if you delight in changing, you have ſome to reſemble. Sir, ſaid Hylas, I leave the Ladies to draw the concluſion which you intimate. But Hylas, ſaid Dorinde, I hope you will confeſs with me, that there are more men perſidious unto women, then there are women perfidious unto men: For there is not one woman which does not complain againſt ſome infidelity or other, but I never find any man that complains he hath been deceived. Your argument Madam is very naught (replyed Hylas) for if men do not complain againſt your infidelities, it is becauſe they are aſhamed to complain againſt a thing ſo common and ordinary. Godomar began to laugh, and ſo did Amaſis at this merry anſwer of Hylas; and interrupting Dorinde who was about to anſwer, me thinks (ſaid he unto her) this Shepherd has in a few words very well defended our cauſe.

She would have replyed. When Amaſis and the Prince did riſe from the Table, ſo as this diſcourſe was referred until another time: But Godomar drawing to Dorinde, Believe it fair one (ſaid he unto her in a low voice) the Prince my Brother loves you above his life, and when I have leiſure to talk with you, or you know what meſſage he hath ſent you by me, you will confeſs that he deſerves to be ranked in the number of thoſe who do moſt perfectly love; and becauſe he turned ſuddenly towards Amaſis, he gave her not ſo much time as to anſwer him; yet ſhe bluſhed, not being able to hear this news without much reſentment: and turning towards Florice, Palanice, and Cercinea, my companion (ſaid ſhe, to hide the alteration) [Page] of her face) I ſhould be ſorry to diſturb your company, but the Prince Godomar does oblige me ſo many ſeveral wayes, that I am reſolved not to forſake you this night; for though the Nymph has lodged me in the Caſtle, yet I think it better to return unto our firſt Hoſt, ſince he deſires it, and ſince this houſe is ſo full, that one can hardly turn themſelves in it. I am afraid (anſwered Florice) that the Prince is ſo fearful to loſe you, that he will not permit it. Yet, ſaid Cercinea, it would be more convenient for us to lodge out of this houſe, where we muſt be in a continual conſtraint.

Godomar in the mean time who was very deſirous to get the friendſhip of Damon, of whoſe valour he had received good information; he beſeeched Amaſis to give him leave to ſpend part of the afternoon with him; and ſhe anſwering that ſhe would accompany him, Madonthe ſent preſently to advertize him; and thoſe who went to tell him, found already with him Thamires, Celidea, Palemon, Doris, and the poor Adraſtes, who never forſook Doris, but followed her, as if he were enchanted, unleſs when ſhe went to bed and bolted the door: for the poor Shepherd ſlept there, or at the leaſt lay there, and never ſtirred from thence until ſhe went out again; and had not Palemon given him a Blanket, he had lain upon the hard boards, rather then have ſtirred from the door. When the Prince entred, Thamires was beſeeching Damon to remember his promiſe concerning Celideas cure: And becauſe Damon told him that he was ready ſo any would go with Halladine his ſervant, Thamires offered to undertake the voyage himſelf; Celidea being unwilling to let him go ſo far from her, had rather never recover that Beauty which ſhe loſt, then let him undertake a voyage ſo dangerous, for a thing of ſo worthleſs a value; ſhe reſolved that if he would needs go, ſhe would accompany him. And becauſe Thamiris would not upon any terms ſuffer that, the woman cryed ſo, that when the Prince entred he pitied her, to ſee her eyes ſo ſwell'd with tears; and enquiring of Thamires (whoſe daughter he thought ſhe was) what wrong had been done her; Sir (ſaid Damon, and anſwered for him) you deſire to know a thing which I believe is without example. Be pleaſed to know, that this young Shepherdeſs was one of the faireſt women in all the Country, you ſee how her face is now; they offer to reſtore unto her that Beauty which ſhe loſt, and ſhe cries at the motion. Certainly (ſaid Godomar) this humour is ſingular. But Sir, ſaid Damon, ſtranger yet; ſhe her ſelf did make her face ſo. How? ſaid the Prince, Did ſhe diſfigure her ſelf? Yes Sir, ſaid Damon, and upon as ſtrange a reaſon; for it was to keep her ſelf from being loved. Heavens! ſaid the Prince, a woman not to be equall'd, who being fair, makes her ſelf foul, becauſe ſhe would not be loved; and afterwards angry when they offer to reſtore that Beauty! Sir, ſaid Celidea, and interrupted, Things that give us no contentment, and which bring us much inquietude, ought to be ſo rejected. I muſt needs confeſs (ſaid the Prince) that I ſee ſuch teſtimonies of Vertue in this place, as cannot be enough admired. But Sir, replyed Madonthe, I beſeech you caſt your eye upon this poor Shepherd here, who is gazing upon this Tapeſtry; did you but know his fortune, you would admire it more, and if Dorinde would tell the truth, ſhe would confeſs that all men are not deceivers when they profeſs to love: for he having long loved this Shepherdeſs, when he was out of all hopes of her being his, he loſt his wits, and has ever ſince ſo reſented his loſs, that when he has any good intervalls, he employs them in nothing but in complaining againſt her. I have heard ſay (anſwered the Prince, and looked upon him) that Love may make one mad, but not grief, nor diſpleaſure. But Sir, ſaid Amaſis, they tell us of a Receipt which may cure him, and which we intend to try. What is that? asked the Prince. It is Sir, replyed Adamas, to drive a nail unto the Temple of Jupiter, in the wall which is toward the Veſtry of Minerva; and this nail muſt touch the Temples of the diſtracted party. Indeed anſwered Godomar, beyond the Alpes I have ſeen it uſed, and many have been cured. I aſſure you Sir, replyed Amaſis, if you think it good, we will make tryal of it; for we have thoſe two Temples of Jupiter and Minerva very near one another. I think it a work, replyed the Prince, very pleaſing unto the Gods; for me-thinks there is no ſight under heaven ſo ſad, as to be deprived of his wits, as if Nature had failed in her work, and made a brute Beaſt in lieu of a rational man. Then (ſaid [Page] the Nymph, I think it fit to advertiſe the high Prieſt of it, that he may come and let me underſtand what is requiſite to be done: and Adamas (ſaid ſhe) I commit the charge of it unto you. And I (ſaid Damon) as ſoon as I ſee what will be the effects of it, I will diſpatch Halladin about the cure of this wiſe and vertuous woman, according to my promiſe; and I think it a work no leſs pleaſing unto the Gods then the other: for they are much more pleaſed with the Beauty of Women, then they are with the wits of men; and, as they ſay; have often deſcended from heaven to behold theſe mortal Beauties, but very ſeldom have leſt heaven to take the advice of any man upon earth.

Whilſt the Prince was thus diſcourſing with Damon, Adamas took Amaſis a little apart, and repreſented unto her, that it ſeemed Tautates took a more particular care of her buſineſs then ever ſhe could hope for, ſince he had ſent this young Prince ſo opportunely, and of ſuch near concernment to his brother Sigiſmond, as ſhe might in all probability hope for all manner of help from him, as long as ſhe had Dorinde with her: But it was moſt requiſite that ſhe ſhould prudently take hold of that occaſion which preſented it ſelf: for nothing upon earth was better pleaſing unto the Gods, then to ſee a man prudently defend himſelf againſt the blows of Fortune: Now Madam, the greateſt thing you have to fear, is the Intelligence which the Traytor Polemas holds with the Kings your Neighbours; the moſt powerful of all which, and the moſt dangerous, is Gondebaut: And ſee how this great God hath enfeebled his arm, by giving you, as it were two of his children; and in as much as there are always more perſons that do adore the riſing Sun then the ſetting, aſſure your ſelf Madam, that theſe two young Princes well united as they are, will have more partakers then their Father. That which depends upon your prudence is, to intereſt theſe two Princes ſo in your preſervation, that they may embrace it as a thing wherein in themſelves are concerned. Sigiſmond is already obliged to aſſiſt you, by the protection which you give unto this woman, whom he loves ſo extreamly, that I hope to ſee her Queen of the Burgundians, if I ſurvive King Gondebaut. All the work is to find out a way to intereſt his brother Go [...]omar, for my part, I conceive, that beſides the dear affection which he bears unto his Brother, you ought to oblige him further by the ways of curteſie, till time preſent a better occaſion; for a ſoul ſo generous as his, cannot be faſter tyed then by honour, reverence, and kindneſs. And becauſe theſe Letters which Gondebaut writ unto Polemas, and which are fallen into our hands, may be redoubled, and ſo Polemas come to be advertiſed ſooner then we are aware, of your loſs, I conceive it good to prevent his deſigns; which you may do this way that I ſhall propoſe unto you. You intend that a nail ſhall be driven into the wall of Jupiters Temple for the recovery of this poor Shepherd: I conceive it Madam, to be a good work, and pleaſing unto the great Tautates: and I conceive, that by this occaſion you may preva [...] with Prince Godomar to ſtay here. It is requiſite that he which drives this nail, muſt be the Prime Magiſtrate; and becauſe you are not a man, it is neceſſary that you make a Dictator expreſly for this ceremony; for that's the phraſe and title which the Romans give unto ſuch a one: Now Madam, I believe that when you have well thought upon it, you will not make choiſe of any other perſon but Prince Godomar, as well in conſideration of his quality, as the welfare of your affairs: And I aſſure my ſelf, that upon this occaſion he will take this honour upon him, which perhaps he would refuſe at another time: And if he do once take it upon him, then let him continue it until you be freed from the treaſon of Polemas: By this courſe you will make him as tender of your preſervation, as of his own, and thereby alſo engage the Prince his Brother, and all his Friends.

The Nymph did hearken very attentively unto the Druide; and when he had done, I do approve (ſaid ſhe) of all you ſay); But what muſt I now do? You ought Madam (as I humbly conceive, ſaid the Druide) to acquaint the Prince, that for the cure of this poor Shepherd it is neceſſary he accept of this charge. And when all ceremonies are performed, aſſemble with him Alcidon and Damon, then declare unto him the death of Clidemant, the treaſon of Polemas, the correſpondencies which you fear he holds with the Princes your neighbours; and I am moſt confident, that he being generous, will embrace your defence as willing as you [Page] can deſire him. And becauſe you muſt not diſoblige Alcidon and Damon, I conceive it good, that before you acquaint the Prince Godomar, you talk with them, and ask their advice, and I believe they will ſo freely concur, as they will aſſiſt you in your deſires unto that Prince.

Whilſt they were thus diſcourſing, Godomar went towards Damon, where Alcidon, Daphnide, and Madonthe were talking of the accidents which befel Dorinde, and becauſe that Prince did think that the habit wherein ſhe was (though much different from what ſhe was wont to wear) did well become her, and that ſhe appeared very fair in it, he took a fancy to have her picture drawn in that dreſs; aſſuring himſelf, that his Brother would take great delight to ſee her ſo diſguiſed: And therefore Galathea (Who was talking with Lycidas, and highly pleaſed to ſee ſome Ayr of Celadon in his face, whom ſhe could not entirely forget) hearing her ſelf called by Madonthe, ſhe went preſently unto them; and hearing what Godomar deſired, ſhe told him, that ſhe had a very excellent Artiſt, that could take a piece to the Life, and was very dextrous and quick at it. Such a man (ſaid the Prince) do we want; for I am deſirous to ſend very ſpeedily unto my Brother, and let him underſtand our Fortune, of which I know he will be very glad, ſo as I would not delay this contentment any longer. The Nymph to ſatisfie his longing deſire, ſent preſently for the Limner, who at her command, fell immediately to work though Dorinde was very unwilling, being aſhamed to be ſeen in that dreſs. Why Fair one, ſaid the Prince, can you be ſeen in better company then is here? No Sir, anſwered ſhe but I am aſhamed to be ſeen thus any where but in this Country, where the Shepherdeſſes are ſuch, as beget the admiration and eſteem of all that ſee them. Then for your ſatisfaction ſaid the Prince, we will write under your Feet,

This is DORINDE, one of the Faireſt Shepherdeſses of all Forreſts.

Upon this condition ſhe permitted them, provided they would leave out the Epithet Faireſt. In the mean time, Amaſis having found an apportunity of ſpeech with Damon and Alcidon, whilſt the Prince went to ſee the Artiſt take Dorindes picture in the next room, ſhe acquainted them according to the advice of Adamas; and they did ſo approve of the propoſition, that they themſelves acquainted Godom [...]r with the diſcourſe, when he returned into D [...]mons chamber: and he was all curteſie, accepted of whatſoever the Nymph was pleaſed to impoſe upon him. Therefore ſhe ſending for Adams, ſhe commanded him in the Princes preſence, to prepare all things in readineſs for that action.

The day ſo paſſed away in variety of diſcourſe amongſt theſe Nymphs, Cavaliers, Shepherds, and fair Shepherdeſſes, with ſo much delight and pleaſure, that night ſurprized them before they were aware of it, and forced them to part till the next morning. Amaſis would have ſtayed Dorinde in the Caſtle, but ſhe and her companions made ſo many entreaties, and were ſo unwilling to ſeparate, that the Nymph permitted her to return into the houſe of [...]li [...]dor, who bade them moſt freely welcome, where they were much more free then they could be amongſt ſo many conſtraints and obſervances which they muſt of neceſſity uſe towards Amaſis and Galathea. Merindor and Periander waited upon Dorinde: Alcander and Clorian upon Cercinea, Lucindor and Cerintes upon Glorice, and Amilcar and Selienes upon Palanice. [...]hamires again kept cloſe unto his ſad C [...]lidea, who was quite dejected at the approaching departure of her deareſt Shepherd, and Adraſtes never left following Doris, whom Palemon led by the arm: There was none of all the company who was without his charge but Hylas and Belliſard, who yet paſſed away the time very pleaſantly with all the Ladies, without being engaged unto any one: Alſo there was none in all the company who had not buſineſs of their own to follow, without minding Hylas; for Alcander and Clorian courted Cercinea, Lucindor and Cerintes loved Florice, and Amilcar and Seleines were ſervants [Page] unto 'Palanice, and the beſt conceit was, every one knew of the affection of his Rival. On the other ſide, Periander and Merindor adored Dorinde, who having been deceived by them, as ſhe thought, did nothing but twit them with their infidelity, as often as they mentioned any affection to her; which ſhe did with a more contented mind then before, when ſhe thought that Prince Sigiſmond had alſo deceived.

When they were come to the houſe, theſe Cavaliers, to regain the time which they had loſt in being ſo long from them, reſolved to ſtay as long as ever they could in theſe Ladies chambers: But Dorinde would not upon any terms permit them, excuſing themſelves that they muſt go to bed betimes, becauſe they muſt riſe very early, to be at the Caſtle before Galathea was up. Then they were conſtrained to retire: and as fortune was, Hylas was lodged in the ſame chamber where Alcander, Amilcar, and Beliſaid did lie, and the other four Cavaliers in another chamber. And becauſe theſe two brothers had been long friends unto Hylas, as ſoon as they were in bed, and their beds ſtanding very near unto one another, they fell into diſcourſe of all paſſages that hapned ſince laſt they ſaw each other. For my part, ſaid Hylas, I ſhall quickly have told my tale; for ſince Creſeide, that fair ſtranger, eſcaped the Guards of King Gondebaut, and went towards Gergovia, I followed her; but all in vain. for I could never find her. 'Tis true, I met with Madonthe and Laonice, with whom I came into this countrey, and found in it ſo many very handſome Shepherdeſſes, that I could not poſſibly leave them▪ And to tell you truly, I have taſted of all waters, and tried all kind of lives; but I find none comparable to the ſweet lives of Shepherds in this countrey: for though their garments be courſe, and their converſation ſmell a little of the Village, yet they are more diſcreet, and more civil, then any I ever coverſed withall. Amongſt the reſt, there is one Sylvander, whoſe acuteneſs of wit cannot be ſufficiently admired nor commended. As for the Shepherdeſſes, they are fair and handſome, beyond all expreſſion or imagination: All the ſorts and ad [...]lterations of cities are ſo far excelled by the natural gayneſs of theſe Shepherdeſſes, as it is impoſſible to look upon them and not love. You have ſeen Florice, Palancie, and Cercinea, ſeveral times, and have heard how their beauties have been cried up in Lions: Let them come amongſt the Shepherdeſſes of Licynon, and they are but as ſo many candles to the Sun. Fie, fie, ſaid Alcand [...]r until now I will pardon you, but to ſay that any Shepherdeſs under the Sun is fairer then Circinea, I cannot endure. Had you ſpoke only of Florice and Palanice, I ſhould have thought it ſomething probable; but as for Cercinea, no beauty upon earth ever equall'd hers. Brother, ſaid Amilcar, and interrupted him, Palancie muſt challenge preheminence above all beauties that ever lived, and will ſufficiently anſwer for her ſelf: As for Florice and Cercinea, let Hylas ſay what he pleaſes, ſo he leaves Palanice out of his compariſons, ſince it is not reaſonable, that ſhe whom heaven never gave an equal, ſhould ſo unjuſtly be inferioured.

What my ſons? (ſaid Hylas unto them and ſmiled) have you any intereſt in theſe women, that you take their parts ſo zealouſly? Any intereſt, anſwed Alcander; good Hylas, in what countreys have you been in, that you are ſo ignorant of it? what intereſt, and ſince when? replies Hylas, for when I was with you, I never knew of any. Have you been at Lyons, ſaid Amilcar, ſince the death of Thombres? No, ſaid he: Then, ſaid Amilcar; the affection which we have unto thoſe fair Ladies began ſince that time. Alſo, if you remember, it is not long ſince our father cauſed us to return home to his houſe, True, anſwered Hylas, but have you been ever ſince in love? I think there requires more time in contracting love then fiendſhip.

I believe, anſwered Alcander, there is more time requiſite to the choice of a friend then a miſtreſs. Then, replied Hylas, (ſince it is ſo, and ſince we are entred into diſcourſe) it is not likely any of us can ſleep ſo ſoon, I beſeech you let me know all the ſtory of your affections, that I may give my ſelf a check when I ſpeak of the beauty of your Miſtreſſes. I will, ſaid Alcander, upon condition you will not any more, for my ſake, diſpiſe the beauty of Cercinea, nor of Palanices for my brothers ſake. No, nor you Stellas (anſwered the inconſtant) for Hylas [Page] his ſake. We do promiſe it, ſaid Alcander, but one thing is very requiſit before I begin. What's that? ſaid Hylas, you muſt either come into our bed, ſaid Alcander, or elſe we come in yours: for it ſhall be a great trouble unto me to ſpeak ſo loud. It is but reaſon, ſaid Hylas, that the ſcholler ſhould go unto the maſter: ſo leaping out of his bed, he went into theirs, where after a while Alcander began thus, whileſt Belliſaid ſlept.

The Hiſtory of ALCANDER, AMILCAR, CERCINEA, PALANICE, and FLORICE.

THere are ſome who ſay that love proceeds neither from ſimpathy nor deſtiny but from deſigne and will of the lover: and that the original of this affection has its riſe from the violence of beauty, which does tiranize over the faculties of the ſoul: but ſuch, have not had that experience which Amilcar and I have had: for had they, they would preſently be of another opinion, and confeſs with us, that every one is at his nativity deſtinied unto her whom he muſt love and ſerve. This is a poſition (ſaid Hylas and interrupted) which I cannot believe nor grant: for were it ſo, nuto which of the thirty or fourty whom I have ſerved will you decree me by ſimpathy and deſtiny? To that, anſwered Amilcar, we will ſpeak another time; for a general rule muſt ſtill be obſerved, though it may haue ſome exceptions; and beſides, Hylas is a monſter in love, quite different from the nature of other lovers. This, anſwered Hylas, and ſmiled, ſmells of Silvander, but Alcander continued.

You muſt know, ſaid he, that a little before the marriage of Florice, ſiſter unto Amilcar and me, unto Theombres, our father ſent for us to return home unto his houſe, having no mind until then, that we ſhould be with him, until we had ſo qualified our ſelves ſutable to the degree of our Anceſtours. In our more tender yeares he ſent us to the moſt famous Univerſities, to be inſtructed in the liberal Sciences and Arts: when we were grown to be more men; he cauſed us to be taught in all the exerciſes and behaviours of the body, as riding, fencing, dancing, and the like: and afterwards ſent us abroad to learn the languages, and know the manners and cuſtomes of our neighbours; then when we were arived at the age of two or three and twenty years, he ſent for us home unto his houſe, where we were ſuch ſtrangers in our own countrey, and knew ſo very few, that had we not been told Florice was our ſiſter, we could not have known her to be ſo.

Our return was (as you know) a little before Florices marriage, and when we began to love one another, Theombres carried her out of the Town: ſo as we loſt her almoſt as ſoon as we found her: but heaven it ſeems had pity upon us, and reſtored her back in a ſhort time, by the death of Theombres, who lived not above three months after he was married. She took her loſs as ſhe ought to do, and we helped her in this charitable office, but our tears were quickly dried up: for the diſpoſition of this man was not very pleaſing, and ſhe married him rather as a fortune then as a lover, without any fancy to him.

Our ſiſters ſorrows ſunk not ſo deep into her ſoul, but ſhe was quickly comforted by the affection which we expreſſed unto her; and ſhe in requital to make our ſtay at home with our father, as little tedious unto us as poſſibly ſhe could: and doubtleſs that droning kind of life, ſo different unto that which we had been accuſtomed unto, had been intollerable to us without her ſweet converſation. Some dayes after Florice was returned home, and her mourning not of ſo deep a black, but would allow her colours, ſhe took notice of the melancholy lives we led, and few recreations we frequented: Brothers, ſaid ſhe unto us, I am ſorry to ſee you droop thus; but I muſt divert you ſome wayes or other, ſo as you ſhall find this place not ſo drowſie as you did at firſt. Our father does tire you with theſe viſits [Page] of kindred, who never talk of any thing but ſerious matters: but I will make you acquainted with ſome of my aſſociates, and dare lay a wager, you will not think them ſo dull and tedious as his. We who had lived with our father in a kind of impriſoned conſtraint, and could not indure it any longer, did intreat her to be as good as her word. She deferred the effecting of her promiſe, no longer then the next morning, when ſhe carried us unto the houſe of Cercinea, where we found Palanice, Dorinde, Cloris, Parthenopea, and ſome others, all very fair and handſome women. But Hylas, to prove the deſtiny which I ſpoke of, I did no ſooner caſt my eye upon Cercinia, but I found in her ſo many allurements unto love, that I could not deny her my heart, and my soul: My brother alſo at the ſame time thought Palanice ſo lovely, that he could not chuſe but beſtow himſelf wholly upon her.

Now let thoſe who think that it is beauty which doth tiranize over our ſouls, tell me the reaſon why Cercineas beauty ſhould not tiranize as well over the ſoul of Amilcar as mine; or why Palanice ſhould not have as powerful an influence upon my heart, as upon my brothers? I am confident that mauger all their reaſons, they will confeſs, that it was deſtiny and fate that did diſpoſe of us as they pleaſed.

Deſtiny, I ſay, decreed that we ſhould at one and the ſame time receive two great loſſes: for the loſs of our liberty, was preſently after ſeconded with the loſs of a father, who being of a great age, was alſo ſeized upon by a violent feaver, which in few dayes brought him to his grave. Perhaps if the new affection which we had conceived unto theſe two Ladies, had not been written in the fatal book of deſtiny, this laſt loſs might have ſtifled it in his grave: for the truth is, we took it more ſadly to heart then others uſe; but Hylas, what can reſiſt fatality? For our affections by this contrariety, increaſed as a flame will by contrary wind.

There is nothing which hinders a growing love from taking deep root, more then to be out of ſight of the party loved, becauſe the eyes are they that give beginning unto love, and the ſight does nouriſh it and make it grow: ſo as when this ſight is denied, commonly love dies, or at leaſt languiſhes. But this, we found, might hold true unto others, who love by election, but not unto us who were decreed unto it by unreſiſtable Fate: for being conſtrained to obſerve the ceremonies of mourning, we were a long time deprived of the ſight of theſe beauties, but all would not do any good: only helped to make our miſery more painful, and hard to be indured.

But the dayes of deepeſt mourning being paſt; it is the cuſtome, upon ſuch accidents for friends and nighbours to come and viſit the mourners, as well to condole with them and offer their aſſiſtance, as to renew that amity and friendſhip which they formerly had with the predeceſſour. All our friends and neighbours, failed not to pay thoſe duties of civillty: ſo as our houſe was frequented as much as any famous Temple; Palanice and Cercinea, amongſt the reſt that were intimate friends unto my mother and ſiſter, were not failing at this viſit: and we who were almoſt alwayes with Florice, were, heaven knows, moſt glad to ſee them. The truth is the death of our father did greatly afflict us; and there was not the leaſt appearance of any mirth in our houſe, until theſe two fair Ladies were pleaſed to come unto it. But then, I muſt confeſs, the mourning of Amilcar and me, did vaniſh like a cloud before the Sun. When Cercinea had complemented my mother a long while, ſhe came to render the ſame civilities unto Florice: and becauſe I could never ſatisfie my eyes with looking upon her, I drew near unto my ſiſter; and after I had thanked Cercinea for the pains ſhe was pleaſed to take in coming to a houſe ſo full of ſorrows, and that in requital of this honour, we offered unto her all our ſervices, Florice was conſtrained to go and ſay as much unto Palanice: ſo as Cercinea and I remained together at a diſtance from the reſt of the company: this invited me, in purſuance of my former diſcourſe, to ſay unto her; the truth is, faireſt Cercinea, I have very little reaſon to thank you for this favour, ſince I foreſee more harm then ever I can hope for good by this viſit. She who did not yet perceive the affection which I had unto her, for all former demonſtrations [Page] of kindneſſes were received only under the notion of civilities and courteſies, I cannot tell Alcander, ſaid ſhe unto me, what harm my viſit may do unto you; but I am ſure that I have no intentions of doing any: if you have no intention Madam (ſaid I unto her) then it is my deſtiny, for certainly Cercinea will be the cauſe of Alcanders death: Who I? ſaid ſhe, the cauſe of your death? Doubtleſs you will, anſwered I: but I will pardon you, not being my ſelf able to be diſpleaſed with it.

Upon this we were parted, by the coming in of a great number of Ladies, and after that, I could not renew this diſcourſe all that day. In the mean time Amilcar, who would not, no more then I, loſe this opportunity, he accoſted Palanice. I did not think Madam, ſaid he unto her, that the beauties of this countrey had been ſo cruel as I find them; what cruelties Sir, ſaid ſhe, do you complain of? of yours Madam, replied he, who are not contended to ſee this houſe ſo full of ſadneſs, but you will add more ſorrows unto it. Your ſorrows, replied ſhe, and ſmiled, are doubtleſs to be condoled; but I do not ſee which way I am any addition unto them, or if I be, I am ſure it is very innocently. That innocency, ſaid he, is not enough to repair my loſs which you have cauſed, without ſome other cordial.

Doubtleſs their diſcourſe had continued longer, had they not been interrupted by the ſame accident which ſevered Cercinea and me. And judge whether deſtiny did not drive us both unto this affection, ſince the words by which we made the firſt overtures of our loves unto theſe Ladies, were almoſt the very ſame, although we did not conſult together about it.

Now though theſe few words wrought no great effects, yet they ſerved, at the leaſt to open the eyes of Cercinea and Palanice, and let them know that we were in love with them: And upon the next opportunity of diſcourse with them, we found not the difficulty ſo great to make them underſtand us. It was not long before we had that opportunity, for when the firſt dayes of mourning are paſt, it is cuſtomary to return thoſe viſits which we received: and you may well imagine that my brother and I were not very backward in paying ſuch debts unto thoſe fair ones, with whom we might have what opportunity of ſpeech we pleaſed. Florice who accompanied us thither, and obſerved that I had talked very long unto Cercinea, when we were returned, ſhe took me aſide, and ſaid unto me: I forgot brother to advertiſe you, when I ſhewed you Cercinea, that you ſhould have a ſpecial care of being ſurpiſed by her beauty: for ſhe is ſo engaged another way, as I fear you will take abundance of pains for very ſmall contentment: O my dear ſiſter, anſwered I, your councel comes too late, for I am already ſo deeply engaged, that there is no hopes of any retreat till death. O Heavens brother, cried ſhe, I pity you extremely, and am very ſorry that I was the cauſe of your ſeeing her, for there is not a beauty in all the countrey more likely to make one in love then ſhe. You muſt know that Clorian brother unto Palanice does ſo poſſeſs her, as I believe none whomſoever can divert her from him. Siſter, ſaid I unto her, you aſtoniſh me extremely, in telling me ſhe is ſo engaged unto a man: perhaps, anſwered ſhe, I do not mean as you do, when I ſay that ſhe is engaged unto Clorian, my meaning is, that he being brother unto Palanice, and Palanice the moſt intimate friend of Cercinea; and beſides, the husband which Palanice had (for you muſt know ſhe was married) being uncle unto Cercinea, and as long as he lived, ſhe was alwayes with his wife: theſe conſiderations hath cauſed Cercinea to honour her, as much as if her husband was living: ſo as Palanice has a great command over her, and ſhe loving her brother Clorian extremely well, ſhe gives him ſuch acceſs unto Cercinea, and has ſuch a hand over her, that ſhe dare hardly turn her eye without her leave. Not that I will ſay ſhe loves him, or that any thing has paſſed between them that is unhandſome, for ſhe is eſteemed to be a very virtuous and diſcreet Lady. But certain it is, that ſhe being without father or mother, ſhe ſuffers the ſiſter of Clorian to have ſo much authority over her, as it is not credible any elſe can be entertain'd. If it be ſo, ſaid I, that Clorian loves her, and that Palanice has all the power, why is not the marriage compleated? very many, anſwered ſhe, who are ignorant of the cauſe, and yet ſee their affections, [Page] have asked the ſame queſtion; but in anſwer to it, you muſt know that Cercinea has two brothers, the one of which is extremely in love with Palanice, and becauſe he loves him not, and to colour it, pretends ſhe will not marry again, he is reſolved that Cercinea ſhall never marry Clorian, unleſs Palanice take him for her husband; and Palanice being obſtinate, is the cauſe why Clorians contentment is retarded: This ſiſter, replied I, is the beſt news you could tel me, for certainly if I had no hopes of Cercinea, there was no hopes in my life: But Siſter, if you love me, let me be acquainted with the Brother of Cercinea, that I may, if it be poſſible, gain him. Brother, anſwered ſhe, and ſmiled, I would acquaint you with another ſecret if I durſt, and which perhaps may be more advantagious to you. Dear Siſter, ſaid I unto her, I conjure you, as you love my life, conceal nothing that may advantage me in this buſineſs; for heavens ſake out with it, ſince nothing ought to be hidden betwixt us. Florice ſmiled, ſince you deſire it ſo ſeriouſly (ſaid ſhe) I will tell it unto you; but Brother, upon condition you receive this teſtimony of my affection to you, as the greateſt that I can do you.

Know then, that Cercinea has two brothers, the elder is called Selenes, and the younger Lucindor: The elder (as I told you) is deſperately in love with Palanice; and Luci [...]dor; at this word ſhe ſtopped and ſmiled, and Lucindor (ſaid I) is in love with Palanice too: Nay, nay, replyed ſhe, and ſmiled, it is not ſo; and then laying her hand upon her eyes, which made her more confident to ſpeak, ſhe ſaid, and Lucindor ſays he loves me, though I do not believe him: but I dare boldly ſay, that at my entreaty he will do you the beſt ſervice he can, for I am confident he will not deny me any thing I ask. Oh deareſt Siſter (ſaid I, and took her hand) my life and my death is in your hands, and if you do not help me in this condition which you your ſelf have cauſed, you are the moſt mercileſs Siſter that ever was. Oh Heavens! Alcander (ſaid ſhe unto me) what a task do you put upon me? And what will Lucindor ſay of me? Do you not conſider how I ſhall engage my ſelf unto him? Siſter, ſaid I very ſeriouſly, I beſeech you hear me, and miſtake me not; but be aſſured that if my affection to Cercinea were not qualified with all the conditions of a vertuous Love, I would rather die, then employ you in it: I do love her with intention to marry her, not abuſe her. And as for Lucindor, he being the Brother of Cercinea, I will think him to be a man of merit; and if he be, why may he not marry you? Your young years will not let you continue long in a widowed habit; and for my part, I will never adviſe you ſhould Oh Brother, replyed ſhe, talk no more of that I beſeech you for Theombres is yet too freſh in my memory to entertain any ſuch thoughts. Oh the groſſeſt piece of folly that ever was, replyed I; Do not I know that you married him only out of obedience to my Father and yours? And what great affection could you therefore have unto him? Ah Alcander, anſwered ſhe and ſmiled, you are very pleaſantly diſpoſed; why might not I conceive affection unto Theombres in three moneths ſpace, as well as you unto Cercinea in a moment? Oh Brother, did you know how the Bonds of marriage do oblige every good wife unto it, you would change your diſcourſe: For the knots of it are tyed to faſt, and are ſo dear, that they can never be unlooſed without reſentments of ſorrow, ſo as a ſeparation is like unto that of the ſoul and the body. But though this conſideration which is very great, had no force in me; yet there is another which is prevalent enough to keep me from any more marriages, which is Brother, The extream jealouſie which he had conceived of me, ſo as I thought my life to be a torment unto me: As for Theombres, I ſhould have thought my ſelf the happieſt of all my Family, had he not taken this toy in his head. Now after all theſe great inconveniences, would you have me ſo mad as to plunge my ſelf into the like miſeries again? Why Siſter, ſaid I unto her, will Lucindor be jealous? Or why ſhould you think he will? Alcander, anſwered ſhe and ſmiled, I ſee you deſire to know all, and I will tell you, ſince I am reſolved to hide no action of my life from you. You know Brother, that in this great City there is abundance of company, and one cannot chuſe but be ſeen, and converſe with ſeveral perſons: It happens that many perſons ſeeing us, many come to love us, or at the leaſt ſeem ſo: for I believe that is the cuſtome of moſt men: But however, many eyes being upon us, they [Page] will ſee theſe addreſſes, be they true or falſe; and thus this multitude of acquaintance produceth this enemy; or rather, this mortal diſeaſe of Love, which is called Jealouſie. Lucindor having obſerved one of Palanices brothers did ſeem to love me, or perhaps loved me in earneſt, he became ſo jealous upon it, that he will let me nor himſelf take any reſt. How? Siſter (ſaid I and ſmiled) I beſeech you explain this a little better unto me; Does this Brother of Palanices love you, and did not you ſay that he loved Cercinea? Is he in love both with you and her? No, anſwered ſhe, Palanice has two Brothers, The one is called Clorian, who is in love with Cercinea, and the other is called Cerintes, who makes a ſhew of ſome good will unto me. This Siſter (ſaid I unto her, and laughed heartily) is one of the fineſt encounters that ere could happen: Palanice has two Brothers, the one of which is called Ceraſtes, who loves you; and the other is called Clorian, who is in love with Cercinea. Cercinea alſo hath two brothers, Selcines loves Palanice, and Lucindor courts you; And you Florice, you may ſay, that theſe two fair Ladies cannot lend you any thing, but you are able to pay them back again in their own coyn: for as I do love the fair Cercinea, ſo Amilcar is deſperately in love with Palanice. How? cryed out Florice) Amilcar in love with Palanice? Yes, yes, replyed I, moſt deſperately. This (replyed ſhe) were an excellent ſubject for a Comedy. I would it were, replyed I, for Comedies, they ſay, conclude always with a marriage: but yet ſince we are ſix, and you but three, ſome of us muſt of neceſſity be diſcontended; for I am ſure I will ſuffer none to ſhare with me in her that I do love. Do you think (ſaid ſhe) that any one of us would be divided into two? As for that, anſwered I, I refer it unto your ſelf: But Siſter, all that I require from you, is, to work ſo with Lucindor, that his Siſter may love me; and with Cerintes, that he work ſo with Palanice, that ſhe may take Clorion off from his Courtſhip of Cercinea.

It was by this diſcourſe, Hylas, that I came to the knowledge of all theſe ſecret paſſages; and becauſe I could not ſay any more, by reaſon that many perſons came in and interrupted us; The conclusion was, that ſhe promiſed not only to aſſiſt me with all her power, but alſo to deal ſo with Cerintes, that Amilcar ſhould find no ill entertainment from Palanice: for (ſaid ſhe) I think my ſelf obliged to aſſiſt you both, ſince I was the cauſe of your being in love.

Thus then we parted; and becauſe I was advertiſed of Clorians affection unto Cercinea, and of the influence which Palanice had upon her, I thought to gain ſome of Cercineas good will, before either the Brother or the Siſter took notice of it; to the end, that when Clorian entreated his Siſter to do me any ill offices, ſhe might be armed a little before hand in my defence: and therefore the way that I took to oblige her, was principally diſcretion; having heard that nothing does more engage a maid to love then it; and it is but mean prudence to employ any confidents in the buſineſs: I have already told you how I made the firſt declaration of my affection; and I ſaid no more unto her for ſome days after: but being almoſt continually with her, all the demonſtrations that I gave her of it, was a moſt obſervant reſpect; and to the end ſhe might know that it was a reſpect wh [...]ch proceeded from Love, and not from civility only, I behaved my ſelf towards Palanice after another manner, and did not render unto her any more then that honour which every Cavalier is obliged to pay unto Ladies of her qualities. My carriage to the one was a common road of complement, and to the other, a particular reverence, which glanced ſparks of Love:

One day, when Cercinea was at Palanices houſe, ſhe would waſh her hands before a collation; I, as I always uſed to be, was cloſe by her to hold her Gloves; ſhe was nothing nice in giving them unto me, becauſe it was a trivial ſervice which any would freely undertake: And pretending to have a little buſineſs at my own houſe, I went thither as faſt as poſſibly I could, and with the ſame haſte, wrote this in one of her Gloves.

[Page] If I be not Yours, I am not mine Own, Nor Any's elſe.

Cercinea took her Gloves again, but took no notice at that time what I had written in them: but at night when ſhe was going to bed, her chamber-maid made the diſcovery. Miſtris (ſaid ſhe unto her) who gave you theſe Gloves? How? (ſaid ſhe) who gave them? Are they not the ſame I wore in the morning? I cannot tell, anſwered ſhe, but I did not ſee what is written in one of them; and then ſhe brought them unto her, for ſhe was in bed. Cercinea reading it, and remembring that I had them once in my hands; but becauſe ſhe would not truſt this maid who was wholly for Clorian and Palanice, ſhe ſeemed as if ſhe could not poſſibly deviſe who it ſhould be that writ it; and to ſhew how little ſhe cared for it, ſhe gave the Gloves unto Andronira (ſo was the wench called.) I wiſh Miſtris (ſaid ſhe unto her, and thanked her) that he who writ this in theſe Gloves, may often do ſo; and I aſſure you, did I know him, I would give him hearty thanks. Thou wouldſt do well (anſwered ſhe, and ſmiled) for the gift deſerves it. I believe (ſaid ſhe) that the gift is very precious unto him, who is the cauſe of your giving them unto me; and if I ſhould preſent them unto him from you, he would thank me with all his heart. Take heed of ſuch a trick, replyed Cercinea, for you may chance do me an extream diſpleaſure. Why ſhould I take any heed? replyed Andronira; I do not know who it is. And if thou didſt (ſaid Cercinea) wouldſt thou do it? Never doubt it Madam, anſwered ſhe, for I am extreamly pitiful unto thoſe that are in love; and beſides. I am ſure Clorian would give me hearty thanks for informing him. As for Clorian (replyed Cercinea) if you would have me live in peace with Palanice and him, be ſure you do not acquaint him with it. What need you care Madam, anſwered ſhe, as long as you know not who it was? No matter, replyed Cercinea, I would not have him ſee them; and then feigning as if ſhe had not read what was written, let me ſee them again Andronira ſaid ſhe) that I may read it; and ſhe having given them unto her, Go, go to bed (ſaid Cercinea) thou art ſuch a fool, that thou ſhalt not have them. Ah Miſtris! cryed ſhe, then reſtore me back the thanks which I gave unto you. If that will content thee (ſaid Cercinea) prithee take them with all my heart, and I will give thee another pair of Gloves beſides; Then calling for a Cabinet where ſhe kept ſuch things, ſhe gave her another pair of Gloves. Miſtris (ſaid Andronira and thanked her) you have taught me a way never to want Gloves. How? asked Cercinea. Why Madam (ſaid ſhe) when theſe are worn out, I will get ſome body to write a little upon thoſe you wear, and you will preſently give me a new pair in exchange of them. Thou ſayſt right, ſaid Cercinea, but in the mean time, leave me to my reſt.

Now Cercinea knew very well that it was I who writ upon them, and though ſhe had no thoughts that were advantagious unto me, yet would ſhe not upon any terms let Clorian ſee them; and leſt this wench ſhould ſhew them unto him, ſhe choſe rather to keep them: yet it was impoſſible to avoid that which heaven had decreed, as you ſhall hereafter underſtand.

In the mean time, this trivial paſſage was not altogether, unprofitable; for Cercinea remembring the words that I had ſpoke unto her, and ſeeing with what obſervance I behaved my ſelf, ſhe was better aſſured by the reading of theſe words, that I did really love her; and though ſhe was far engaged with Clorian, yet could [...]he not reject this affection.

After ſhe had a while conſulted with her ſelf, whether ſhe ſhould cheriſh this humour in me, or give me cauſe to quit it and her; at laſt ſhe reſolved to let this have its free courſe, thinking ſhe could give it a ſtop when ſhe pleaſed.

Some few days after ſhe came to ſee my Siſter, and by fortune I was not at home, having then accompanied Amilcar unto Palanices houſe; and taking my Siſter aside, ſhe ſhewed her thoſe Gloves upon which I had written: Flories preſently [Page] knew the hand; but making a ſhew as if ſhe thought it the act of Clorian, What? ſaid ſhe will this love laſt always? How? ſaid Cercinea, laſt always! What love do you mean? It had been a much more pertinent queſtion to have asked when it began? Why? anſwered Florice, all the world knows that Clorian loves you: I do believe it, replyed Cercinea, and am ſorry for it: I believe every one ſees the folly of Clorian: but ſuch paſſages as this are not uſual with him: Pray look upon it a little better, and ſee if you can know the hand? Then taking the Gloves, and looking upon the writing a little more preciſely, ſhe cryed out, Oh Cercinea, I know it very well, it is the hand of one that is very neerly allied unto me; I have often advis'd him to make no further attempts upon that deſigne, and told him it was better to retreat betimes; then be foyld in a buſineſs which he would never bring to paſs. Ah Florice (anſwered Cercinea) what ſtrange offence have I committed againſt you, that you ſhould wiſh me ſo much harm? Aſſure your ſelf, anſwered Florice, that I never entertained the leaſt thought of any harm unto you; but I was loth that Alcander ſhould attempt a thing wherein he ſhould be baffled. And how do you know things future? replyed Cercinea. I do not know them ce [...]tainly, anſwered Florice, but I can foreſee by probable conjectures; and you your ſelf, if you will, can tell it as well as I. Then I will tell you ſeriouſly, replyed Cercinea, 'tis true, Clorian has ſuch a Fancy in his head, which might well move you to ſpeak thus; but it is more true, that if I continue in the ſame mind wherein I am, he ſhall never bring what he intends to paſs; not that I would by theſe expreſſions engage Alcand [...]r any farther in his deſigne which he ſeems to have: for beſides my unwillingneſs to put him unto ſo much pains, I have no deſire to be loved: But take this for a moſt certain truth, That I am very ſorry the indiſcretion of Clorian is ſuch, and ſo diſadvantagious to me, as makes me weary of it and him. Since you are pleaſed to ſpeak ſo freely unto me, anſwered my Siſter, let me tell you again, that I think the courtſhip of Clorian is not diſadvantag [...]ous unto you, unleſs it be in this, that he does ſeem in publique to have ſo much authority over you, as makes the world believe he has more in private; and whether this be prejudicial unto you, I leave it unto your own judgement. For my part, I think you would do much better if you by degrees get this abſolute authority out of his hands; for ſo you will let the world ſee, that the fault is not yours, and that thoſe whoſe profeſſion is to cenſure the actions of others, are groſly miſtaken in the diſcretion of the man. Oh Florice (ſaid Cercinea) this counſel is eaſie to give, but very difficult to execute; and did you know the humour of Palanice, you would confeſs as much; when we have more leiſure, I ſhall more fully inform you: But in the mean time (continued ſhe, and ſmiled) do not think I deſire Alcander ſhould trouble himſelf ſo far as to love me; and to tell you truly, I think my ſelf obliged unto you for diſſwading him; alſo you will add unto the obligation, if you continue it, though I know you will find no great difficulty in ſo doing; for I aſſure my ſelf he does but jeſt. At theſe words my Siſter obſerved that ſhe bluſhed a little, which made her think, that what ſhe ſaid was not the deſires of her heart: yet ſeeming to believe her according to her words, ſhe anſwered her, I wiſh Cercinea, as well for your own intereſt as my Brothers, you would free your ſelf from this importunity; but I fear you will not.

Upon theſe words they parted, becauſe Amilcar and I entred into the room, and preſently after us, entred Cerintes and Silcines: for my part, aſſoon as I had ſaluted all the company, I applyed my ſelf unto Cercinea; Cerintes, he began to court Florice, and Silcines and Amilcar ſate down by Palanice, whom we brought along with us, I muſt confeſs that I was not very attentive unto the diſcourſe of the company, being ſo joyed to have found her alone whom I deſired, as I thought heaven was very favourable unto me: I ſay alone, though all this good compan [...] was there, becauſe I eſteemed it ſo, ſince Clorian was not preſent; for if he had, I could hardly have had any opportunity of diſcourſe with her. Seeing her therefore to wear the ſame Gloves in which I had writ, I ſwear, faireſt Cercinea, ſaid I unto her, that all in thoſe Gloves is full of Truth. I doubt it not (ſaid ſhe unto me) for my hands are in them, and they are true. Your hands (replyed I) ought to have not only the Epithet of true, but alſo of the faireſt hands in the world: [Page] but there is ſomething yet in your gloves which you have not ſpoke of. She who ſeemed not to underſtand my meaning; there is alſo (added ſhe) ſome rings which I wear upon my fingers, which are likewiſe true rings. There is yet, replied I, ſomething elſe. What can there be? ſaid ſhe (and ſeemed to wonder) for my part, I neither ſee nor feel any thing elſe. O Cercinea, then anſwered I and ſighed, there is ſmall hopes of any happineſs unto me, when my heart is in your hands and you feel it not, nor will ſo much as look upon that writing which touches them. She then ſmiling, how ſhould I feel your heart, ſaid ſhe, if it be not there: then pulling her hand out of her glove, ſee, ſaid ſhe, if any heart be here. But ſee, replied I, if it be poſſible, ſo fair a hand ſhould be there, and not have an infinit number of hearts. Then taking the glove, and ſhewing the writing unto her; See here, ſaid I, whether I ſay truly or no, for I ſee there what my heart did write. She ſeeming as if ſhe never ſaw it before, truly Alcander, ſaid ſhe, you are very bold with me, in writing thus in my gloves: do you think I take any delight in ſuch foolery? Then taking a pair of ſiſſers, ſhe ſeemed as if ſhe would ſcrape it out, but interpoſing my hand, I ſaid unto her, I moſt humbly begg a pardon Madam, upon the gradure of my affection, and the boldneſs whereof you accuſe me; and believe it fair Cercinea, it is in vain to ſcrape out that writing, ſince they are ſo engraved in that heart which I have devoted unto you, or rather you have raviſhed from me, that neither time or death it ſelf can ever deface it. Alcander; ſaid ſhe, I value neither your heart nor your tongue, knowing neither the one nor the other to be true, but though they were, I will not burthen my ſelf with any ſuch kind of merchandize. I muſt needs confeſs, anſwered I very faintly, that this merchandize not being worth much, and you eſteeming it leſs, you have no reaſon to be burthened with it, for if ever once you take it upon you, you can never ſhake it off: that is not my meaning, replied ſhe and ſmiled; but on the contrary, I know your merit, and eſteem you as I ought to do; but this merchandize whereof you ſpeak, is of ſuch a nature, that though I had it in my hands, it would not ſtay long there, it being like to thoſe quinteſſences which vaniſh all into ſmoke. But Alcander, to be plain with you, my meaning in effect is, that I have no inclination either to love, or to be loved. 'Tis ſtrange, replied I, you ſhould be ſo ignorant in a thing wherein you have been ſo well taught. Alcander, Alcander (ſaid ſhe with a ſmiling eye, and giving me a gentle blow upon my hand) you are a very diſſembler, and aſſu re your ſelf I take all you ſay under that notion. Faireſt Cercinea, anſwered I, if I be not moſt really devoted your ſervant, then I am not Alcander, and I wiſh heaven may never let me live longer, then I love and adore you with all the faculties of my ſoul and body.

She would have anſwered, and had half opened her mouth to ſpeak when ſhe ſtopt upon a ſudden, and changing countenance and behaviour towards me▪ ſhe ſeeming to become quite another. This alteration did aſtoniſh me: but looking back towards the door, I ſaw Clorian with Lucindor enter. Imagine, Hylas, you ſaw a little child under the rod after he had committed ſome fault: juſt ſo looked Cercinea and Florice, when Lucindor and Clorian ſurprized the one with me, and the other with Cerintes: and though I had intereſt in them both, yet I could not chuſe but laught; But to ſhew my diſcretion towards Cercinea, ſeeing in what trouble ſhe was when Clorian ſaw me alone with her, I made a ſhew of going to receive him and Lucindor alſo, and of doing them the honour of the houſe: Florice did the like; and therefore every one for company roſe up: but for all this, Clorian took notice that Cercinea did talk with me, and Lucindor obſerved Florice talking with Cerintes: ſo as when they firſt entred, their faces were full of ſevere and ſurly looks, and ſeemed to be much troubled, but Cercinea much more; yet they endeavoured as well as they could to put good faces upon the matter, and clear up all clouds of ſuſpition.

Clorian did not yet know of a certainty, that I loved Cercinea, but his doubts of ſuch a thing, and his humour of ſuffering none to ſpeak unto that Lady, did make him knit the brows, and look ſo ſurly as he did. I muſt confeſs this demeanure of Cercinea's did much diſpleaſe me, and I was in a hundred minds to love her no longer; but then as ſoon as ever I looked upon her face, I yielded unto the power [Page] of her beauty, and ſhrugging my ſhoulders complained againſt my unjuſt fate, that had made me a ſlave unto a ſlave.

At the laſt, night drawing on, every one retired homewards, and Cercinea gave me ſuch a cold good night, as if I had committed ſome grand offence againſt her; yet thinking it was only becauſe of Clorian, I would not, as I uſed, wait upon her to her houſe, but went home.

When I was at my own houſe Florice related unto me all her diſcourſe with Cercinea, and afterwards added, Shall I tell you brother, what I think, certainly ſhe will be more eaſily taken off Clorian, then ever I thought ſhe would: and the truth is he is ſo very imperious over her, as I wonder ſhe ſhould ſo long indure it as ſhe has. Siſter, anſwered I, and ſmiled, that which you wonder at in another, you do allow of in your ſelf: believe it you are both alike, and if without offence I may ſpeak it, you may well be ranked in a medium, betwixt creatures irrational and rational. Alcander, ſaid ſhe unto me, you did oblige us both in ſaying ſo: Pray tell us what we ſhould do? Florice, ſaid I, does not Lucindor treat you as Clorian does Cercinea? if you do diſapprove of her tolleration of it, why do you allow it it in your ſelf? And if Cercinea be weary of that tiranny, why does ſhe ſtill tie the knots of her bondage faſter? Ah ſiſter, believe it, both you and Cercinea, and all the women of the world are molded after one pattern, you will, and you will not: you will not, and you will. What do you mean brother, by theſe intricate words? (ſaid Florice and ſmiled) I mean, replied I, that you would fain be miſtreſſes, and yet you are contented to be ſlaves; and though you be weary of ſervitude, yet you take delight in remaining under it: Have you not told me that Lucindor cannot indure Cerintes ſhould ſpeak unto you? and yet the ſame jealouſie was your greateſt torment with Theombres: if ſo, why do you ſubmit your ſelf unto it? why do you not take upon you that authority which he uſurps over you? you think it ſtrange that Cercinea ſhould be ſo ſubject unto the tiranny of Clorian, and I do think it more ſtrange in you: for there is ſome reaſon to be alledged why ſhe ſhould be ſo enſlaved unto him; her education in his houſe, the authority which Palanice ever had over her, her ſmall experience and many other conſiderations, which you cannot alledge for your ſelf; but brother, ſaid Florice, who told you, that I do ſtand in fear of Lucindor? my eyes, replied I, a [...]d your actions: had you but ſeen your ſelf in a glaſs when he entred with Clorian, you would have been aſhamed to ſee how every one took notice of you; and yet you can tell me that Cercinea is weary of that authority which Clorian aſſumes unto himſelf over her; and that it is an eaſie matter to take him off: Ah ſiſter, how hollow is the hopes of it, ſince they are grounded upon the faint reſolution of a woman? were it a thing that is diſadvantageous to you, or againſt all reaſon to make a man deſpair who is all yours, O how eaſie and ready would you be to take up ſuch a reſolution; but if it be a thing that is reaſonable, or to your advantage, O how backward and difficult you find it to reſolve with your ſelves.

Thus I continued twitting Florice with theſe reproches, and ſhe having given me hearing a while, ſhe took me by the arm and interrupted me: Alcander, ſaid ſhe, from whence did you come that you are in ſuch a crabbed humour? and I anſwering that I came from walking in the garden, certainly replied ſhe, you have taſted of ſome bitter fruit. I had ſome thoughts, ſaid I unto her, which indeed were as bitter as any wormwood unto me: I thought ſo, replied ſhe, for your words are full of wormwood. But ſince you think us woman ſo inconſiderate, I beſeech you tell me, you that are ſo wiſe, would you have me break off with Lucindor? think well what councel you will give me; for I am reſolved to follow it, aſſuring my ſelf that you will give me none, of which you will not be called the Authour: believe it ſiſter, anſwered I, you are very kind; becauſe Lucindor is brother unto Cercinea, you would at my charges, regain your liberty. You ſee then, replied Florice, that as women want reſolution, men are all for their own intereſts. Ah Alcander, how eaſie it is to ſpie a mote in a neighbour eye? and how hard to ſee a beam in our own? if I do ſuffer ſome things in Lucindor, you have reaſon to be glad of it: for he being brother unto Cercinea, we may keep [Page] him within his devoires of ſerving you. Siſter, ſaid I unto her, ſhall I ſpeak freely unto you? I am not much againſt Lucindor, for he is not out of all reaſon; but I cannot endure the impertinencies of Clorian. Brother and friend, anſwered ſhe, I ſee that now your tongue and your heart concurre, but ſet your mind at reſt, and be aſſured, that if you will be ruled by me, we will take ſome courſe or other, that ſhall give you contentment. What coueſe, replied I, would you have me take? O heavens, anſwered ſhe and ſmiled, how the caſe is altered? muſt it be I, that muſt give the councel? well Brother, for this time, I will, and if you find it bad, never credit me again. However Cercinea behave her ſelf towards you, continue you ſerving her, but be ſure you hide your affection from all the world but her, and leave the reſt to your own merit, to the impertinency of Clorian; to the humour of Cercinea, and to my aſſiſtance▪ for if you diſcover it, Clorian and Palanice will lead her ſuch a life, as ſhe will wiſh her ſelf out of the world: on the contrary, if you hide it handſomly from them, you ſhall ſee that this diſcretion will ſo much pleaſe her, that Clorian will be doubly intollerable to her, and aſſure your ſelf that if ſhe once begin to melt a little, I will not let any opportunity ſlip, which may advantage you. I muſt confeſs, ſaid I unto her, that I find by your diſcourſe, every one is to be believed in their own myſtery: to love and to diſſemble is the myſtery in which moſt women are verſed; therefore ſiſter, I will follow your adviſe, and not fail in the leaſt circumſtance. Truly Alcander, ſaid ſhe and clapped her hand upon my ſhoulder, I imploy my time very well, in adviſing you ſo affectionately, whilſt you in the mean time requite me with retorting injuries.

This was our diſcourſe, in which I conceived no ſmall hopes, and thinking the advice of Florice was not to be rejected, I reſolved to follow it as near as poſſibly I could: you know Hylas, that paſſion has a quality, to ſwell that ſoul with violences which is poſſeſſed with it, and ſo it was with me; for notwithstanding all my deſigns of conſtraint, and cloſe deportment, my affection did hurry me ere I was aware into ſuch actions, as did but too much make known what I deſired to hide: ſo as Palanice perceived it, making it appear, that art can hardly hide a thing from thoſe that are of the ſame myſtery. And becauſe ſhe knew how impatiently Clorian would take this new affection, and ſhe extremely loving her brother, one day ſhe took Cercinea apart, and to begin; told her, how unadviſed that woman was who would reject a firm and ſettled affection, to enter any new one: how moſt men do court rather out of humour then love, and oftentimes only to try whether women will be eaſily won, that they may afterwards laugh at them, never caring for the reputation of thoſe they ſeem to love, ſo they can but ſatisfie their vanity: how hard a thing it is to find a man of another humour, and what danger there was in truſting any before long trial: Then afterwards ſhe continued. Now ſweetheart, I mention all this unto you, to advertiſe you of a thing, which perhaps you take no notice of: I know, that Alcander ſince his return, has a great aim upon you, and would make you believe that he loves you; he is a young man and has not yet ſold his merchandize, he has been abroad, and ſwelled his mind full of wandring fancies: be ſure Cercinea you do not believe what he ſayes, and though you ſay never ſo little unto him, he will be ſure to take you at your word: we know yet of what humour he is, and I ſhould be very ſorry we ſhould learn it at your charges; what I ſay is meerly for your own good, and as for the affection which my brother bears unto you, I am moſt confident his worth will oblige you to wiſh him well, and did he know thus much, it would trouble him moſt exceſſively: I ſee that for your part you have not contributed any thing unto it, further then an affable complacency, which is ordinary amongſt women of your age, becauſe they think it a high honour to be courted by many: but ſweetheart I beſeech you be not you of that opinion, for there is nothing more diſcomendable in a young woman, then to be followed continually by all ſorts of men: for things that are common are not eſtimable, and perſons of merit will not walk in a crowd: Dear Cercinea, take this advice which I give you, in good part, and make your advantage of it, like a wiſe and a prudent woman, as I know you are.

[Page] Cercinea was very attentive to the diſcourſe of Palanice; and though ſhe knew all her ſapient advice aimed only at her Brother, yet ſhe took it handſomly, without any diſlike, or ſo much as the knitting of a Brow; ſo as after a complement of thanks for her good advice, ſhe beſeeched her to continue it, and her uſual favours towards her; and as for her part, ſhe knew not what I intended, but would with all diſc [...]etion divert me, if ſhe found any ſuch deſigne in me; but above all, ſhe beſeeched her to hide it from Clorian, becauſe ſhe honoured and eſteemed him, and would not upon any terms give him any cauſe of diſ-ſatisfaction,

This was the firſt diſcourſe they had together upon that ſubject, and ſee I beſeech you, how prudently ſhe needed to carry her ſelf in ſuch accidents. 'Tis true this counſel of Palanices cauſed her to carry her ſelf more coldly towards me then before: but withal, ſhe treated with me as with her ſervant: I mean, ſhe was ſo perſwaded that I loved her, as let all the world ſay the contrary, ſhe did not doubt it: ſo as the counſel which Palanice gave her with intention to do me harm, did more advantage my deſigne, then all my courtſhip would have done in a long time: My Siſter who ſaw this alteration, and that Cercinea durſt hardly name me without a bluſh; that when I came into the room where ſhe was, ſhe preſently caſt down her eyes, or turned them another way; that when I came to her, ſhe then changed place, and went into other company: that if I preſented her with any flowers o [...] fruits as I uſed to do, ſhe refuſed them: and briefly, conſidering how much diſpleaſed ſhe ſeemed to be with me one day when we were both together at home, ſhe could not chuſe but ſpeak unto me about it, and repreſented this ſcorn to be ſo inſupportable to a man of courage that if words had been able to have altered my opinion, doubtleſs thoſe of Florice had been ſufficient to have diverted me from that affection which I bore unto Cercinea. But the diſeaſe had taken too deep a root, or to expreſs it a lit [...]le better, the Arrow was ſtruck too far into my heart, to be pulled out by any thing but death: And ſhe ſaw it very well by the anſwer which I gave her; for when ſhe had repreſented unto me the wrong which that woman did me, and how every one admired to ſee me ſo obſtinate, or rather inſenſible; that upon all other occaſions I ſhewed courage and judgement enough, but in this I ſeemed as if I had forgotten what I was; and briefly, after ſhe had ſet before my eyes both who I was, and who ſhe was, and that our alliance was all honourable and advantagious to her, as that of Clorians, or any others that could be propounded unto her. Deareſt Siſter (ſaid I unto her, and ſmiled) you make of thoſe Chirurgions who when they have looked upon a wound, do think they have done enough; thinking that when they have declared what Nerves, and whar Atteries are offended, to ſhew how mortal and dangerous the diſeaſe is, and the great pain which the Patient endures, but never apply any remedies to cure them: Alas Siſter, I do know too well all that you have told me; I ſee Circinea does not love me, I know very well my ſervices are not pleaſing unto her, and I am not ignorant that Clorian is the happy man in her eye: But Siſter, what am I the better for knowing all theſe things, ſince it is ſtill but a bare knowledge, which ſets before my eyes the grandeur of my wounds? If you have any pity upon my miſery, make me know what remedies are neceſſary to cure it; for otherwiſe I aſſure you Siſter, your pity in lieu of doing me good, will cauſe the end of my days, for to think that theſe conſideration can divert me from the love of that Fair one, is only to deceive your ſelf; ſince I am ſo wholly hers, that ſhe may uſe what cruelties ſhe pleaſe againſt me, and my heart not murmure nor complain.

I ob [...]erved that when Florice heard theſe expreſſions, ſhe changed colour, and was even raviſhed with wonder: After ſhe had looked upon me a long while without a word at laſt ſhe ſaid thus, I muſt needs confeſs Brother, that never any loved like unto you, if at leaſt it be love to give ones ſelf entirely away; but I muſt tell you, that your affection deſerves to meet with a reciprocal return, unleſs heaven have decreed you for the moſt miſerable man that ever loved. Truly Siſter, anſwered I, there is not a word which I ſpoke, but I will ſigne it with my blood: But to what purpoſe is all this? Will you let me try my laſt remedy? ſaid ſhe unto me. Alas Siſter, replyed I, to what purpoſe ſhould it be delayed, unleſs to make me loſe my life? Then Brother (ſaid ſhe) aſſure your ſelf that I will employ the [Page] endeavours of Lucindor; and if he obtain no contentment unto you from his Siſter, let him never look for any one good word from me again: In the mean time uſe your utmoſt endeavours, for ſeveral Batteries will ſooner cauſe the Fort to yeild.

Upon this reſolution we parted, ſhe ſeeking for an opportunity of ſpeech with Lucindor, and I beating my brains how to win upon the good will of this cruel Fair one. I have already told you that I had a Garden belonging to my houſe, where I often uſed to entertain my Fancies. At this time, as it was my cuſtome, I went thither, ſo taken up with my own thoughts, that I took no notice of Beliſard, who was walking by himſelf in a cloſe Walk. This Beliſard is the young man who is now aſleep in the other bed, & who was appointed to have a care of us, when our Father ſent us to the Roman Schools: The long time he hath been with us, and our conſtant familiarity has begot in him ſuch an affection unto me, that I dare ſay he loved me with all his heart: The knowledge which I had of this, beſides many other good qualities, which might well make him amiable, was the reaſon why I had a very dear eſteem of him, and concealed nothing from him: This time only I did not tell him of that affection which I had unto Cercinea, not knowing any reaſon for it, unleſs becauſe occaſions did not handſomly preſent themſelves: Now this young man was (as I told you) before me in the Garden, whilſt I took no notice of him; and by fortune I went into a Walk which was parted from his, only by a Hedge of Lawrels, which was reaſonable thick: He who ſpied me coming with my hat over my eyes, and looking down upon the ground, walking a great pace, he knew that I had ſome deep thought in my mind which perplexed me, and becauſe I did not vſe to hide any thing from him, he knew not what to think of it; and therefore getting as cloſe to the hedge as he could, to hear what words he thought he heard me utter, I began to raiſe my voice, thinking there was none to hear me; Then did he eaſily hear that love was the cauſe of my perplexity. And as I was uttering theſe words, Since all I can do will not avail to conquer the courage of this cruel Fair one, who is he that can help me? and from whom can I hope for any relief? I heard him anſwer in a loud voice, Beliſard. Judge Hylas, whether or no I was ſurprized at this voice. I ſtopt, and looked about me, and ſeeing no body, I muſt confeſs I began to think it was ſome Spirit which made the anſwer. But the young man went a little about, and came to me, ſaying ſeveral times, Beliſard, Beliſard, from Beliſard you may expect all faithful ſervice: Oh Sir (ſaid he when he was a little nearer) is it you that is thus perplexed and does conceal your ſelf from me? Have you forgot my affection and fidelity? Oh friend, anſwered I, you need not be offended with me for concealing that from you, which if I could, I would conceal from my ſelf, thinking, that as fire which is blown will belch out biggeſt flames, and when it wants ayr, will ſmother it ſelf away; ſo I by ſilence ſhould become free as I was wont to be. Oh Sir, anſwered he I perceive this is the firſt time that you have been tainted with this diſeaſe, ſince you think that it will ſmother of its ſelf: You muſt know Sir, that when a heart is once ſtricken, it can never be cured again, but either by ſuch extream ſcorn as will blaſt all hopes, or by the enjoyment of the party who is the cauſe: and this is the reaſon, There is nothing that can naturally live without ſome nouriſhment: now favours are the food of Love; when a Lover is deprived of theſe favours, then Love (like a candle that will extinguiſh for want of wax) will alſo die for want of nutriment. Then again, as ſuperabundance of wax will extinguiſh that flame which would be nouriſhed by a mediocrity, ſo the fruition of the party loved, will ſtifle Love, by the ſuperabundance of favours which on like occaſions are received, Oh Beliſard, ſaid I unto him, if you know no better remedy againſt my diſeaſe. then you know how to diſcourſe of it, I am afraid I ſhould be long ſick before you cured me; for I have found by experience, that one of thoſe things which you ſay will extinguiſh Love, will make it greater, and more full of pain: Nor can I imagine how the fruition of a good can make one hate it: ſo as reaſon on one ſide, and experience on the other, makes me conclude you no great Doctor in the diſeaſe of Love. There is nothing Sir, ſaid he unto me, which ſo much hinders the cure of a diſeaſe, then for the patient to have an ill opinion of his Doctor: Fancy [Page] and Imagination will oftentimes work wonders, and produce effects incredible; and therefore you ought not to give ſo bad a judgement of my capacity, until you have conſidered my reaſons: I ſay, that either extream ſcorn, or ſuperabundance of favours, may either of them extinguiſh Love: for is not Love a deſire? and one does never deſire that which they poſſeſs: if then by poſſeſſion there be no deſire, it follows by conſequence then, that by poſſeſſion there is no Love. In Love (ſaid I) there is an inexhauſtible Abyſs of ſweets, of delights, and it is impoſſible ever to have them all, but there will ſtill be ſome greater and greater to deſire then we enjoy: Beſides, the appetite is not extinguiſhed nor ſatisfied, but on the contrary, the new thought of the happineſs enjoyed, does become bellows un [...]o deſire, and makes it more violent; and ſo, according to your own argument, Love being a deſire, and that deſire being made more ardent and violent by the knowledge of the happineſs enjoyed, it conſequently follows, that it which you ſa [...] does extinguiſh Love, does on the contrary make it more vigorous and violent. Such a Love as you mention Sir, replyed he, muſt be a moſt exceſſive Glutron, if nothing can ſatisfie it. But Sir, what do you ſay to ſcorn and diſdain? Can Love hold out againſt a generous ſpirit? Cold will allay heat, and all contraries will deſtroy their contraries; nor can you deny but hatred being the contrary of love, will make Love die. All things in the Univerſe (replyed I) are preſerved by their contraries; and if there were no contrarieties, all would be but one thing, and ſo the world would end, at the leaſt be no world. 'Tis true, replyed he, but then theſe contrarieties are ſo equal in power, that the one cannot ſurmount the other: But what love is it which will not be extinguiſhed by extream ſcorn? According to your argument, replyed I, Love may reſiſt ſcorn, when it is equally in the extream. But Beliſard▪ why ſpend we time in this unſeaſonable diſpute? What will it avail me, whether what you ſay be true or no? Since I do find by ſad experience, that neither disfavours nor ſcorn have wrought in me that effect which you ſpeak of. Perhaps Sir, anſwered he, there may be a failure in your experience: I beſeech you tell me what arguments you have to think your ſelf ſcorned? Oh Beliſard, cryed I ſo many, and ſo great, as makes them moſt apparent: And that you may the better judge, for I will not conceal any thing from you, Know that I am moſt deſperately in love with Cercinea. Who? She (ſaid he) who Clorian ſo long courted? The ſame, replyed I, and I aſſure you, that ever ſince this affection firſt began, and ſince I did diſcover it unto her, her cruelties are daylie encreaſed Sir, ſaid he then unto me, Will you not be offended if I be a little inquiſ [...]ve? Pray tell me whether ſhe did treat you after the ſame manner, before you made your love known unto her? No, anſwered I, far otherwiſe; for then her language was ſweet, and her favours fluent. Then (ſaid he) when you did acquaint her with your love, did ſhe take it in ſcorn, or in anger? Neither the one nor the other, anſwered I; but a while after ſhe began to ſcorn me. And what? continued he, Did ſhe make her ill will known unto you? Alas, anſwered I, ſhe flies me like a contagious diſeaſe: when I come into the room where ſhe is, ſhe bluſhes, and turns another way: And ſince ſhe took this humour, would never ſo much as caſt an eye upon me. But my dear Beliſard, to what purpoſe is the relation of all theſe particulars? Know this for all, that all her actions are ſo many arguments that my ſervice is not pleaſing unto her. Beliſard upon this ſmiled: Maſter (ſaid he) be of good courage, and take it upon my word, this woman loves you. How, anſwered I, Cercinea love me! Believe it, ſhe gives me but ſmall reaſon to think ſo. Sir, ſaid he, moſt aſſuredly Cercinea does love you; all her actions of which you complain, are ſo many aſſured arguments of it. Theſe ſlights, theſe bluſhes, theſe ſhifting of places to avoid the ſight of you, briefly, all that you have related unto me, are nothing but words of love, in which ſhe ſilently ſpeaks unto you: She might as well ſay, I love you Alcander: And to ſhew you Sir all this is true, what teſtimony Sir will you pleaſe to have me bring you of it? Alas my dear Beliſard (ſaid I unto him) it is the exceſs of thy love whi [...]h makes thee ſpeak thus, to give me ſome conſolation. No, no Sir (ſaid he) I do not flatter you; I am moſt confident I ſhall bring you ſome teſtimony of her love to you the firſt time I ſhall ſpeak with her; refer the whole care unto me, be [Page] merry, only continue a diſcreet behaviour towards her, and be not offended at the harſhneſs of her actions; for believe me, they are only conſtraints, and abſolutely to your advantage.

I ſhould tyre you Hylas, if I ſhould repeat all the diſcourſe we had upon this ſubject, for I ſhould never end; ſo pleaſing were the flattering hopes of his promiſes unto me: In concluſion, before we parted, he reſolved to find out ſome means of ſpeech with her, which I told him might eaſily be done if he feigned to viſit her from Florice, as is uſual in great Cities betwixt perſons of quality: But I thought it neceſſary that Florice ſhould give him the Commiſſion. To feigne that I come from her, Sir (ſaid he) I think it good; but to take my commiſſion really from her, I do not like; or that ſhe ſhould know any thing of your deſigne: for Sir, learn this ſecret from me, That there is nothing which a woman fears ſo much as to truſt her ſelf in ſuch matter unto another woman, eſpecially if ſhe be fair and young, there is nothing that will ſooner cauſe a divorce between them; and then what danger are they in who truſted them with any thing of importance? No no, ſuch as are well adviſed, will never run ſuch hazards: Should you acquaint Florice, and ſhe thinking to do you a good office, ſpeak unto her, you ſhould find nothing from her but coldneſs, and ſhy looks. Alas (ſaid I unto him) I have concealed nothing from her, and ſhe has ſpoken unto Cercinea of it ſeveral times. Well Sir, ſaid he, I will try if I can remedy it; but I beſeech you deſire Florice to ſpeak unto her no more, and you ſhall find my advice to be good very ſhortly.

Night began to rob us of the day, and ſupper time drew near, when I went out of the Garden much better ſatisfied with the hopes which Beliſard had infuſed into me, then I was when I entred; which Florice perceiving, Whats the matter Brother (ſaid ſhe unto me) that your mind is better contented then it was when you went from hence? Siſter (ſaid I, and ſpoke very low) it ſeems my face is a Teltale, and will ſave me a labour; but I beſeech you take no notice of it, nor ſpeak unto Cercinea any more concerning my affection, nor any thing elſe concerning me, till I advertiſe you; ſhe made a ſigne with her head, which intimated as much as ſhe would obſerve my deſire, and ſo we ſate down to Supper; when we had half ſupped, Amilcar came and told us of a great meeting at the houſe of Dorinde, becauſe the next morning ſhe was to be married unto Bellimaries, a great Souldier, whom King Gondebaut made Governour of the City of Lions; and that Palanice and her Brothers would go thither as ſoon as they had ſupped: That Dorindes Father whom he met in the ſtreet returning from our houſe, deſired him to invite Florice and me thither: That Cercinea was not there, though her two brothers were, becauſe ſhe found her ſelf not well diſpoſed.

This News made us haſte with ſupper as ſoon as we could, that ſince we were invited, we might go thither: And when I was ready to go Beliſard came to me, and deſired me not to be at that Aſſembly, ſince Cercinea would not be there: for (ſaid he) I intend to go unto her; and if ſhe be to be ſpoke withal, I will break the matter unto her; and believe it Sir, I am the moſt miſtaken man in the world, if I bring not back welcome News unto you, before you go to bed: To which I anſwered, that I would do as he deſired, and ſo I did.

Beliſard was as good as his word, and went to Cercineas houſe, where by fortune he found none with her but Andronira, all the reſt being gone to this houſe of jollity: She was ſet upon her Beds ſide half undreſt, with a Lute in her arms wherewith ſhe was entertaining herſelf; for amongſt the reſt of Cercineas excellent qualities, ſhe plays upon that Inſtrument in the perfection; ſhe was ſo attentive to her own harmony, that when Beliſard came into the room, it was long before ſhe perceived him; and had not Andronira ſpied him, and advertiſed her Miſtris, he had longer pleaſed his ear with the enchantment of her muſique; But ſhe ſtarring up, would have gone into her Cloſet, becauſe ſhe would not be ſeen ſo undreſt, had not he held her back by her garment; afterwards caſting himſelf upon his knees before; he did ſo beg and importune her to ſtay, that ſhe returned to her place, yet commanding Andronira to take away the candle, that ſhe might not be ſo well ſeen in that dreſs.

Madam (ſaid Beliſard unto her) if ſhe do take away the candle, it is no matter, [Page] for no Sun can illuſtrate a night better then your beauty: Beliſaid, ſaid ſhe unto him, theſe flatteries might well be ſpared to your friends, eſpecially in their preſence, let therefore the candle be removed that you may not ſee me bluſh at them, But tell me, I beſeech you, what brought you hither? and why are not you at Dorindes houſe, where ſo many beauties will be aſſembled? To anſwer Madam unto your queſtion, ſaid he, you muſt know that either a good or a bad ſpirit directed me hither; and the reaſon why I am not at Dorindes houſe is double: For, continued he and ſpoke aloud, Florice hearing you were not well, ſhe commanded me to come and know how you did, and to tender her moſt humble ſervice unto you I am much obliged, ſaid ſhe unto Florice for the favour, and her care of me: I beſeech you tell her, that this ſickneſs is not like to diſable me from paying back unto her, the due debt of my moſt humble ſervice. O Cercinea, ſaid he and ſpoke low, you are miſtaken, if you think Florice knows any thing of my coming hither: why then, ſaid ſhe, did you tell me a lie? becauſe, replied he, too many people would know our buſineſs, if we ſhould alwayes ſpeak truth. Do you think I would have Andronica know the cauſe of my coming hither? No, no, I dare not truſt her.

Cercinea d [...]d not wonder at the odneſs of Beliſaids expreſſions, becauſe it was uſual with him, both towards her, and her companions: yet ſhe had a ſuſpition that I had a ſhare in the buſineſs of Beliſaid, becauſe ſhe knew that I had a great confidence in him; and therefore ſhe would not ask him any more what buſineſs brought him thither, but he beginning to ſpeak: I did never in my life, ſaid he, ſee a perſon ſo little inquiſitive as you are, ſince you know that it was not upon Florices errand that I came, why do you not ask me, upon whoſe the [...]? Cercinea then ſmiled and ſaid unto him: I did never in my life ſee a man ſo prodigal of his ſecrets as Beliſaid, who will not only tell them unto thoſe that ask him, but will force thoſe who have no curioſity, to know them. You may ſee by that, replied he, how the blame which is laid upon woman, is due alſo unto men. What blame do you ſpeak of; ſaid Cercinea and ſmiled; that they cannot keep their tongues in their heads, anſwered Beliſaid. 'Tis true indeed, replied Cercinea then, that men do aſperſe us with that fault, which methinks, they are more guilty of themſelves, at the leaſt, many that I know; if it be a vice natural in women, then nature failed in me: for I ſwear Beliſaid, that when one deſires me to conceal a thing, I do ſo abſolutely forget it, that I remember it no more, then if they had never told me of it.

Are you of that humour, replied Beliſaid, in every thing? In every thing, replied ſhe, that is of any importance. I will try, ſaid Beliſaid, whether you ſpeak truth; for I will truſt you with a ſecret which I would not have known for half my life. Why then, ſaid Cercinea, will you tell it unto me? For two reaſons, ſaid he, the one, to know whether a woman can be ſilent; and the other to ſhew you how much Beliſaid is your ſervant, ſince he will truſt you with ſuch a ſecret, by which you may ruine him when you will. Truly, anſwered ſhe, I would know what you intend to tell me, for the two conſiderations which you mention; but be ſure you mention it not unto any other, left if they ſhould blabb, I ſhould be accuſed of their fault: No, no, anſwered Beliſaid, I am confident, that when I have told it unto you, it will be the leaſt of your fears I ſhould tell any other. If ſo, replied Cercinea and ſmiled, I ſhall be glad to hear it, as well to ſhew you what I am, as to know what you are. Be pleaſed then, ſaid Beliſaid) to hear what it is: you know very well, that there is not any upon the face of the earth, whom I love, and honour ſo much as Alcander; you know that I have been long converlant with him, and I think you know, that he is pleaſed to ſet ſome value upon me, and has truſted himſelf unto my fidelity. I will at this time acquaint you with a ſecret which he hath truſted unto me, and which he had rather die then it ſhould be divulged: Be pleaſed to know, fair Circinea; that as he and I were diſcourſing together upon ſeveral things of importance, he ſwore by his life, and proteſted a hundred times by all that was moſt ſacred and dear unto him, that he did love the f [...]ir Cercinea ſo, and was ſo wholy and devotedly her ſervant, that never was any affection equal unto his: and that if this affection ſhould by his curſed [Page] fate be diſpleaſing unto you; then, he ſhould have recourſe unto no other remedy but death.

And becauſe Beliſaid made here a ſtop, Cercinea ſmiled, and thus replied: Is this all the ſecret, Beliſaid, which you have to tell me? and do you think this to be a matter of ſuch huge importance? Do you think it is not? ſaid Beliſaid, ſince it concerns the contentment and the life of ſuch a Cavalier? for know Cercinea, that ſince firſt he ſaw you, he never thought of himſelf, nor ever talks unto me of any thing but you; the whole ſtudy of his thoughts is to find out wayes how to ſerve you: all his diſcourſe is to extol and eſteem you, and all his deſires have no other ambition but the honour of your favour; But Madam, for Godſake, I beſeech you, keep all this ſecret.

I promiſe you I will, anſwered ſhe, and ſecret in ſuch a manner, that Cercinea her ſelf ſhall neither know nor believe a word of it. O Madam, ſaid he then, that's not it which I deſire, but on the contrary, I would have Cercinea both know and believe it, as a moſt infallible truth: but my meaning is, that you ſhould not impart it either unto Palanice or Clorian: No, no, anſwered ſhe, neither Palanice or Clorian, nor Cercinea ſhall ever know it. Do you not remember I told you at firſt, that when any told me a thing with a charge of ſilence, I ſhould quite forget it? truſt me Beliſaid, I will do the ſame by this ſecret which you have imparted unto me, for I will not ſo much as think of it any more. Perverſe woman, replied Beliſaid, do you think I would tell you any thing that you might forget it? Do you thus ſcorn what I ſay, and what concerns ſo deeply a Cavalier of ſuch merit, and a Lady that is the faireſt in the world? what you have told me, replied Cercinea, has none of thoſe qualifications, and therefore I ſee you do but only mock me: for the Lady of whom you ſpeak is good, but not fair, and the Cavalier whom you ſay it ſo much concerns, does not think ſo; and this ſecret which muſt be ſo cloſly kept is known already to any that will. I am very glad, anſwered Beliſaid, that, ſince againſt your conſcience you will deny what I ſay, you confeſs, that every one knows it: As for that beauty which you deny to be in Cercinea, all that have eyes and look upon you will give you the lie; as for the affection of Alcander which you put in doubt, all his actions do give you a ſufficient teſtimony of it. And laſtly, for the ſecret, which you ſay is none: time which is the diſcoverer of truth, will let you know, that none ever heard it but Cercinea, Alcander, and Beliſaid: Ah lier, replied ſhe preſently, has not Florice ſpoke of it ſeveral times unto me? Florice, anſwered he, might perhaps ſpeak what ſhe thought, but not that Alcander imparted any thing unto her: then Clorian and Palanice, ſaid ſhe, they are acquainted with it; how, ſaid Beliſaid, they acquainted with it? moſt certainly, anſwered ſhe, for both of them have told me of it, and with many a bitter reproach: believe it Beliſaid, ſince they have known it, I have not been without exerciſe. Then Beliſaid ſmiling, fair Cercinea, ſaid he, would you have me confeſs the truth? All that I have told you concerning Alcander is as true as that there is a heaven, and a God: let me be caſheered out of the number of the living, if he do not love you, nay rather adore you: but the reaſon of my coming to you, and of all the diſcourſe which I have had with you, was only to know, what now you have told me concerning Palanice and Clorian: for Alcander and I could not imagine why you ſhould treat him ſo cruelly, conſidering his extream affection unto you, and the diſcretion wherewith he hath loved you; and thinking it not likely, that conſidering his merit and his deſire to ſerve you, he ſhould be courſly uſed: but now I plainly ſee, that all this proceeds from no ill will in you, but only from the importunity of Clorian and his ſiſter, who are the only cauſes of it; will you be pleaſed to let us make this conſtruction of it? and for the ſatisfaction, or rather for ſaving the life of my dear maſter, ſhall I let him underſtand it ſo? and becauſe ſhe ſpoke not; but in lieu of anſwer roſe up, and walked ſoftly up and down the chamber, he continued in this manner: I have many a time admired at the good fortune of ſome perſons, and at the bad fortune of others; I have ſeen ſome have great eſtates, who were unworthy of them, and others of great worth and merit to want. The ſame conſideration may be had upon this occaſion; for with what juſtice, [Page] can the honour of your favour be denied Alcander? and what ſhadow of reaſon can you have to let Clorian have ſuch a tirannical power over your will? If the merits of both be conſidered, they are out of their wits that will not prefer Alcander before him. This very conſideration is enough to win you from him: Clorian is imperious and domineers over you, Alcander does humbly reverence and adore you, as if you were a goddeſs, and yet you make him inferiour to Clorian. This is a thing ſo ſtrange as is hardly credible, yet it is true: you are all ſubmiſſion unto him that tramples you under his feet, and you are all cruelty and ſcorn towards him that humbly adores you. O no, replied Cercinea, you are miſtaken Beliſaid; I do not ſcorn him, but I do eſteem Alcander as I ought, and as his merit does oblige all thoſe that know him: a large gratification indeed, ſaid Beliſaid, to eſteem him as all that know him do; but are not you obliged unto him more, ſince he would not live but only to do you ſervice? What more (anſwered ſhe and ſmiled) would you have me do? why ſhould I tell you, ſaid he, ſince you will do nothing? Upon this they went to the table, and he taking up a pen without any deſigne, why ſhould I tell you what you ſhould do more, ſaid he, ſince I fear you will not do it? perhaps, replied ſhe and ſmiled, you have gueſſed right; and perhaps alſo you are miſtaken: Firſt, ſaid he, anſwer me to one queſtion I will ask: do you love Alcander, or do you hate him? A very fine queſtion indeed, anſwered ſhe and ſmiled, and why ſhould I hate one of ſo much merit, and who never gave me any occaſion for it? you ſay very true, anſwered he, why then do you treat him with ſo much rigour? I do not know, ſaid ſhe, what you call rigour. When you ſee him, replied Beliſaid, you turn another away: if he come towards you, you flie him; if he ſpeak unto you, you will not anſwer him; or if you be forced unto it, it is but half words: breifly, all your other actions are ſcorn and diſdain of him. Beliſaid, ſaid ſhe (and laid her hand upon his ſhoulder) ſhall I ſpeak freely to you? I never thought that thou or thy maſter had ſo little wit as I ſee you both have: Go, go, Beliſaid and learn this leſſon, that women are oft conſtrained to ſeem as if they did not ſee what they do ſee; and on the contrary, to ſee that which they do not ſee. O Cercinea ſaid he, I give you moſt hearty thanks for reforming my ignorance. This leſſon will be the greateſt contentment in the world, unto one who is now the moſt afflicted, but now I ſhall preſently make him the moſt contented and happy perſon alive: whilſt Cercinea was walking left Andronira ſhould ſuſpect any thing from their long diſcourſe, Beliſaid took the pen, and began to write, for he had an excellent wit, and as good a faculty in writing as any in the Court: As he writ, Cercinea at every turn of her walk looked upon him, and ſaid aloud, be ſure you write nothing but what is good, and do not ſpoil my paper: if you pleaſe to ſee what I have writ, ſaid he, you ſhall ſee how I have obeyed you, and if you would approve of it, I would thank you; if it be a thing I ought to do, anſwered ſhe, I will: O Cercinea, replied he, I ſhould think this a happy night if you would: doubtleſs I will anſwered ſhe, if I can, but what have you writ? You ſhall ſee it, anſwered he, and never look upon me as your ſervant, if I have inſerted any thing, which in all reaſon you may not avow, then taking the paper, ſhe read theſe words.

CERCINEAS Note unto ALCANDER,

THe aſsurance which your actions have given me of your amity, has obliged me in gratitude, to love you; and to ſet ſuch a value upon your merit as to eſteem you as a perſon whom I will honour as long as I live.

When ſhe had read it; now Madam, ſaid Beliſaid, make good your word, and perform the promiſe [...]hich you made. What promiſe, ſaid ſhe, did I make unto you? you aſſured me, anſwered he, that if it were a thing which you ought to do, you would approve of what I had writ: have I writ any thing which is not true, [Page] and which you ought not to avow? I do not know, replied ſhe, to whom this is directed, nor from whom it muſt go. You may eaſily imagine Madam, replied he, that I will carry this teſtimony unto the moſt faithful ſervant you ever had: what then ſaid ſhe, would you have me do? I would have you, replied he, to approve of what I have writ: Well, anſwered ſhe, I do approve of it; Nay that's not enough, anſwered he, you muſt ſubſcribe your name unto it: what then, ſaid ſhe, why then, anſwered he, you have performed your promiſe, and I am ſatisfied; but that, anſwered ſhe, is no ſatisfactory anſwer to my queſtion: I would know what muſt be down with the Paper when I have ſubſcribed it? Away, away, ſaid he, what needs all this curioſity? Then taking the pen, and holding the paper unto me, come, come, ſaid he, make good your promiſe, and afterwards we will talk further: ſo even by force he made her write Cercinea; and becauſe he preſently took away the paper as ſoon as ſhe had done: No, no, ſaid ſhe, I do intend to keep it, for I did not promiſe to let you have it, but only to approve of it: 'Tis true anſwered he, but I made no promiſe to give it unto you, but to keep it; ſo as I will keep mine as well as you have yours. Come, come, replied ſhe, I will have it: Well Madam, ſaiſt he, if you will, you ſhall; but it ſhall be from the hands of Alcander.

After ſuch diſcourſe as this, becauſe it grew very late, he bad her goodnight, and ſhe ſeeing him ready to be gone and carry it away, ſhe went unto him. I perceive, ſaid ſhe and ſmiled, one muſt give that which one cannot ſell, therefore I pray tell Alcander how you have deceived me; No, no, ſaid he, I will make him a more happy man then ever he hoped to be: So not ſtaying for any anſwer, he came as faſt as he could to me, and found me compoſing ſome lines into meeter, upon this ſubject, That though ſhe ſcorn'd me, yet would I love her. Juſt as I had finiſhed them, Beliſaid entred, and becauſe I commonly communicated them unto him; before ere I asked whether he had ſeen Cercinea, I made him read them, that he having a good wit, and was able to judge of ſuch things, might give his opinion of them: But at this time he laid them down upon the table; verſes, ſaid he, are now no more in ſeaſon, then Schollars are in time of war: What do you mean Belleſaid, ſaid I unto him? I mean anſwered he (and ſets his arms a kimbow) that there is but one Beliſaid in a world, that can cure a deſperate diſeaſe. Tell you me of Rigours, Cruelties, and Scorns? why? Nothing but love and favours can I find from her. Then throwing the pen out of my hand I embraced him, ſaying, Surely Beliſaid you only mock me, is it poſſible that Cercinea ſhould give you any teſtimonies of her good will to me? I am ſure, ſaid he, that you were prepoſſeſſed with the opinion wherein you were, that you will hardly believe me: but firſt hear what I will ſay unto you, then ask what aſſurance, which in any reaſon you can, and I will give it unto you. I will tell you, that Cercinea does not only accept of your ſervice, but more, ſhe loves you, and I am able to make good what I ſay. Ah Beliſaid, ſaid I unto him, (being tranſported with too much content) may I believe this good news? I knew well enough, replied he, that you would be incredulous, and therefore I offered you at firſt, ſuch aſſurance, as might make you believe what I ſay: bethink your ſelf what will moſt inſpire you with belief; then ſwear, ſaid I unto him, by the love thou beareſt me, that indeed, ſaid he, were well; but go on. Swear then, ſaid I, by the love I bear unto Cercinea. Oaths, ſaid he, are but words, and words are but wind; but I would give you ſome aſſurance which you may ſee and touch: I conjure thee, (ſaid I unto him being all impatiency) to tell me what it is. I pray you content your ſelf, replied he, and believe me another time, if I ſhew you in writing, that all I have ſaid is true. O I fear, ſaid I, that your promiſes are to bigg to be effected: I will make it evidently appear unto you, replied he, that the effects are greater then all my promiſes; for you ſhall ſee it in writing, nay, in writing from her to you: Then giving me the paper; ſee there, ſaid he, how that contract of love, to which I was Secretary, is approved of and ſigned by her own fair hand: there you may ſee Cercinea ſent unto you in writing, as an earneſt that afterwards ſhe will make you poſſeſſour of her ſelf in ſubſtance.

Oh Hylas, how can I expreſs my joys and my raviſhments? I kiſſed the name [Page] of Cercinea a thouſand times, and laying it to my heart, me-thought I received unimaginable comfort; and becauſe I was aſtoniſhed, and admired how it was poſſible he ſhould obtain this declaration from her, he related the whole ſtory of his negotiation, not omitting one ſillable; and I heard with ſo much attention and delight, as I could have wiſhed he never would have ended: But in concluſion, Maſter (ſaid he unto me) this woman has not only all imaginable excellencies of body, but ſhe is one of the rareſt wits in the world; her years, though few, are yet full of prudence and wiſdom; and believe me, you are obliged to love her, not only for her high Beauty, but more for the good will ſhe bears unto you: for beſides her Letter unto you, her diſcourſe does better teſtifie, that all thoſe actions which have ſo much tormented you, were only conſtraints, and becauſe ſhe durſt do no otherwiſe: But Sir, what may you now expect from her, ſince I have this firſt time obtained more then ever you could hope for?

Our diſcourſe together had not ſo ſoon ended, had not Florice and Amilcar ſo ſoon returned from the Nuptial houſe, where neither of them had been very merry, and returned without much contentment; for Lucindor and Cerintes were there, who never left Florice, and Seleines kept Palanice company, ſo as Amilcar could not talk unto her without witneſſes. As ſoon as I ſaw them, Beliſard and I having done diſcourſe, I took them both by their hands, and drawing them aſide; now (ſaid I unto them) I will participate of your contentments, that this merry night paſs not away without ſome delight unto me. Both of them ſmiled at this. For my part, ſaid Florice, I have ſeen Lucindor and Cerintes. And I (ſaid Amilcar) to my happineſs have ſeen Palanice, and to my ſorrow, Seleines with her. Then (replyed Florice) I cannot tell you any news, but that I have been the moſt perſecuted woman in the world with their importunities, or rather jealouſies; for I could never ſpeak to the one, but the eye of the other was upon me, and I could not do any manner of thing which did not diſoblige them both: he to whom I talked, was ſorry I did not look upon her; and he upon whom I looked, was angry it was not him I talked unto: and I was afraid left they ſhould have faln foul upon one another. For my part Siſter (ſaid I unto her) if you love either of them, I beſeech you let it be Lucindor, for he is Circineas Brother; and the more to oblige him, let him know that I am his Solicitor unto you. Nay then Siſter, (ſaid Amilcar, and ſmiled) I conjure you to love Cerintes, becauſe he is Palanices Brother and let him underſtand that I did entreat for him. Brothers (ſaid Florice, and interrupted) firſt for your ſake Alcander, I will not love the Brother of Palanice, and then for your ſake Amilcar, I care not for the Brother of Cercinea; and for my owne ſake, I will not trouble my ſelf with either Lucindor or Cerintes.

We could not forbear laughing at this Declaration: Siſter ſaid I unto her, either love them, or love them not, that's all I care, ſo you will but ſeem to do as I deſired: But Amilcar (ſaid I unto him) what adventures have befallen you? Very well at firſt, anſwered he, but at laſt not ſo: When we were altogether at the Aſſembly, Seleines was not there; ſo as finding the place free, and becauſe I would not let ſuch an opportunity ſlip, I told her, that I ſhould have curſed my Brother, if I had gone with him, as he deſired: Perhaps (anſwered ſhe) you would have found more contentment there then here: Indeed (replyed I) there's none can tell better then Palanice, ſince it is in her power to make me the moſt contented, or the ſaddeſt man in the world, and this ſhe may do with one word: If ſo (ſaid ſhe) you have confined your good or bad fortune unto a very narrow room. No, no, anſwered I, for I ſet ſuch a value upon you, that the very leaſt things which come from you, ſeem great unto me. Take heed Amilcar (ſaid ſhe) that what you think ſo, do not prove ſo really. Oh faireſt Palanice, replyed I, I would to God you would be pleaſed to make me judge of it by experience. What would you have me do (replyed ſhe) to make you ſo knowing? I would have you ſpeak but one word only (ſaid I) that is, I love Amilcar. That word (replyed ſhe) ſounds ſo ill in the mouth of a woman, that I cannot ſpeak it. Say then replyed I, The love of Amilcar is pleaſing unto me. How? replyed ſhe, and ſmiled, would you have me ſay it when I do not think ſo, nor believe it? Oh heaven! cryed I, [Page] do you not believe it? What ſhould I do to create a Belief in you? If that Belief (anſwered ſhe) would do you any good, you muſt find our ways to infuſe it; but I will adviſe you no further. When I have brought it to that paſs, that you cannot but believe I love you (ſaid I) will it be pleaſing unto you then? The judgement upon things future (ſaid ſhe) is very uncertain, and one can hardly be ſure of any thing. Unto what then (replyed I) ſhall I have recourſe? Upon this Sileines came in, who hindred us from any further talk, but that ſhe ſaid unto me in a low voice, unto Tryal; And after this, we could not all that night ſpeak a word, without that troubleſome witneſs.

Thus Hylas we diſcourſed together, and I thus underſtood their adventures, and they not mine; Not but that I ſhould willingly have imparted it unto them, had I not feared the diſpleaſure of Cercinea, who I ſaw was extreamly conſtrained by that authority which Palanice had uſurped over her; and becauſe it was very late, we retired to our reſt.

But I held Biliſard ſo long in talk in my chamber, by making him repeat what he had told me before, that day did appear before I would permit him to retire. The Sun then ſhining upon us, we reſolved to gain Cercineas chambermaid, it being almoſt impoſſible to find any defence from her eyes: And ſince Beliſard had been already ſo proſperous in his firſt deſign, I referred the managing of all matters wholly unto him.

The diſcourſe Hylas would be too long, if I ſhould relate unto you all paſſages concerning my Brother and me, and theſe four Cavaliers. But ſo it was, that Beliſard did negotiate the buſineſs ſo well, that he did not only inſinuate himſelf into great credit with Cercinea, but alſo made Andronira entirely his. Yet as ill fortune was, I was that time conſtrained to take a journey of neceſſary importance about our eſtate, into the Country of Veragrois, and my mother, do what I could, would by all means have me poſt away with all ſpeed; God knows whether this journey was not with an ill will, and whether I would not willingly have referred this charge unto Amilcar: But I being the elder, and conſequently the heir to the eſtate, I muſt reſolve upon this unwilling departure.

But ſee whether Fortune was not reſolved to try my reſolution and patience? When I had ſtayed to the laſt minute, and my journey could not be deferred a jot longer, Cercinea fell ſick; whether it was by too exceſſive heat (for then it was the Dog-days) or whether by eating too much fruit, as young perſons are apt at that ſeaſon; but ſo it was, that ſhe was forced to her bed by a violent Fever: Oh Hylas! How heartily I wiſhed Amilcar were my elder brother; or at leaſt that thoſe Rents which I was to receive and give diſcharge for, had not been due: and the worſt was, Clorian and Palanice never ſtirr'd from her Beds ſide, ſo as it was a thing impoſſible for me to ſpeak unto her before I went, unleſs before thoſe two malignant witneſſes: Imagine what a leave I took, and what ſatisfaction I had in my adieu. It was my cuſtome always to carry Beliſard with me, becauſe I loved him as a ſecond ſelf; but at this time I left him behind expreſly, to try if he could convey a Letter unto this Fair one, which might teſtifie my ſorrows by my departure, and to ſend me word how ſhe did. The Letter was this;

ALCANDERS Letter unto CERCINEA.

OH good Gods! What will be the end of my journey, when the beginning is ſo ſad? To Depart! To Depart, and not be able to ſpeak, and to leave you ſick in Bed, are three ſuch fatal misfortunes as are intolerable. Yet be pleaſed that I ſhall live; Pity my pain, and take ſome ſhare in my inexpreſſible ſorrows.

Upon the firſt opportunity that preſented it ſelf, Belliſard acquitted himſelf of that charge which I left with him; and ſo, that he did not only delude the eyes of [Page] Palanice and Clorian, but alſo of another maid which they had put to wait upon her, being entred into ſome ſuſpition of Andronira. In the mean time, I continued on my journey with ſo much regret that I had not ſpoke unto her, as but for the hopes which I had in the aſſiſtance of Beliſard, I know not what would have been the iſſue of it.

Amilcar in my abſence was ſo diligent in his courtſhip of Palanice, as he put Seleines, Cercineas elder brother, to abundance of pain. This Seleines as you know, was a very brave Cavelier, none excelled him, and few equall'd him in feats of Arms, or any thing belonging to a Cavalier: At Barriers, and Tiltings he always got the advantage: And as he had the eſteem of every one, ſo had he no ill opinion of himſelf; yet curteous and full of reſpect to his friends, but a little imperious in his affection, and thought that he obliged a Lady if he loved her. This Cavalier being brought up in the Court of King Gondebaut, and being very young, he caſt his eyes upon Palanice: Their houſes being near adjoyning, and ſhe being oft in the Queens Court, he had frequent opportunities of ſeeing her. This affection grew ſo great by degrees, that Sileines and Palanice alſo, became both perfect Lovers: yet becauſe the Prince Sigiſmond who was about the ſame age, fell in love at the ſame time with that Lady, reſpect made them diſſemble their loves, and move Sileines to keep at a diſtance: And though this at the firſt was more in appearance then in effect, yet continuing in this diſſimulation, Sileines turned his eyes upon Doriſa; and though he deny it, yet it was generally thought that his jeſting proved to be in earneſt. Palanice, as young as ſhe was, conſented unto this Artifice, to remove from Prince Sigiſmond all cauſe of withdrawing that affection which he profeſſed unto her, and never reſented the loſſes of Sileines, as long as Sigiſmond, continued loving her: But it hapned a while after, that this young Prince whoſe humour was not unalterable, did for ſome cauſe or other withdraw his affection. I believe (ſaid Hylas, and interrupted) that the occaſion was not great; for being then at Lions, I heard as much. The relation of it, replyed Alcander, is various; but the moſt common report is, that Palanice being with the Queen, Prince Sigiſmonds mother, as ſhe was helping to dreſs her, this young Prince came to her, and took her fingers to play with them: Palanice fearing left the Queen ſhould ſee, pull'd back her hand two or three times; and becauſe he continued ſtill, Sir (ſaid ſhe) I beſeech you let me alone: and becauſe ſhe pronounced theſe words ſomthing ſharply, he ſaid unto her, Would you indeed have me let you alone? Then ſhe anſwering in the ſame words and tone; I promiſe you (replyed ſhe and bluſhed) you ſhall never have occaſion to bid me the third time; and upon that he left her, ſo as ever ſince he looked upon her only as a perſon indifferent: The cauſe indeed of this ſeparation was very trivial, but it ſerved to divorce this affection, ſo as it never ſince knit again.

A while before Sileines making ſhew of love unto Doriſa, a very fair and handſome Lady, he became fettered in good earneſt, ſhewing by this experience, that fictions in love are very dangerous; for Love is but a play, and by playing, one may come to love in earneſt. Palanices vexing at the loſs of Sigiſmond, and being diſpleaſed at the diverſion of Seleines, made the way eaſie for Roſiliander, who no ſooner began to wooe, then to win her; and the more eaſily, becauſe ſhe being weary of the Court, and deſirous to be far from the place where ſhe found nothing but diſpleaſures, ſhe entertained Roſiliander, whoſe habitation was the moſt remote parts of the Sebuſians: But ſee whether Love be not a very child, Sileines no ſooner ſaw Palanice gone, but he began to remember that heretofore he had loved her, and grieved more for her abſence then he cared for her preſence. Now began Letters and Meſſages to paſs apace betwixt them, and Love found more heat at a diſtance, then near hand: But it muſt needs be confeſſed, that both of them did well deſerve the pains they endured; Love ſhewed himſelf juſt in puniſhing Inconſtancy, or rather the imprudency of theſe two Lovers, by a two-years abſence, during which time there paſſed good correſpondency betwixt them, and they heard from each other very oft.

At laſt heaven (which does ordinarily favour thoſe that love, and continue loving) did deliver Palanice from the obligations of marriage by the death of Roſiliander. [Page] She ſeeing her ſelf now free, and weary of the Sebuſians, ſhe returned into her native air, where ſhe found Prince Sigiſmond married: and though he was preſently after a widdower, yet no ſparks of that old affection which once he extinguiſhed were ſeen to revive: But Seleines who expected her with extream impatience, receaved her with abundance of contentment.

I make a brief relation of theſe things unto you Hylas, that you may the better underſtand what a task Amilcar undertook when he addreſſed himſelf to ſerve Palanice: ſince ſhe was already engaged another way long before, and that to a perſon of very rare and high accompliſhments; yet the obſervances of my brothers were ſuch, and he addreſſed with ſo much prudence and diſcretion, that Seleines could not defend himſelf againſt apprehenſions of jealouſie, a thing very common amongſt lovers, and ſuch as have not a very full aſſurance of the good will of thoſe they court. At firſt, Palanice ſeemed as if ſhe were afraid to caſt any eye of love upon him; but afterwards, whether it was that ſome friend had given her advice, or whether ſhe diſguſted ſomething in Selienes, but ſo it was, that ſhe received the ſervices of Amilcar very favourably, making it appear that ſhe gave ſuch counſel unto Cercinea, as ſhe would not follow her ſelf, for ſhe adviſed her to make Clorian jealous. One day when Amilcar and Silienes both were with her at her houſe, and neither of them, for fear of each other, durſt talk a ſillable of their affections, they began to hint at it after ſuch a manner, as ſlaves do, for fear of beating, and fell into a diſcourſe of ſlaves. I wiſh, ſaid Sileines, that I might, as ſlaves are for fear of loving, be marked under that notion, by your fair hand: Truly, ſaid ſhe, if you will, I will ſatisfie your deſire. Then taking his hand, ſhall I, ſaid ſhe, with the point of a needle, ſet my mark upon your arm? If you ſhould, ſaid he, I ſhould not keep it long, for it would wear out: No, no, ſaid ſhe, (after ſhe had begun to ſcratch it a little) I will put a little ink upon it, and it will continue long: Sileines then conſenting, ſhe began with the point of a needle to raſe the skin by little and little; but he impatient of ſo much pain, could not any longer indure it. Then Amilcar, holding out his arm, here Madam, ſaid he, honour this arm with what mark you pleaſe, and you ſhall ſee, the pain ſhall not deprive me of that contentment. Palanice, who was not ſo familiar with my brother, no, no, Amilcar, ſaid ſhe, I dare not do you ſo much harm: and yet, replied he, you dare do it for Sileines; 'Tis true, anſwered ſhe, but it is by way of revenge, for he did me an injury long ſince, and I would puniſh him for it. Then Madam, ſaid Amilcar, do that unto this arm by way of recompence, which you would have done by way of revenge upon the arm of Sileines. Pray Sir, ſaid Seleines, what recompence can you demand of her? The gods, replied my brother, do accept of the good will for the deed it ſelf. This Lady therefore, whom I eſteem and honour no leſs then any goddeſſes, does own unto me a great recompence, if it be proportionable unto the good will I have to do her ſervice. The Ladies of this country, anſwered Sileines, are ſo far from ſo much liberality, that they do not pay thoſe debts which they juſtly ow, and therefore it is very unlikely they ſhould be ſo forward as to pay off thoſe obligations which are yet to come. There are, replied my brother, both ſervants and ſervices of ſeveral ſorts and prices: beſides, I believe, prayers and ſupplications will never offend any; and I do beg this favour, but not as a due debt. Palanice, who as I believe was deſirous to nouriſh the jealouſie of Sileines; No, no, ſaid ſhe, I would have Amilcar to know that you do make us far more niggardly and ſpairing of our favours then we are: then taking his hand, but now I do not know, ſaid ſhe, whether my reſolution will let me finiſh that payment which you ask: upon this word ſhe made in his arm the firſt letter of her name, whilſt he did not ſeem ſo much as to feel what ſhe did; and afterwards ſhe took the blackeſt ink ſhe could chuſe, and filled up the ſcratch which ſhe had made, and which entred ſo into the skin, that the print of it would remain a long while, at which Sileines began to grumble, but ſhe began to laugh, and ſaid, had I marked all thoſe that were mine, thus, I ſhould have known them again when they ſtrayed from me, or might in reaſon have demanded them back from thoſe that ſtole them from me. If you think to have retained them that way (ſaid Sileines, who was [Page] extreamly stung, and knew ſhe did it in reproach of him) I believe you are deceived. However, replyed ſhe, I will try this means, ſince I have found all others naught. Take heed (ſaid he, and went away in a diſcontented manner) that the fault be not your own. Thus Sileines went away, and left the room free unto my Brother, who was not at all ſorry to ſee this petty divorce, which yet laſted not long; for within two days after Sileines returned, and with a thouſand repentant ſubmiſſions, obtained a pardon for his cholerick departure.

On the other ſide, Lucindor, the younger Brother of Cercinea, and Cerintes, Brother unto Clorian and Palanice, who loved our Siſter, they loſt no opportunities of ſhewing their wills; and as Seleines was jealous, Lucindor and Cerintes were no leſs. I will not here enter into any elogies in commendations of Florices deportment, left, Hylas you ſhould ſuſpect me of flattery and partiality (ſhe being my Siſter) but the truth is, ſhe carried her ſelf ſo prudently, as deſerved abundance of eſteem; you ſee her modeſt behaviour, and equality towards all, and ſhe is the very ſame towards one that ſhe is towards the other; ſo ballancing her favours, as one can very hardly brag of any favour above the other.

The firſt that loved her was Lucindor, but he was preſently conſtrained to a long journey, he found Cerintes, if not in his place, yet in one that was no leſs advantagious then his; and therefore he being in humour very like unto his Brother Selienes, he was out of all patience; yet Florices diſcretion did ſo temper his ſpirit, that at laſt he was brought to terms of reaſon, though not without much heart-burning betwixt theſe two Rivals; and had not Cerintes been a very rarely accompliſhed Cavalier, and Lucindor the ſame, certainly the jealouſie that was betwixt them was ſuch, as perhaps might have produced ill effects.

When the affections of theſe two Cavaliers were at the height, Florice was forced out of the Town to ſee an Aunt that was very ſick: This departure was very ſad unto both theſe Lovers; for nothing is more inſupportable in love, then to loſe the ſight of the loved party.

Thus theſe four Cavaliers purſued their deſigns, whilſt I was at Agaune, where days ſeemed ſo long and tedious to me as years. And becauſe I ſaw my buſineſs would retain me yet longer there, my deſires of knowing how Cercinea did, and how Beliſard did thrive in my negotiation, I diſpatched a meſſenger unto him, with a Letter for him to preſent unto Cercinea.

This meſſenger made ſuch haſte, that the third day he arrived at Lions, where Beliſard began to be weary, and wonder that he heard no ofter from me, and to think that the buſineſs which I left to his negotiation, ought to have made me write oftner unto him: He began therefore to complain againſt my forgetfulneſs, when he received my letter, which convinced him that he was too blame in having any ſuch thoughts of me: He received theſe Letters with extream contentment, becauſe Clorian about three days before was forced into the Country about ſome buſineſs which would retain him there; but yet Palanice was always at Cercineas beds ſide, or elſe the ſervant which they had ſet to wait upon her: But Amilcar knowing what affection I bore unto Cercinea, he would go often unto Palanice, and entertain her with talk of buſineſs, whilſt in the interim Beliſard effected his.

At this time, when my Letters came, Amilcar was very buſie at Court with Prince Sigiſmond; and Beliſard who ſate upon thorns till he talked with Cercinea, he durſt not go unto her alone; but as fortune was, he met Palanice as ſhe was going from her houſe to the Temple; and aſſoon as ſhe was out of ſight, he went immediately into the houſe, where by fortune he met Andronira; Sweetheart (ſaid he) how does our Miſtris? As for your Miſtris (ſaid ſhe, and ſmiled) I cannot tell how ſhe does; but as for mine, ſhe begins to mend, thanks be to God, and I believe will not long keep her bed. If I have any Miſtris, (replyed he) it muſt be underſtood Andronira, but when I ſay our Miſtris, you muſt underſtand I mean Cercinea; for ſhe being Miſtris unto my Miſtris and my Maſter, I may very well call her ours. Ah Diſſembler (replyed ſhe. and ſmiled) if ſhe were no more the Miſtris of your Maſter, then Andronira is yours, you would not come to ſee her ſo often. Then having ſome buſineſs to do in the houſe, ſhe told him, that he [Page] might venture to go unto Cercinea for all the other woman was there, for ſhe will not tell tales. How? ſaid Beliſard, have you gained her already? Cercinea, anſwered ſhe, has charmed her, and won her love, ſo as I dare ſay ſhe will not do any thing that will diſpleaſe her; but for all that, it is not good to truſt unto her altogether, until a little further tryal; and ſince ſhe takes ſo much delight in ſeeing you dance, and hearing you ſing, I am afraid Beliſard, that if you be my ſervant, I muſt ere long go look out for another. No, no Andronira, (replyed he) but however, I will dance and ſing; and ſhe ſhall love me, and I will ſeem to love her: Upon this, becauſe he would not loſe the opportunity, he went up to Cercineas chamber, in ſuch a ſinging, dancing, and jolly manner, that as ſoon as the Wench heard him; Oh Madam (cryed ſhe, and clapt her hands together for joy) yonder is Beliſard; At the ſame time he entred, and ſeigning not to ſee Cercinea in bed, he ran to the wench with open Arms, as if he would have kiſſed her; but when he came to the middle of the room, he ſtopt upon a ſudden, ſeeming as if he had not ſpyed her Miſtris till then: Madam (ſaid he unto her) had I thought you had been in bed, I ſhould not have preſumed to enter. Beliſard, ſaid ſhe, I know your diſcretion, and therefore you are welcome: this is not the firſt time you have ſeen me in this place. 'Tis true Madam, anſwered he, but now you are ſick, what pretence can I have for my coming hither? To comfort me in my ſickneſs, replyed ſhe. Madam (ſaid he then very gravely unto her) If you would take one medicine which I can tell you, I ſwear by Jupiter it would preſently cure you. Are you in good earneſt? ſaid the wench, and interrupted him. Yes (replyed Beliſard) and I wiſh ſhe would believe me. Did I think (anſwered Cercinea) that your medicine were a good one, I would uſe it. Beliſard who deſired to give her the Letter under this pretence, Madam (ſaid he) when did I ever tell you a lie? Or wherein did I ever deceive you? Never, ſaid ſhe, but I am ſo weary of all Phyſicians, who torment me with ſo many lothſome drugs, as if I thought your medicine were a good one, I would take it with all my heart. Madam, ſaid Beliſard, never let me live a moment longer in your favour, if it do not moſt perfectly cure you. Cercinea knew wel enough that this medicine was ſomthing which was more proper for the mind then the body; and being very willing to be deceived, ſhe hearkned unto him: What? ſaid ſhe, muſt I take any lothſome potion? No, Madam, anſwered he; This medicine does conſiſt moſt in the vertue of ſome words. Perhaps then, replyed ſhe, it is ſome charm. No, replyed he, I am no Sorcerer; The words may be well underſtood, they are no unknown Characters, nor has any thing like Sorcery in them. Then Beliſard, ſaid ſhe, I am willing to make uſe of them, tell me therefore what I muſt do? This remedy, replyed he, muſt be kept very ſecret; for if it be divulged, it will loſe its vertue. Upon this he kneeled down by her beds ſide, and taking the Letter which I had written unto her, Do you think (ſaid he aloud) that I mock you? He who give it unto me, did write in this paper the directions which are to be uſed, and which I will let you ſee: then feigning to look it out amongſt many other papers that he had in his pocket, he gave her the Letter, which he firſt unſealed, to the end the wench ſhould not ſuſpect any thing: Then ſhe read theſe words.

ALCANDERS Letter unto CERCINEA.

OF all the torments that a mortal man can endure, none are more cruel then thoſe of Love; and amongſt all the torments of Love, abſence is the moſt intolerable: and of all abſences, mine has the moſt bitter Qualifications. To loſe the ſight of her for whom only I deſire to have any eyes, to leave her ſick in bed, and not to hear any news of her health, are the tortures which are reſerved for me. If the miſerable condition of a moſt ſadly afflicted heart can move you unto it, let me hear how you do, but let paſſion, and not compaſſion obtain this favour from you.

[Page]Well Madam, ſaid Beliſaid aloud, how like you the receipt? is it not a good one? I do not know, anſwered ſhe and ſmiled, whether it be a good one, but it is very pleaſant. But Madam, replied he, the man who gave it unto me, did give me this alſo, which is a more particular direction how to uſe it; I would have you to ſee it alſo, that you may be as skilful as my ſelf: Then he preſented unto her the Letter which I wrote unto him; Cercinea not daring to refuſe it, leſt the wench ſhould enter into any ſuſpition, ſhe took it. Beliſaid, ſaid ſhe, in a low voice, this is a fine invention to make me reade Letters: Madam, ſaid he, we muſt delude the eyes of this troubleſome wench: upon this, ſhe began to read that Leter which I ſent unto Beliſaid.

ALCANDERS Letter unto BELISAID.

O My dear friend, how infinitely do I envie the happineſs which thou enjoyeſt? all the contentment which I enjoy here, is to think of thoſe felicities which you enjoy there: and every thought ends with this wiſh, that I were as happy as Beliſaid: But dear friend I muſt accuſe you of neglect, that can let it be ſo long without letting me know the ſtate of my life: Of my life, I ſay, ſince it muſt be the place where you are from whence that news muſt come; be thou a little more careful of thy maſter who loves thee: I would ſay with all his heart, if I had it here, but thou knoweſt very well where I left it.

Here is in this, ſaid Cercinea aloud, more buſineſs then you told me of; and the worſt is, I am afraid your receipt will not work thoſe effects: for methinks it is very uncertain, believe it Madam, replied he, there is nothing but what is true, and I will die rather then tell you a lie. Well, ſaid ſhe, what muſt I do to make tryal of it? Madam (ſaid he and ſpoke low) you muſt love my maſter, not only according to his merit, but according to his love of you; and for a teſtimony of it, you muſt honour him with a Letter. Ah Beliſaid, replied ſhe, that is too much; I had rather make uſe of other more common medecines: The wench, who was buſie about ſome trivial work in the chamber, ſhe came then unto her miſtreſs: Madam, ſaid ſhe, you have been ſo long in the hands of Phyſicians, and cloyed with their potions, that it were not amiſs to make trial of Beliſaids receipt. I beſeech you tell me, is it a thing that is difficult to be taken? ſweetheart, anſwered Beliſaid, and interrupted (becauſe he was afraid that Cercinea could not ſet ſo good a diſguiſe upon it as he could) I will tell you what you muſt do: Do you ſee this Paper? (ſaid he taking the Letter which I writ unto Cercinea) all that ſhe need to do, after ſhe has read it over three times, is to ſay, I do believe it with all my heart, and kiſs the Paper; then that ſhe lap it up and hang it in a ſtring about her neck, ſo as it may touch the neareſt place to her heart for nine dayes together, and never truſt Beliſaid again whilſt you live if it do not cure her: O Madam, cried out the wench, this is a fine eaſie medecine, and ſoon done: It is not ſuch an eaſie matter, replied Cercinea, to keep it ſo long to the place next my heart, eſpecially when I am aſleep; there is the greateſt difficulty, ſaid Beliſaid, and that none do read it but your ſelf: for if they do, after you have begun to apply it, they will infallibly have the ſame diſeaſe which you have, and will make you alſo worſe then you were before; and therefore, when the nine dayes are expired it muſt be burned, and ſo (ſaid the wench) all the peſtilence of the diſeaſe will conſume away? No doubt of it, anſwered Beliſaid, and when it is burning, you ſhall ſee ſeveral colours in the fire: O Madam, ſaid the wench then, this remedy muſt needs be good, and I will help you to hang it about your neck, ſo as it may hang juſt to the place of your heart; but firſt let her read it thrice over, ſaid he, [Page] and get you out of ſight, unleſs you will repent it: Cercinea upon this could not forbear laughing, to ſee how quick the wench was to be gone, and then ſhe took the paper and read it, but the wench was more careful of not ſeeing it, then Beliſaid could deſire her, and therefore he called her again, and ſaid, there was no danger to be feared if ſhe did not read the words, ſo as ſhe came in again, they lapped the paper about with ſilk, and hung it about her neck in a ribband; and becauſe Beliſaid ſaid it muſt be applied juſt to the place where her heart did beat, the wench would needs feel with her hand where it was: but Cercinea, who laughed to ſee how officious ſhe was, would not permit her to feel her heart beat. Madam, ſaid the wench, you are not ſo wiſe as you ſhould be, pray let me place it right, for I know if every circumſtance be not obſerved, the medecine will do no good; at laſt, this wench having put the paper where it ſhould be, nine dayes, Madam, ſaid ſhe, will be quickly exſpired, take a little pains, for nothing ſo ſweet as health, ere long you will be able to walk in the Athenian Gardens, and enjoy all the pleaſures about the Town: As Cercinea laughed at this piece of Sorcery, ſo did Beliſaid in his thoughts. But at laſt, becauſe he feared left Palanice ſhould return from the Temple; This Madam, ſaid he is not all, I will now tell you the laſt thing that you muſt do: then approaching near unto Cercinea, Madam (ſaid he in a low voice) I beſeech you, after all this ſport, that you will be pleaſed to have pity upon my maſter, and favour him with the honour of one word in a Letter. Beliſaid (anſwered ſhe in a low voice) though I would, yet I cannot do it, becauſe of theſe two impediments: Firſt, I have neither pen, ink, nor paper; and ſecondly, I am ſo watched, that the eyes of this wench are upon me both night and day, for Andronira and ſhe lie together upon that Pallet in the night. For the firſt difficulty, replied he, it is eaſie to find a remedy, for I will bring you pen, ink, and paper: As for the other, does not a candle burn all night in your chamber? If it do, Andronira, when the other wench is aſleep, may give you the candle, and you may write what you pleaſe. Beliſaid, ſaid ſhe, I would gladly be excuſed this: No, no, anſwered he aloud, you muſt obſerve all circumſtances very exactly; ſo thinking he had ordered every thing very well, he went his way, leſt Palanice ſhould return.

At his going out of the chamber he found Andronira, and (falling into a fit of laughing) ſaid that her miſtreſs would acquaint her with the moſt rare invention that ever was, in which ſhe muſt be aſſiſtant, but he durſt tell her no more for fear of meeting Palanice. This wench who was very ſubtile, went into the chamber, and asked Miſſina (for that was the other wenches name) what was the matter with Beliſaid, that he went away ſo contentedly? We have all reaſon to be ſo alſo, anſwered ſhe, if his receipt be good: What receipt, asked Andronira? Ask my Lady, replied Miſſina; I ſwear ſhe looks better on't already, and ſhe ſaid truly, for Cercinea had laughed ſo heartily, that a very high colour was come into her face: Madam, ſaid Andronira, I beſeech you what ſtrange Phyſick have you taken? Then Cercinea told all paſſages aloud, and afterwards told her every thing in private, at which ſhe could not chuſe but laugh, though ſhe ſeemed to believe it more then Miſſina.

Beliſaid, who deſired my contentment above his life, did not fail to come in the evening, with an inkhorn and paper in his pocket; but it perplexed him extremely to find Palanice at Cercineas bedſide when he came into the chamber: Come (ſaid he in a confident way (how does your Phyſick? Cercinea ſmiled at Palanice, Do you know (ſaid ſhe unto her) that Beliſaid hath given me a receipt? I come to know (ſaid he and interrupted) whether our receipt have cured you. How Beliſaid, ſaid Palanice, can you cure Ladies? Yes, fair ones, anſwered he; and therefore when you are ſick, pray come to none but me, I know you to be a man of much merit and knowledge, replied ſhe, but I never knew that your knowledge reached ſo far, till now. But by the work, anſwered he, it may be known what the workman is: I will give you my life, if within three dayes this fair ſick Lady do not loſe that name: What of fair? (ſaid Palanice) no of ſick, replied he: However ſaid Cercinea, I ſhall not be ſo cloyed with this Phyſick as I have been with others: Palanice would have inquired more particularly what the [Page] Receipt was, and perhaps had made a better diſcovery then Miſſina, but as fortune was, ſhe heard a voice in the ſtreet, which ſhe knew preſently to be Sileines, brother unto the fair Cercinea, and ſhe ran to the window to look upon that Cavalier, who was her profeſſed ſervant, and in the mean time Beliſard conveyed Pen, Ink, and Paper, under the pillow of that fair Lady, beſeeching her to have pity upon the moſt faithful Lover that ever lived. Well, ſaid ſhe, and ſmiled, I will take the advice of my Councel, Clorian and Palanice. Beliſard ſhaked his head, and without any anſwer, went unto the window to avoid ſuſpition, and to hear Sileines ſing. Palanice who was skulking under the window leſt thoſe in the ſtreet ſhould ſee her, cauſed Sileines to enquire whether ſhe was in the houſe; and hearing that ſhe was, he entred, and was doubly glad to ſee his Siſter recovered, and to meet his dear Palanice with her: If Beliſard would have talked with Cercinea, he had opportunity enough; for Palanice and Sileines had ſo much ſerious buſineſs of their own, that they never minded others: But he not thinking it neceſſary to ſtay any longer there, to ſhew that he had no need of any opportunities, he went away, and ſaid nothing to any one, as if he were a domeſtique, and inſiſted not upon any ceremonious complements.

The next morning he went to viſit his patient, and ſee what operation his Receipt had, taking his time for it, when Palanice, according to her cuſtome, had bid good morrow unto Circinea, and was gone to the Temple.

He entred into the houſe, and underſtood from Miſſina, whom he met upon the ſtairs, that Cercinea found her ſelf ſo well after her Receipt, that ſhe had a good mind to riſe, and walk a little up and down the room. And may I go in, ſaid he? Yes anſwered Meſſina, I am confident ſhe will be glad to ſee you; and good reaſon ſhe has, for your Receipt is worth a thouſand of all others, which did but make her worſe. The beſt news replyed he, that I could hear; but Sweet-heart has ſhe not removed the Receipt this morning? No, not yet, anſwered ſhe. Oh ſaid Beliſard, I was afraid ſhe would, and therefore I came to ſee, and put her in mind of it. Upon this he went up the ſtairs, and into the chamber, where he found Cercinea up, and Andronira combing her hair. I am very glad, Madam, (ſaid he unto her after he had bid her good morrow) to find you out of bed. I believe (anſwered ſhe and ſmiled) that if Miſſina fall ſick, ſhe has ſuch a good opinion of you, and your Receipt, that you muſt make the ſame for her. My Receipt Madam, replyed he, is only for you; but I beſeech you tell me, how did you paſs away the night? Andronira can tell you, ſaid ſhe, that I have obſerved your directions: Upon this, ſeeing none in the chamber, ſhe took the Letter from Andronira, and gave it unto him; Here (ſaid ſhe) Seal it, and aſſure your Maſter that I writ it for your ſake. Oh Madam, replyed he, This favour will make him compleatly happy; and I dare ſay, this paper muſt never depart from that place where you wear that Receipt which I gave unto you, for he will hold it at a far dearer rate then all his eſtate. You have that opinion, anſwered ſhe, becauſe you think he loves me. I do not think it, replyed he, for I know it of moſt certain knowledge. As Andronira was combing her hair, Beliſard was very buſie in taking that hair which ſtuck upon the Combe, and which, by reaſon of her ſickneſs, did come off very much. Madam (ſaid he) if you will make him moſt perfectly happy, give me leave to ſend him this which your Comb hath ſtolen from your fair hair. Oh God! ſaid ſhe, I had rather die then any man living ſhould have any of my hair; and becauſe he had it already in his hand, Andronira, ſaid ſhe, let him not have it. Believe it, Madam, ſaid ſhe, he has it already. Oh God! ſaid Cercinea, what a fool you were to let him take it. Then turning towards Beliſard, Come, come ſaid ſhe, give it me again, for I will have it, elſe be extreamly angry with you. Pardon me Madam, I beſeech you, anſwered he; for treaſon, and breach of truſt, is the moſt abominable vice that can be in man. True, ſaid ſhe, but there is neither in this which I ask: If in reſtoring this which you ask, anſwered he, I do not commit treaſon, and break my truſt, I am contented to reſtore what I ſtole; but ſince I know you will count me the moſt infamous man upon earth if I ſhould, I will keep it. Theſe excuſes and pretences (anſwered ſhe) ſhall not ſerve your turn, for I will have it; and indeed Beliſard, you will [Page] do me a moſt ſignal diſpleaſure, if you do not reſtore it unto me. Firſt Madam, ſaid Andronira, he pleaſed to hear his reaſons. My reaſons, anſwered he, are invincible; for when my Maſter commanded me to ſtay in this Town, about the buſineſs which I know of I vowed unto him, to do all I could that would conduce to his contentment; and were I not a Traytor, and a moſt perjur'd perſon, if I ſhould reſtore this back? and did I not falſifie that truſt which he repoſeth in me? Certainly Madam (ſaid Andronira) he is obliged in Conſcience to keep his Vow. Certainly Andronira (ſaid Cercinea) you are out of your wits, to think that any man ought to have any of my hair. Madam, replyed Beliſard, as unto you, Beliſard is no man, he is only your ſervant. She would have replyed, but Miſſina entred; ſhe ſtopt upon a ſudden: and Beliſard fearing leſt this ſudden ſilence ſhould raiſe any miſtruſt, Sweet-heart (ſaid he unto her) I am glad you are come to aſſiſt me, for this Lady will continue the Receipt no longer, and ſays, that once is often enough to uſe it: and I aſſure you, ſhe had better never to have begun, then to leave it ſo imperfect. Oh Madam, anſwered the Wench, What a ſtrange humour is this? Will you be always ſick? I pray what pain does the Receipt of Beliſard put you unto? It vexes me, ſaid Cercinea, to continue the ſame thing ſo long. But Madam, replyed Andronira, Is it not better to continue it ſo long then to continue ſick in your bed? The truth is Madam, ſaid Miſſina, if you will not obſerve the directions of the Receipt with a good will, you ſhall by force, for you muſt read it: Then untying the ſtring which was about the paper, ſhe preſented it unto Cercinea to read. Prithee good Miſſina (ſaid Cercinea unto her, read it for me. Nay by my Faith Madam (anſwered ſhe, and turned away) I heartily thank you, would you have me to be ſick? Andronira and her Miſtris laughed heartily at the ſimplicity of the wench; and after Cercinia had read it, what (ſaid ſhe muſt I do with it now? Kiſs it thrice (ſaid M [...]ſſina) and ſay, I do believe all that is written in this Paper; and becauſe Cercinea ſeemed unwilling, the poor wretch compelled her by force to kiſs it, and repeat word for word every ſillable of the directions, but not without much mirth to all the company: At laſt all the ceremonies of this charm being ended, and Cercinea preſently after dreſt, news was brought that Palanice was returning from the Temple, and Seleines in her company; upon this Beliſard approaching unto her, ſaid, This Preſent Madam, which you have ſent unto the moſt faithful Lover that ever was, or ever will be, will keep him alive: for otherwiſe, his ſorrows, to be ſo long abſent from you, would moſt infallibly have killed him. Beliſard (anſwered ſhe) I do conſent unto what you will; but remember, that if he do fail either in fidelity or diſcretion, you ſhall anſwer for it. Beliſard would have replyed, but the coming in of Palanice and Sileines, and a little after, of Amilcar, prevented him: and when he ſaw them entred into diſcourſe, he retired according to his cuſtome unto his houſe, where he did write every paſſage ſo punctually, as I believe he did not omit one circumſtance. But in what a rapture of joy was I, when opening Cercineas Letter, I found her hair in it! I kiſſed it a thouſand times, and it was happy that none was preſent when I opened them, for it had been a thing impoſſible for me to have concealed my extream contentment. At laſt after I had kiſſed, and over-kiſſed this fair hair, I read the Letter, which was in theſe terms.

CERCINEAS Letter unto ALCANDER.

Your paſſionate Deſire and Wiſhes of my Health, do infinitely oblige and pleaſe me: May Heaven in requital, give you that happineſs and contentment which you merit and deſire. This wiſh comes from her who loves you above all thoſe that profeſs any affection unto Cercinea.

[Page]When I call to memory thoſe contentments which I received at that time, I cannot chuſe but charge them with want of affection, who ſay that there are more pains then pleaſures in love.

For Hylas, no mortal man can be capable of greater felicity, and no leſs then two hearts and two ſouls are requiſite to guſt it. Had any ſeen my actions, certainly they would have ſaid, I had been out of my wits: but I will abridge the relation of them into as narrow a room as poſſibly I can, and tell you that the dayes which I was to ſtay amongſt the Veragrois, ſeemed longer then they were wont to be, and therefore, I made ſuch haſte, as within ſix dayes after, I departed and came to Lions.

As ſoon as I ſaw my beloved Beliſaid, I was ſo tranſported with joy at thoſe good offices which he had done me in my abſence, that I could not Carreſs him enough. He on the other ſide who loved me extremely well, had ſo great a deſire to talk with me in private, that he would hardly give me leave to ſee my mother and my brother. But after our firſt ſalutations, (having given a general relation of my baſeneſs) I pretended to be very weary, that I might retire with my dear Beliſaid: and I believe my brother took notice of it; for I ſaw him ſmile two or three times at my impatience, and meaſuring me by himſelf. Beliſaid on the other ſide, who was no leſs impatient then I, did follow me ſo cloſe into my chamber, as I was no ſooner entred, but he had ſhut the door. Then did I redouble my Careſſes, and asked particular queſtions of all he had done during my abſence. He anſwered unto every thing, with more ſatisfaction to me, then ever I durſt hope for or deſire: Thus Hylas, we ſpent above two hours which ſeemed to me not a quarter, and I believe, had we not been interrupted by beeing called to ſupper, our ſeparation had not been ſoon, but it was not without a million of careſſes and thanks.

Becauſe Beliſaid told me that Cercinea would be glad to ſee me the ſame night, as ſoon as we aroſe from the table, we ſeemed as if we would go to the Court, but went ſtraight to the houſe of that fair Lady; and to have better opportunities of talk, alſo my brother being as deſirous to ſee Palanice as we Cercinea, he went along with us, and by this means we were welcome to the houſe, for Palanice was very glad of my brothers company.

Lucindor, who was a ſervant unto our ſiſter, ſaluted us with all poſſible curraſſes, and Sileines as it fortuned was not there, not thinking that Palanice would go that night unto Cercineas houſe; both ſhe and Palanice were a little ſurprized, to ſee me ſo unexpectedly: Cercinea bluſht, and turning to Beliſaid, after all complements and ſalutes were done; Ah Beliſaid, ſaid ſhe unto him, why did you conceal the coming of Alcander, from us? Madam, anſwered he, it was concealed from me almoſt as much as from you, for he is but newly returned; but going a little nearer her whilſt I was in ſome complements with Palanice; yet ſaid he, if he had come in the morning, I would not have acquainted you: Why, ſaid he, for two reaſons, replied he, the one, becauſe I would not be the relatour of any thing before Alcander. And the other is, becauſe I thought, you would not care for the news; and becauſe ſhe looked upon us and did not anſwer him: what Madam, ſaid he, do you not conſent unto what I ſay? What would you have me anſwer, replied ſhe and ſmiled, but that you are a lyer in both? Upon this, becauſe I came towards her, ſhe left him: I am glad of your return Sir, ſaid ſhe, becauſe now I hope to ſee Florice ſhortly, who cannot be long abſent from ſo dear a brother. I thought Madam, anſwered I, you would have been glad of my return upon another conſideration, more advantageous unto me; but I ſee, that as you are as fair as you were wont to be, ſo you are no kinder then when I departed: what reaſon have you Alcander, replied ſhe, to accuſe me thus? becauſe Madam, replied I, you do not ſay you are glad of my return, for my own ſake, who honours and adores you above all the world: I believe Alcander, ſaid ſhe, that Beliſaid and you have conferred notes together in your chamber, that you may agree both in one tale. Truth is Madam, ſaid I, Beliſaid and I do often talk of you, and had I ſaid that we talk of nothing elſe in private, I had ſaid truly, for I have as great a confidence in him as in my ſelf; but as for conferring of any notes together, [Page] whereof you ſpeak, we never ſo much as thought of any ſuch thing: for there being but one truth, we never agreed together upon any thing elſe. Well, ſaid ſhe, ſeeming deſirous to change diſcourſe, I will believe what you and Beliſaid pleaſe: But pray Alcander tell us how you have lived ſince we loſt you? Madam, anſwered he, if you would know of Alcanders life, you muſt ask the fair Cercinea, for it is only as ſhe is pleaſed to ordain it: Come, come, ſaid ſhe, you are a diſſembler; tell me what adventures you have met with in your voyage, and what contentments you have received in it: Madam, ſaid I unto her, never was man more miſerable then Alcander in his abſence from you, nor ever any ſo happy as he, when he received the honour of hearing from you; and therefore I had reaſon to ſay that my life was juſt as you were pleaſed to have it, nor ever ſhall be any otherwiſe; but this is not it I would know of you, ſaid ſhe, and interrupted him, tell me whether you have effected your buſineſs well, and whether your voyage has been to good purpoſe; Beliſaid ſent me word Madam, ſaid I unto her, that my buſineſs was effected better then I could hope, ſo did the fair Cercinea alſo; and that's the reaſon of my return ſo ſoon, not only to kiſs your fair hand for ſo great a favour, but alſo to pay that Homage which I ow unto you, as unto her who may diſpoſe of my life, and all I have, as ſhe pleaſeth.

She would have anſwered, when Palanice not being ſo attentive to my brothers diſcourſe, as to forget Clorians buſineſs, ſhe obſerving how affectionately I ſpoke unto Cercinea, ſhe came and interrupted us, ſeeming as if it was only out of civility, becauſe I was yet a ſtranger: In the mean Beliſaid was not idle, but talked with Andronira, and inquired of all domeſtick news a particularly as he could: he heard that my affairs could not be in a better condition then they were, unleſs Clorian did marry her, or divert her from me: That Cercinea had a great good will towards me, but the imperious authority of that man, by means of Palanice, did ſo reſtrain her, as it was impoſſible for ſo young a ſpirit to withdraw her ſelf from that ſervitude, ſo ſoon as ſhe and I deſired: That if a means could be found to make Palanice in love with Amilcar, it would be a way to divert her from the protection of her brother: for believe it Beliſaid, ſaid ſhe, love has more prevalence then friendſhip, and if ever ſhe ſhould love in good earneſt, Amilcar might make her do what he would: yet I believe he will have a hard task to overcome her: for Sileines who has loved her long, has gained much upon her. O fool, ſaid Beliſaid unto her, new conqueſts are alwayes moſt eſteemed, and loved.

But being late we were conſtrained to part, and therefore bidding goodnight we retired to our chambers with much ſatisfaction to my ſelf, where as late as it was, Beliſaid and I, had a long diſcourſe, from whom I heard all the diſcourſe betwixt Andronira and him.

As ſoon as Florice heard of my return, it ſeems ſhe had a mind to make good the words of Cercinea; for ſhe preſently came to ſee me, but becauſe her Aunt was very ſick ſhe could not ſtay, only dined with us and then returned; yet not ſo ſoon, but Lucindor was firſt advertiſed of it: for Beliſaid, who thought this to be advantageous unto my affairs, was of opinion that it was requiſite to oblige him, and to enter into ſome conferrence with him, to the end that when he came to Cercineas houſe he might bid him welcome: It was Beliſaid therefore that gave him this intelligence, yet he no ſooner came but Florice departed.

But Hylas, you may remember how I once did write ſomething in the glove of Cercinea; I know not how it came to paſs, but ſo it was, that they came to Palanices hands: we had conceit that Miſſina finding them, did give them unto her; but however, Clorian was quickly acquainted, and leaving all his Court buſineſs at randome, he returned home with more haſt then I deſired. The firſt vexation I reſented, was, that Cercinea entreated Beliſaid to keep me from making ſo many viſits; and when I did go to ſee her, ſhe durſt hardly come near me, or caſt an eye that way, much leſs to ſpeak unto me; I did reſent this change very ſadly, and much admired at it: for I thought thoſe teſtimonies of good will which ſhe had given me, were too great to be forgotten, and to diſſemble, it was too groſs; and becauſe I could not indure this without making ſome demonſtrations of my reſentments, Beliſaid thought it good for me to ſend for Florice; for Lucindor perhaps [Page] might gain upon her; which if he did, he might cauſe Cercinea to ſhake off the tyranny of Palanice and Clorian.

As fortune was, when we were buſied to find out ſome handſome excuſe for her return, the death of our Aunt did furniſh us with a very good one, ſo as ſhe returned of her ſelf, ſooner then we looked for her. The ceremony of mourning for this good aged woman was ſoon over; for the infirmities of old age were ſuch a great burthen unto her, that her friends rejoyced, rather then mourned to ſee her delivered from them. As ſoon as Florice came, I deſired her to uſe her utmoſt endeavours upon Lucindor, to favour me; ſhe, who loved me very well, and wanted neither wit nor will to negotiate ſuch a matter, did ſo prevail with Lucindor, that he took my part both againſt Clorian, and againſt Palanice: indeed he ſpoke ſo affectionately to his Siſter, as ſhe (to our thoughts) had ſome inclination to me, and began to lean towards my ſide; when Clorian and Palanice taking notice of it, reſolved to negotiate with Sileines, after the very ſame manner that Florice did with Lucindor; for Sileines was in love with Palanice, and was elder brother unto the fair Cercinea, ſo as by this means he took their part all that poſſibly he could. To what purpoſe Hylas ſhould I uſe any longer diſcourſe upon this matter; Sileines for the love he bore Palanice, took Clorians part, ſo as theſe two Brothers were one againſt the other, and the Family ſo divided, that all was like to be in a great confuſion: But Hylas, it hapned alſo at the ſame time, that as Cercineas family was divided betwixt Clorian and me: ſo ours alſo was divided betwixt Lucindor and Cerintes; for thoſe two Cavaliers (as I told you) loved our Siſter Florice; and I took part with Lucindor, becauſe he was Cercineas brother, who did me all the good offices he could; and Amilcar favoured Cerintes, brother unto Palanice, upon the ſame intereſt: And preſently after, the ſame diſſention hapned between Clorian and Cerintes, becauſe Clorian was all for Sileines, who loved Palanice; and Cerintes ſolicited Palanice for Amilcar, becauſe he was the ſervant of Florice.

So ſee, I beſeech you, how Love had buſied himſelf amongſt us; for Florice never met Cercinea, but ſhe ſpoke unto her in my behalf, and Cercinea ſolicited as much in behalf of Lucindor, Cercinea never ſaw Palanice, but ſhe entreated her to favour Sileines, and Palanice at the ſame time recommended Clorian unto her. When Palanice met Florice, ſhe ſolicited her in behalf of her Brother Cerintes, and Florice ſolicited her in behalf of Amilcar. Judge (I beſeech you) when we met all together, what fine diſcourſe there was amongſt us: It was very happy we were all intimate friends before theſe croſs intereſts fell out; for otherwiſe, doubtleſs things would have fallen out very foul amongſt us: But all of us foreſeeing that things could not long continue thus, without ſome more bitter exaſperations, one day when we were all met together at Cercineas houſe, we all agreed, both Ladies and Cavaliers, to ſubmit our ſelves unto the Will of God, and ſo went all together to enquire of the Oracle, at the Temple of Venus, where we received this anſwer.

The Oracle.

LEt Six within this Place remain,

Till Honour otherwiſe ordain:

No anſwer to the Female three

Expect, unleſs alone they be.

An old man who expounded theſe words unto us, ſaid, that the Oracle commanded us to ſtay in this Town until ſuch time as ſome action of honour conſtrained us to depart: and that if the Ladies came alone without us, the Oracle would tell them what they ſhould do. We underſtood that three days after they went and conſulted with the Oracle. As for us ſix, we ſtill waited until ſome honourable occaſion cauſed us to go out of Lions: And now it ſo fell out, that the Prince Godomar [Page] being to attempt the preſervation of Dorinde, the Prince Sigiſmond commanded us to follow him, and we thought our ſelves obliged in honour to obey him; ſo we came hither, where we found theſe three Ladies; but we know not yet how Love will diſpoſe of our affairs.

Thus ended Alcander; and it being very late, Hylas (who began to be very ſleepy) bade them good night, went to his own Bed, and ſlept till the next morning.

Important affairs did ſo take up the mind of Adamas, and interrupted his ſleep that he oft left his bed before he had cloſed an eye; and though his age required reſt, yet his affection to the ſervice of the Nymph, and the publique ſafety, did make him ſtrain his weak and wearied body beyond belief; ſuch power has deſire of doing well upon a generous perſon. The greater he ſaw the danger, and the more difficult he found the remedies, the more did he rouſe up his generous ſpirit and judgement to oppoſe the deſignes of Polemas.

And indeed, the difficulties he ſaw were not a few, nor ſmall; for he ſaw the Nymph deſtitute of men and money, and to have no place of ſecurity but Marcelle, where he made no queſtion but her enemies had many friends, and good intelligence: That ſhe was to defend her ſelf againſt a great Souldier, who had all the men, the Forts, the Intelligence, and all the money of her Dominions in his power: His greateſt difficulty was, to make his preparations to oppoſe this Treaſon ſo ſecretly, that the enemy ſhould not perceive it; a thing ſo difficult, that it ſeemed impoſſible: For Polemas had ſo corrupted all thoſe which he had drawn to his faction, as Adamas hardly knew whom to truſt.

The truth is, the unexpected coming of Prince Godomar in a time ſo opportune, and of all thoſe Cavaliers who were with him, as alſo of Damon and Alcidon, did much encourage him; thinking it a moſt infallible ſigne, that the Gods intended to preſerve the Nymph againſt the tyranny of this wicked man. When he was deep in theſe thoughts, thoſe of the Guard ſent to let him know, that there was a good Troop of ſtrangers who deſired entrance, who not being willing to tell their names, ſtayed there; yet their deſigne ſeemed not to be bad, ſince there was many Ladies in Coaches. This intelligence was no ſooner given unto the Druide, but two Cavaliers were conducted unto him, to let him underſtand what men they were.

Theſe two Cavaliers were well in years, and ſeemed to be perſons of great reſpect, which cauſed Adamas to do them much honour. And becauſe they deſired to talk in private with him, he carried them into his Cloſet, where the elder of them began thus.

Prudent and ſage Sir, Argira, Queen of the Picts, hath ſent us unto the great Nymph, to let her know, that ſhe is entred into her Dominions, before ſhe gave her any notice of it, becauſe, not deſiring to be known, for ſome reaſons which ſhe will ſhew her, ſhe thought it would not be diſpleaſing unto her: And becauſe ſhe is conſtrained to obey an Oracle, ſhe has ſent us, to beſeech you from her, you would be pleaſed to permit her entrance, and to let her paſs unknown, aſſuring her ſelf, that when the Nymph does know the reaſon of her deſire, ſhe will think it moſt juſt. How? ſaid Adamas and interrupted, is the Queen of the Picts at the Gates? And being anſwered ſhe was; Oh God (ſaid he) how ſorry will the Nymph be, if ſhe ſhould not know it, and will be extreamly diſpleaſed that ſo great a Princeſs ſhould be no better received in her Dominions! He would have gone on in his excuſe, if theſe two Cavaliers had not interrupted him. Sir (ſaid they) the Queen deſires not to be known upon any terms, and beſeecheth the Nymph to conceal her: We are not ſhye in acquainting you with it, becauſe we hear great reports of your wiſdom; but we beſeech you, from the Queen our Miſtris, to take no notice of it, and to let her ſee the Nymph, as a ſtranger unknown, that ſhe may communicate the cauſe of her Voyage unto her. I know Sirs (ſaid Adamas unto them) that the Nymph would not upon any terms in the world diſpleaſe the Queen, but will be extreamly joyed to ſee her within her Dominions; and ſince you deſire to have it ſo, we will go all together unto the Nymph, [Page] and acquaint her whoſe pleaſure I know is, that the Queen may command any thing here as freely as amongſt the Picts.

Upo this, they went all three together, and Adamas acquainted her with the news, which being ſo unexpected, did not a little aſtoniſh her; and cauſing the two Cavaliers to enter, ſhe underſtood from them what Adamas had briefly hinted unto her, and more, that the principal cauſe which moved Argira to come thus unknown, was that misfortune of Roſilion whom ſhe brought with her, and whoſe mind was ſo diſtracted, as moved much compaſſion from all thoſe that formerly knew him.

For his reaſon, ſhe deſired that he might be lodged by himſelf, where none might ſee him but his domeſticks. The Nymph would have gone her ſelf to meet her, but the Cavaliers fell down upon their knees and beſought her not to do ſo, becauſe the Queen would be extremely offended at it; for Roſilion would ſometimes commit ſuch groſs follies when he was in any company, that Argira was conſtrained to come almoſt alone, having brought with her but the Princeſs Roſanira, the daughter of Poliander King of the Boyers and Ambaries, and a ſmall company of Cavaliers to guard them.

Since (ſaid the Nymph unto them) the Queen is not pleas'd to let me pay that honour which I ow unto her, my daughter Galathea ſhall go in my room to wait upon her unto her lodging in the Caſtle, where ſhe may be ſeen by none but whom ſhe pleaſe: No, ſaid the Cavaliers, ſhe will not be pleaſed with that, ſhe will accept of the lodging which you are pleaſed to offer, becauſe ſhe would be near you; but we moſt humbly beſeech you not to let the Nymph, your daughter, meet her. Madam (ſaid Adamas unto her) ſince it is her pleaſure ſo to have it, be pleaſed to content her in it, and tell her that all your Dominions is in her power, and that you will obey her in all things: If you pleaſe to command me I will wait upon her to her lodging, and ſeem as if I went only to command the gates to be opened for her entrance.

Thus was Argira brought to the Caſtle, and all thoſe that came with her, which were about a hundred Cavaliers, were lodged in the Town with all fitting accomodation. Adamas did moſt heartily rejoyce at the arival of the Princeſs, thinking it a great advantage to the Nymphs affairs: for he could not imagine ſhe came to ſtay only a few dayes; and that if Polemas did attempt any thing, ſhe would be engaged in the Town with them, which would invite the Picts to come and relieve her: Beſides, having heard of Roſilions great exploits in arms, and of the amity betwixt him and Policander the King of the Boyers and Amburies, and moreover, knowing that Roſanira his daughter was with the Queen of the Picts, it was not likely that ſuch great Kings her neighbours, would ſuffer her to be beſieged in a place without ſending relief. And having thus communicated theſe things unto the Nymph and Prince Godomar, they were both of opinion, that it was neceſſary to oblige this Queen, by all manner of kindneſſes, to intereſt her ſelf in their affairs.

And becauſe Adamas had already obtained of the Queen, that Amaſis and Galathea might come and ſee her, as ſoon as ſhe had a little refreſhed her ſelf, the Nymph went unto her, carrying with her only Galathea and Adamas. And that none might take any notice of it, ſhe went through a gallery which paſſed between both their lodgings.

Argira, hearing of her coming, went into the gallery to meet her, having none with her, but three aged Ladies and old Cavalier. The firſt ſalutations being done, Argira taking the Nymph by the hand, and ſitting down, Galathea deſired leave to go and kiſs the hands of the Princeſs Roſanira, which the Queen moſt willingly conſented unto: when ſhe was gone with one of thoſe old Ladies, and the doors being ſhut, the Queen commands the old Cavalier to relate, as briefly as he could, the cauſe of her voyage, and not to conceal or diſguiſe from the Nymph, or any thing which concerned that buſineſs; and ſo the Cavalier, in obedience to her commands, began thus.

The Hiſtory of ROSANIRA, CELIODANTE and ROSILION.

[Page]

PAtience and impetuoſity are two means by which men may bring great things to paſs; for the one works by force and violence, throwing down every thing that oppoſes his deſign: and the other by temporizing and ſmoothing the enemy, does get the victory, ſo as it ſeems one may arive at one and the ſame end, by two contrary wayes. He that is maſter of both theſe qualities together, may be thought more then man; but becauſe humane infirmity is very rarely capeable of both, I think, that all things rightly ballanced, Patience and Moderation is moſt comendable and profitable, as being moſt grounded upon reaſon, And that he, who takes violent impetuoſity for his guide, is ſooner brought to ruine, and inevitable precipices.

Wiſe and great Nymph, the diſcourſe I am to make unto you, will teſtifie, that if the Queen had alwayes ſet this maxime before her eyes, ſhe would not have fallen into ſo many inconveniency and diſpleaſures as ſhe hath; but when one goes into paſſion for advice, it is not to be wondred if the advice be often againſt reaſon, and draw after it a long train of misfortunes and diſtaſters; of which I will make you as brief a Relation as poſſibly I can.

Be pleaſed to know Madam, that Policander King of the Boyers and Ambries, being a Prince very young, and ſeeing that his Provinces, under the ſage government of the King his father, did enjoy a ſecure peace, he was deſirous to travel, and by his courage to get glory and renown, ſo as he ſtole away ſecretly, and with one ſervant only, went into the next warre he heard of. This young Prince paſſed under the notion and title of the errant Cavalier, not only throughout all Gaul, but alſo amongſt the Grudiens, Menapiens, Battaves, Ubiens, Latobriges, Henides, Tullingeans, Marcomanes; and briefly through all high and low Germany: and afterward paſſing into great Brittain, he ſtayed long in the Court of that great King, where, and every where elſe, under the name of the unknown Cavalier, he got ſo much glory, as hardly any in all Europe was better known then he that paſſed for unknown.

At laſt, deſiring to return into his own Kingdome, he imbarqued loadned with abundance of glory, and being upon the Armorick coaſt, his deſtiny carried him into the Court of the King of Picts, who hearing the fame of his valour, did receive him with ſo much curteſie as invited him to ſtay longer there, then he deſigned.

During the time of his ſojourn there, he ſaw the Princeſs Argira; and as all things that are written down in the book of Fate are inevitable, ſo as he loved her, ſhe could not chuſe but entertain his affection. This laſt deſigne made him forget his firſt, of returning into his own kingdome, but ſtayed ſome moneths in this Court where he changed the name of Cavalier errant unto that of Lover. The truth is, great Nymph, his valour, and the glory of ſo many combats, atchieved with ſo much courage and happy ſucceſs, the diſcretion honour and reſpect wherewith he courted this young Princeſs did oblige her to entertain that affection which he expreſſed unto her, but yet ſhe would not let her good will unto him appear, until ſhe knew that he was Prince of the Boyers and Ambaries; but he having ſecretly made it known unto her, and ſhe not being ſo young but ſhe could ſee that her father could not make choiſe of a husband for her more great, nor more worthy to command over the Picts, upon his promiſe never to marry any other but her, ſhe took him for her husband, and ſuffered him to come unto her ſecretly. I ſee, great Nymph, that the Queen does bluſh to hear me relate theſe things: but the belief which ſhe might juſtly have, that a Prince ſo great and ſo full of honour and affection, would not betray thoſe aſſurances which he had given unto her, does ſufficiently juſtifie her action and render her blameleſs.

[Page]They continued thus together ſome moneths, unperceiued by any, unleſs her Nurſe, whom ſhe acquainted with it, as her, that was to facilitate their meetings, and her ſon whoſe name was Verances, whom Policander truſted, and moſt employed in this buſineſs: At laſt, Fortune would not let them any longer live in reſt together, but gave Policander a cauſe of returning into his own Kingdom, by the death of the King his Father. This ſeparation was extreamly ſad unto them both, eſpecially unto the Princeſs, who did not only reſent his abſence, but did almoſt foreſee that he would forget her: yet conſidering that beſides the loſs of his father, there was a neceſſity of his return, ſhe conſented unto it, and the more willingly, becauſe he promiſed to ſend his Ambaſſadours immediately, to demand her of the King, and ſo their deſired contentment would this way be compleated. Thus he left her, after a thouſand promiſes and oaths, which no ſooner out of ſight, but were all forgot; for never ſince did ſhe hear any thing of him more then what common reports did bring unto her. By this common Fame ſhe underſtood, that all his Kingdoms were in a flame, and divided into two factions, the one of the Queen his mother, who was all for him; and the other of a puiſſant Prince, in ſome ſort his Coſen, called Bourbon Archimbout, who relying upon his friends and confederates, pretended unto the Soveraigne Authority, and to reſtore it unto his Family, which he ſaid the great Grandfather of Policander had taken from Bourbon his Anceſtor, He made this attempt the more boldly, becauſe a report was ſpread abroad that Policander was dead, who was the only Succeſſor betwixt him and the two Crowns. The King on the other ſide who was old, and whoſe vigour and ſtrength began to fail, never offered to make any oppoſition againſt this deſigne, although he ſaw it; but paſſed away his life ſmoothly and calmly as he could: ſo as when he came to die, the faction of the Prince Archimbaut was ſo high, that if Policander had not ſpeedily arrived, certainly the Queen, his Mother, would have been forced to yeild unto rebellion: For beſides the ſtrength of his Faction, he was alſo aſſiſted by the power of the Limovices, the Queen of which people was his ſole and only daughter, who had married their King, and was left a Widdow within a year, having only one daughter by him, named Cephiſe.

The Princeſs Argira came to the knowledge of all theſe things, only by common Fame; and becauſe ſhe thought her ſelf nearly intereſſed in the buſineſs, ſhe deſired the King, her Father, to ſend him relief; and the more eaſily to invite him unto it, ſhe did craftily make it known unto him, that the unknown Cavalier who had been ſo long in his Court, was the King Policander; but for all that, reaſon of State moved him to take the other ſide: For the partakers of Archimbaut made him believe, that Policander was already ruined, that all his hopes were gone, and that it was no prudence to make himſelf ſo potent an enemy, as him, who had already the Kingdom of the Lemovices in right of his daughter, and who ere long would be King of thoſe two Kingdoms: Briefly, theſe conſiderations were ſo cunningly inſinuated into the Kings Belief, as they had ſuch an influence upon him, that in lieu of aſſiſting Policander, as ſhe deſired, and as indeed he ought to have done (for all Kings ought to be enemies unto Rebels) he ſent forces unto Archimbaut, and ſuch, as Policander was counſelled not to put things to the hazard of Arms, but rather to ſtop all factions by a more ſafe, and a more eaſie way, which was, by a marriage betwixt him and the only daughter of Prince Archimbaut, whoſe name was Cloriſena, who though a widdow of the King of Lemovices, yet was very fair and young. Policander did the more willingly hearken to the motion, becauſe he was extreamly incenſed againſt the King of the Picts, for ſending aid unto his enemy; and Archimbaut was the more willing to embrace it, becauſe having but one daughter, and out of hopes to have any more children, he could deſire no more then to ſee his daughter Queen of the Boyens and Ambaries, and his grand-children King of thoſe two Kingdoms. But that which moſt of all moved Policander unto it was, a ſtrong report that the Princeſs Argira was dead; and though the news was falſe, yet was it not without ſome colour of truth; for ſome moneths after Policander was gone, ſhe perceived her ſelf to be with childe, and being deſirous to hide it from the King her father, whom ſhe feared, and not without [Page] reaſon, ſhe feigned her ſelf to be ſick, which ſhe might eaſily do, by reaſon of her extream diſpleaſure to ſee her ſelf caſt off by him in whom ſhe moſt truſted, ſhe ſo perſwaded the King unto a belief of it, that he thought it good for her to leave the Court for change of ayr; and having made choiſe of a very retired place, which by the opinion of Phyſicians was of a very wholſome ayr, ſhe was conducted thither with what company ſhe beſt pleaſed; and taking very few with her but her Nurſe and her ſon, they only knew of her being brought to bed. Now as news is like unto a ball of ſnow, which being tumbled from the top of a hill, does grow as big as another hill before it come to reſt, ſo the reports of her ſickneſs was made to be death unto Policander, without which he could not conſent unto this marriage, at leaſt not without perjury.

This marriage was the firſt news which ſhe, to her great grief, heard of, when ſhe returned again to the King her father: and doubtleſs ſhe had more deeply reſented it, if ſhe had not alſo heard, that Policander was forced unto this marriage, and that if he had not done ſo, certainly he had loſt his Kingdoms: This gave ſome ſatisfaction to her ſad ſoul, when ſhe conſidered, that he committed this fault by conſtraint, and not by conſent of will: and as if he had known what reports were amongſt us, he uſed the ſame to clear himſelf; and ſince there was no other remedy, ſhe believed them. But her greateſt grief was, to hear that the King of the Santons had ſent to treat upon a marriage with her, and that it was already reſolved upon. This news was moſt abominable unto her, becauſe ſhe was reſolved againſt all bands of matrimony, ſince ſhe was ſo unworthily deluded by the firſt: But now ſhe ſaw her ſelf conſtrained to change her reſolution, ſince ſhe could not contrary it, unleſs ſhe ſhould make known what ſhe had ſo carefully concealed; which being once known, would extreamly vex the ſoul of her aged Father, and become a ſtain both unto his reputation and her own: Upon this prudent conſideration, ſhe married the King of the Santons, by whom within a year ſhe had a ſon who was named Celiodantes.

But becauſe ſhe conſented unto this marriage only upon reaſon of State, ſhe ſtill retained her firſt affection unto the Prince Policander; and it vexed her very ſoul to think the King of the Santons ſon ſhould inherit two great Kingdoms: whilſt he, whom ſhe had by Policander, ſhould live unknown, and without any Dominion. Then again, to have the Son of him whom ſhe loved not, always under her eye, and to be always deprived of his whom ſhe did love, ſeemed intolerable unto her. See Madam what affection will make her do, and into what extream it will drive one. A little while after ſhe was well recovered from her lying in, ſhe feigned to be very deſirous (as it is the common curioſity of mothers) to know what would be the fortune of her new born ſon: The King indeed did all he could to diſſwade her from it, as thinking it beſt to be ignorant of things inevitable; but ſeeing her ſo extreamly deſirous of it, he permitted her. There was then in thoſe quarters a famous Sybil, who, if they may be ſo termed, rendred Oracles; and ſurely ſome God did ſpeak by her mouth, for otherwiſe it were impoſſible any humane ſhould foretel things ſo certainly as ſhe did: She was an old woman of great ſanctity and ſolitude of life, her hair, which ſhe wore looſe about her ſhoulders, was of the ſame colour with her garment, both white as ſnow, and her feet were always bare. This woman did profeſs to be inſtructed by thoſe who ſucceeded Vellede and Ganna, two famous Druids who rendred Oracles in Germany, and from whoſe inſtitution came the Iſle of Sayn, otherwiſe called Sena, in the Britanique Sea, oppoſite unto thoſe Banks which are termed Oſiſiniens, a place highly renowned for Oracles there rendred. The name of this woman was Meluſine, and ſhe was one of the nine which inhabited in the Iſle of Sayne: But in as much as they divided themſelves into nine Regions, and this Sybils lot was the Picts, the Santons, and moſt of the Armorique Cities, ſhe came to inhabite upon the top of a Rock, where ſhe cauſed a Tower to be built, which ſhe named Lux ignis, from that divine fire which ſhined in all her anſwers, and which ſince was called by the people Luſignan; thither came all the country about to conſult with her: At the firſt it was a hard matter to ſpeak with her, for ſhe would never ſhew her face, to the end, as I believe, that more reverence might be had of her; and when any deſired [Page] to know any thing of her, the beſt of the company muſt always come and bring the demands, and carry back the anſwers, and not daring to preſume ſo high as to look her in the face; which to prevent, ſhe wore a veil, that if any were ſo raſh as to look up, he might not ſee her. Now this Sybil was then at the Rock of Lu [...]gnan: And though ſhe uſed a fortnight before the Miſleto was gathered, to come unto a ſtone near Poictier, and there remain nine days ready to anſwer all queſtions, yet the Princeſs would not ſtay till ſhe came ſo near us: Having therefore the Kings leave, ſhe went unto this Rock, with as few in her company as ſhe could; and having accoſted the Sybil, ſhe asked her what would be her Sons fortune: But the Sybil anſwered:

The Anſwer of the Sybil Miluſine, unto the Princeſs ARGIRA.

HArk what the Fortune of them both ſhall be:

With Fratride the one of them you'll ſee,

And by an Inceſtous marriage menac'd be.

In Forrests where ſhall be Prince Godomar,

The other ſhall his ſenſes there recover:

Then Fate will kindly be both t'one, and other.

This Oracle, not then underſtood, did put her into a cruel perplexity, and ſhe ſaw now that the King, her father, had good reaſon to diſſwade her from that curioſity; yet ſilently keeping the anſwer to her ſelf, at her return ſhe fancied a different conſtruction, which was, that if the young Celiodantes were ſeen, either by his father, or mother, or any elſe, except his Nurſe, and thoſe that were to nouriſh and bring him up, for a certain time, he would infallibly die. The Kings were exceedingly loth to be deprived of the ſight of the little Cleodantes, yet fearing ſome ſuch malignant influence, they conſented to humour the Queen in her deſires. Now the reaſon why ſhe deſired this, was only to put the ſon of King Policander into the place of the King of the Santons, as well to enjoy the contentment of ſeeing him brought up with her, as to ſee him hereafter King of the Santons and the Picts: And her deſign was ſo handſomly carried, that at the return of the wrong Celiodantes, none had any ſuſpition of him, though he was a little too big for his age: For the King of the Santons being of a big tall ſtature, did help to make every one believe that he would be like his father. Thus Madam, this Princeſs was both a bad and a good mother. In the mean time, ſhe fearing leſt if the right Celiodantes ſhould remain in a place where he might be ſeen by any of the Court, he might come to be known, either by his reſemblance of his father, or by the indiſcretion of thoſe who had the keeping of him, ſhe pack'd him away, as far off as ſhe could, and ſent him to a Port of the Santons, to be brought up as the childe of Verances, unto whom ſhe committed the care of him, with a good ſum of money for his education, and to inſtruct him in all ſuch exerciſes and qualities which a Cavalier ought to be: and leſt by any fortune he ſhould chance to be loſt, either by the death of Verances, or any other accident, ſhe thought it good to give him ſome mark whereby he might be known: In order to this, ſhe took a hot iron, with intention to burn him upon the left hand; but as ſhe was looking about where it ſhould be done to do him the leaſt harm, & be leaſt ſeen, ſhe ſaw that Nature had ſaved her that labour, and had placed upon the ſame hand a moſt perfect Roſe, ſo exactly, that no art could poſſibly do the like: She contented her ſelf with this mark, and commanded Verances, that at the firſt Town he came unto, he ſhould take the picture of that little hand, and ſend it unto her, which ſhe [Page] intended to keep as a memorandum; and when ſhe was ready to part, ſhe took a Turkiſh ſtone from about her neck, which Policander gave her, and which ſhe eſteemed at a very dear rate, not for the value of it, for it was of no great price, but becauſe he gave it unto her when he told her that he was King of the Boyers, which he was wont to wear in all his Travels: This ſtone had engraven upon it, a Lion, with certain German letters, which in that language ſignified a King, the ſon of a King: Policander wore it for his motto; intimating, as the Lion is the King of all other animals, and was begotten by another Lion: ſo he, though he ſeemed to be only a Cavalier errant, yet was he a King, and the ſon of a King. The Queen Argira ſeeing what fortune this little Celiodantes was to run, ſhe thought this motto ſuited with him very well: beſides, a Turkiſh ſtone is very lucky when it is given with a good will; ſo ſhe hung it about his neck, kiſſed him, and recomended him to Verances, beſeeching the gods to be propitious unto him: Natural affection began to work upon the heart of a mother, yet the Tirant love would needs ſhew himſelf the ſtronger. Perhaps Madam, you may think it ſtrange, that in a buſineſs of this importance, the Queen ſhould imploy Verances, a young man, and one whoſe underſtanding perhaps was not ſo great as ſuch a ſecret required. But be pleaſed to know that Verances was ſon unto her nurſe, and they two only did know of Policanders love, and the birth of that child which was in the room of Celiodantes, ſo as ſhe thought it not convenient to truſt any more with thoſe paſſages, but better to imploy theſe then any other: beſides, ſhe was deſirous, that if it were her fortune to die, the King Policander might be informed by ſome, what love had made her do for his ſon, and ſhe knew that he would give credit unto whatſoever this man did ſay.

In the mean time King Policander had by the Queen his wife a ſon and a daughter: The ſon was called Ariontes, and the daughter Roſanira, and preſently after Cloriſone died, and left many that ſadly lamented her loſs. Policander mourned beyond the imaginations of every one, for it was thought that he loved her only as the mother of his children; yet moſt certain it was that he did love her, and as certain that Argira was quite out of his memory: O the odd humours of ſome men, who can forget thoſe they once loved as ſoon as ever they are out of ſight.

Policander ſeeing himſelf a father of ſo fine an off-ſpring and a widdower, he bent all his ſtudies to rule his dominions well, and to ſee his children educated in all noble and Princely exerciſes and qualities ſutable to their ſexes and degrees. And becauſe the Princeſs Cephiſe, his wifes daughter, whom ſhe had by the King of the Lemovices, and ſomthing elder then Roſanira, was in his hands, after the death of her mother, he brought her up with his own children, making no difference between her and Roſanira, who having attained to the age of ſeven or eight years began to appear ſo fair that ſhe carried away the glory from the greateſt beauties in all Gaul, although Cephiſe in the eyes of many did not yield unto her. The young Prince Ariontes on the other ſide, was ſo apprehenſive and capable of every excellency (that he applied himſelf unto) that no Prince of his age did equal him either in exerciſes of warre or peace, which joyed the heart of Policander beyond all expreſſions.

At that time there was ſome certain Merchants which uſed to traffick upon the Armorick ſeas, and by reaſon of the conveniency of the river Loire, did bring their wares into the Provinces of Gaul, amongſt the Heduois, Burgundians, Allobroges, Galloligures, and others: Theſe being conſtrained to paſs through the Territories of the Boyers and Ambaries, in hopes of a free and ſafe conduct did preſent unto the King Policander many rare and precious things, and amongſt the reſt, a young ſlave, ſo farre and ſo exceedingly handſome, that as ſoon as the King ſaw him, he did dedicate him unto the ſervice of the two Princeſſes Cephiſe and Roſanira, becauſe he ſeemed to be no elder then the youngeſt of them. Theſe Princeſſes lov'd him exceedingly well, being of a very pliant and ſweet diſpoſition, and ſtrove who ſhould moſt oblige him by careſſes: and becauſe his name was Kynicſon and that word hard to pronounce, they called him moſt commonly by reaſon of his beauty, the fair ſlave. But O the fate of inclination? Although [Page] he was given at the firſt unto both thoſe Princeſſes, yet he devoted himſelf ſolely unto the ſervice of Roſanira; not but that he obeyed Cephiſe in all her commands, becauſe he knew it was her deſire and his duty ſo to do; but yet that ſervice which proceeds from affection was wholly unto the other, at which Cephiſe would doubtleſs have been very angry, if ſhe had been compoſed of any Gaul, but ſhe was of ſo wiſe and ſweet a temper, that though ſhe had a mind to be ill pleaſed with him, yet ſhe could not be angry: ſo as all her anger did turn it ſelf into jealouſie of her ſiſter, and ſometimes to twit him, who as young as he was, knowing that the diſpleaſure of that Princeſs might do him as much harm, did endeavour to pleaſe her, but it was ſo hard to hide his affection unto Roſanira, that ſhe was alwayes harping upon that ſtring.

One day, Cephiſe chid him for that he minded no ſervice but her ſiſters, and ſcorned all others: Roſanira, by fortune heard him anſwer thus: Madam (ſaid he unto her) I think it a moſt high honour to do you ſervice, and if I fail, you will oblige me, if you puniſh me; but the very truth is, that though you ſhould not be willing I ſhould ſerve your ſiſter, yet you muſt take away my life if I do not; for if I live I cannot chuſe. But why (anſwered Cephiſe very angrily) and did not ſee Roſanira) have you a more ready will to ſerve my ſiſter, then me? are not you mine as well as hers? I did not ſay (replied he very modeſtly) but that I am as ready to ſerve you as I ought to do: but, but me no buts, replied ſhe, and looked red with anger, and going nearer him: but Madam, anſwered he, then ſpying Roſanira, and changing his diſcourſe upon a ſudden: but Madam, here is the Princeſs your ſiſter: upon this word, going back a pace or two, he ſlipt out of the chamber door.

This Modeſty did extreamly pleaſe both the Princeſſes; Cephiſe, becauſe he would not acquaint Roſanira with any paſſages betwixt them; and Roſanira, at his diſcretion, in hiding the anger of her Siſter Cephiſe; ſo as that paſſage cauſed both of them to love him better then before. And a few days after, Roſanira having an opportunity of talk with him, Prithee, ſaid ſhe unto him, tell me one thing truly; Have you not much ado to content my Siſter? Madam (anſwered he) I ſhall be very glad to be told of my faults, if I neglect any thing in her ſervice. I can tell you one (replyed ſhe, and ſmiled) and adviſe with your ſelf whether you will relapſe into it, or no. Surely Madam, anſwered he, I ſhall not; at leaſt I will endeavour all I can. It is (continued Roſanira) becauſe you ſeem unto her to be ſo affectionate unto my ſervice. Yours Madam? replyed he preſently. Yes mine, replyed ſhe, and conſider with your ſelf whether or no you will continue it any longer, for this is it which does ſo much diſpleaſe her. Oh Madam, cryed he, if her diſpleaſure proceed from thence, I ſhall continue it as long as I live. Why, ſaid ſhe, had you rather diſpleaſe her, then leave my ſervice? Madam, anſwered he, will you pleaſe I ſhould tell you the truth? Yes (anſwered ſhe) and tell me truly. If I do not (ſaid he) may the Sun never ſhine upon me, and may I be odious unto all the earth. Upon this aſſurance (replyed the Princeſs) I will believe you. I do ſwear and vow Madam (anſwered he) that though all the Powers in the world ſhould command me to quit your ſervice, I ſhould be diſobedient: Nay more, I ſhould not think my ſelf too blame in ſuch diſobedience: For ever ſince that day the King, your Father, devoted me unto you, I have ſo ratified the donation, that I ſwear by all the Gods, I will never depart from your ſervice. But (ſaid Roſanira) were you not at the ſame time given unto my Siſter as well as me? No Madam (anſwered he) for the King only gave me unto her, but both the King and my own conſent did give me unto you. But yet (ſaid Roſanira, and ſmiled) ſhe pretends to have as much right unto you as I; yet ſince I ſee your inclination, I will beſeech the King to beſtow ſome other upon my Siſter, and let you be wholly mine. To make me become wholly yours Madam (replyed he) reſts wholly in your own will, and though the favour you would do me in asking me of the King, be one of the greateſt you can do me, yet I moſt humbly beſeech you not to ſpeak unto him about it, for it may procure me ſo much ill will from my Lady, your Siſter, as I am afraid the King ſhould remove me from her ſervice, and yours alſo. Say he ſhould, (replyed Roſanira) would you continue ſerving me? Nay Madam (anſwered he) [Page] both alive and dead, that reſolution ſhall never alter. But ſay I would have it for (ſaid ſhe) would you diſobey me? If your Will Madam (replyed he) were ſtronger then Deſtiny, you might do what you pleaſed; but ſince it is not, moſt certainly you would be diſobeyed in that. Then (replyed the Princeſs) you ſhall never by my conſent leave my ſervice. Upon this, fearing leſt her Siſter, or ſome other ſhould come in upon them ſhe retired, giving him a gentle blow with her hand upon his cheek, as a gage of that promiſe which ſhe had made unto him; with which he was ſo well ſatisfied, that he was highly contented with his fortune: And as he increaſed in age, he encreaſed alſo in affection; of which, the vertues of the Princeſs: and continual converſation with her, was both Mother and Nurſe; Yet knowing himſelf to be a ſlave, he durſt not preſume ſo high, as to diſcover any ſuch thing. On the other ſide, Roſanira though ſhe feigned otherwiſe, yet was ſhe not quite exempted from paſſion, yet her haughty ſpirit would not allow her to love one that was unknown; and this conſideration was a great ſtop to the growth of her affection: All the leave that ſhe gave unto her ſelf freely, was, to grieve and lament, as oft as ſhe conſidered the baſeneſs of his fortune

A little while after, the King ſeeing him to be every way very handſome, had a deſire to have him wait upon the young Ariontes, and ſo have him more in his eye: but fate which had deſigned him for other imployments, did afford him ſuch a glorious occaſion to ſhew himſelf, as the like is not upon the Theater of the whole univerſe.

The King Policander being one that did abominate all eaſe and idleneſs, did much delight in hunting: one day as he was chaſing a Hart through a thick wood, a lion ruſhed out ſo near the King, that his horſe extremely affrighted began to turn about, and ſo unhappily, that he fell backward with the pomel of the ſaddle againſt the Kings breſt: ſo as the King being under his horſe, he was not able to diſengage himſelf: The horſe was run through the body by the Kings ſword; ſo as he died preſently: the King alſo received a little wound in his thigh; all thoſe that followed the King, were ſo affrighted by this fierce beaſt, which they knew very well (being the greateſt and moſt furious of all thoſe the King kept in iron cages, and was eſcaped out) that they were all glad that their horſes were affrighted, and in lieu of holding them in, they ſpurred them away as faſt as they could: The fair ſlave only, lighting from his horſe, he ran towards the King, and in ſuch a happy nick of time, that he got between the Lion and him, when this fiery animal was with open mouth ready to devour him: but the courageous boy, without more ado, drew his ſword, and wielded it ſo happily, that he ran the Lion to the heart; but for all that, though the ſword was in the midſt of his heart; yet this furious animal in dying, did give his valiant enemy ſuch a wound upon his ſhoulder with one of his claws, as might very well have diſpatched him. At the firſt, the fair ſlave ſtaggered, and afterwards fell, ſome five or ſix paces diſtant from his dead enemy: but though his wound was great, and his fall violent; yet, half aſtoniſhed, he preſently got up again and ran betwixt the King and the Lion, apprehending him ſtill alive: He ſtayed ſo a while, and ſeeing the furious animal now tame enough, he run to help the King, who was ſtriving to get himſelf from under his horſe, and with much ado, he helped him up; but when he ſpied the bloud to run from the Kings thigh: O Sir, ſaid he, you are wounded and with tears in his eyes would have held him up. Policander, who had more courage then to be daunted at any dangers, did admire the valour and affection of this young boy: fair ſlave (ſaid he, and embraced him) thou haſt not this day imployed thy courage for an ungrateful maſter: and till a better occaſion offer it ſelf, ask what thou wilt, and I ſwear by my fathers ſoul it ſhall not be denied. The ſlave kneeled down, Sir, ſaid he unto him, it is your own goodneſs to acccept of this ſervice which I have done you: but alas Sir, both this, and all that I am able to do, are but tributes of that ſeruice which I ow, and I dare not pretend unto any recompence: An act ſo generous as this, replied the King, argues the height of merit, and cannot be equall'd by any recompence, and therefore I command thee to aſk ſomething that may argue me not ungrateful. Sir, replied he, the gods do not meaſure they benefits the beſtow upon us, according to our merits, but their own [Page] good will and pleaſure: and knowing that in this you are pleaſed to imitate them, I dare preſume, ſince you command me to ask of you, that which is moſt dear unto me, and that is, my liberty; not that I deſire ever to be out of the honour of your commands; but to teſtifie unto you for the future, that it is my own free will and deſire to ſerve you as long as I live. The King, who thought he would have asked ſome great ſumm of money, or other matter of profit, did ſtill more and more admire the Generoſity and Magnanimity of his courage, and embracing him again, yes (ſaid he) your requeſt is granted, you are from this hour free, and in teſtimony of it, you ſhall receive the honour of knighthood as ſoon as we are returned unto Avarick: and though in any other, your age would not permit it (for he was then not above eighteen) yet in you, your courage and fortune requires it.

In the mean time, moſt of thoſe that ran away for fear returned, and finding the Lion dead, they were aſhamed that ſo young a boy ſhould have more courage and reſolution then themſelves, and durſt hardly look the King in his face: but when they ſaw what extraordinary favours the King did unto him, then every one ſwelled with envy; for noble actions does cauſe envy in the ſouls of baſe people, and emulation in [...]enerous ſpirits.

The King, who deſired only to invite others unto well doing, by the example of this valiant youth, as ſoon as he came into Averick, he made this ſlave a Knight: and although their wounds would not give them leave to uſe much ceremony: yet would he needs have the Princeſſes Cephiſe and Roſanira, with all the Ladies, to be preſent. He himſelf put on his ſpurrs, and girt him with a ſword, and kiſſing him, commanded the Princeſs Roſanira to do the like, which ſhe did with much willingneſs and contentment; when all Ceremonies were performed, the King addreſſed himſelf unto him and ſaid, Cavalier, I do pronounce you free, and would have all eſteem you ſo: Alſo, ſince your merits do claim a better name then that of ſlave, I do ordain it ſhall be changed, and hereafter to preſerve the memory of your brave Act in killing a Lion, be called Roſilion, and Roſanirus Cavalier: This title will oblige both my daughter and me to remember our engagements unto you.

The joyes and thanks of the new Roſilion were great, but not greater then thoſe of the Princeſs: after he had humbly kiſſed the Kings hands, he did the ſame unto that Princeſs, with a thouſand proteſtations of eternal ſervice; the expreſſions of which had not ended ſo ſoon, if his wounds in his ſhoulder had not conſtrained him to bed, and to keep it for ſome dayes. The Princeſe had much ado to hide her exceſſive contentment to ſee him made free, for an act ſo noble: and to give him ſome private knowledge of it, ſhe wrote this Letter unto him.

The Princeſs ROSANIRAS Letter unto ROSILION.

YOur courage is victorius and can conquer Fortune, ſince it has ſo generouſly reſtored that unto you, which ſhe moſt unjuſtly detained from you, I would not have your virtue make a ſtop here, but would have you lift up your eyes unto ſomthing that is above you: Hope well (for I would have you do ſo) and I will hope as well as you.

When ſhe had done, ſhe knew not which way to convey it unto him; but at laſt, hearing that his wound bled ſtill, and they could not ſtop it, ſhe ſent it unto him, under the notion of a medecine to ſtench blood, lapt up in a little tafaty; ſuppoſing he would be ſo inquiſitive as to ſee what was in it, and it happened as ſhe ſuppoſed; for Roſilion receiving it with all the honour and thanks that ſuch a favour could deſerve, at firſt he hung it about his neck thinking it to be a real receipt. But in the morning when he was awake, and thinking upon the favour [Page] which the Princeſs had done him, he had a deſire to ſee what was in the Taffaty, in a conceit, that the Receipt was writ by the fair hand of his adored Roſanira, which treaſure he ſhould eſteem as dear as his life; he took it then from his neck, and opening it, he found the Letter, which he read; then he kiſſed it, with ſuch raptures of joy and admiration, that his wounds began to bleed a freſh; and had not the man who waited upon him, heard him ſigh, this accident doubtleſs had done him much harm, before any notice could have been taken of it. But the man being very careful of his maſter, ran preſently to his Bed, and ſeeing his complexion changed, he asked him how he did? Friend (ſaid he unto him) help me a little to put this on, which I have in my hand; for it is the Receipt which the Princeſs ſent me to ſtop blood, and which I would needs ſee: but I no ſooner took it from about My Neck, then my wound began to bleed: Alas Sir (ſaid the man) I have oft heard ſay, that ſuch things ought not to be ſeen; for if they be, they preſently loſe their vertue; and if you have read it, expect no good from it. I did read it indeed (ſaid Roſilion) little thinking that ſuch a thing could take away its ſtrength: Upon this he kiſſed it, and put it about his neck again; which done, he perceived the blood to run ſtill: Friend (ſaid he) thou toldeſt me right; the Receipt has loſt its vertue: run therefore, and call ſome to apply another remedy.

Whilſt the Phyſicians and Chyrurgions were applying ſome powder of his hair burned, and ſome other reſtringent things; Roſilion, whoſe mind ran more upon the wound of his heart, then that of his ſhoulder, did think this accident to be a very good occaſion of thanking the Princeſs for the extraordinary favour which ſhe had done him, thinking it to be infinitely beyond his merits: and retaining this thought in his memory, till every one was retired, he called for Ink and Paper, and writ what love did dictate unto him: afterwards lapping it up in the ſame form that Roſaniras Receipt was, and taking the other out of the Taffaty, he put this in the room of it. After he had lapped it up, he bade Meriſin (ſo was the man called that waited upon him) to go unto the Princeſs, and thank her for the great care ſhe was pleaſed to have of him in ſending that Receipt: but his curioſity was ſuch, that thinking he had been cured, he read it, and then his wound began preſently to bleed again: That he knew no better remedy for his diſeaſe then that Receipt, and moſt humbly beſeech her to ſend him another, in lieu of that which he returned back: Meriſin was diligent and faithful in delivery of his meſſage: and though the Princeſs did very well underſtand the meaning of Roſilion, yet the durſt not to take any notice of it: But taking the Taffaty; Friend (ſaid ſhe unto him) tell your maſter he was too inquiſitive; he ſhould have been contented with the good which the Receipt would have done him, without deſires of knowing what it was: tell him I will make him the ſame Receipt, but bid him take heed of ſuffering it to be ſeen; for if he do, it may much prejudice him.

Then going into her Cloſet, and ſhutting the door, ſhe was long in debate with her ſelf, whether ſhe ſhould read what ſhe doubted he had written, thinking it ſomtimes a diſhonour unto her ſelf to love: Roſilion conſidering the condition wherein he was when firſt he came into her ſervice; but preſently beginning to flatter her paſſion; and who can blame me (ſaid ſhe) for loving him that ſaved the life of the King my father? 'tis true, that fortune conducted him hither without Liberty; but being as it were in his cradle, the greateſt King upon earth cannot defend himſelf againſt ſuch an accident. To be the firſt whom Fortune was pleaſed to ſpit her venome at? Surely paſt ages can furniſh out with examples of the like: and perhaps we may meet with a great abundance of that deplorable number, and never go out of Gaul; but very few, who by their valour, could recover their loſt liberty, as Roſilion hath done. Then looking upon the Taffaty, but who can tell (ſaid ſhe) that I do love him, but himſelf? If he is of ſo baſe an extract as he is eſteemed, he never dare be ſo bold as to think of any ſuch affection▪ and much leſs to publiſh it: and if his birth be as high as his actions and courage, who can blame me if I ſuffer him to love me? But whoſoever he be, the very truth is, I do love him, and have already hinted as much unto him: Why then ſhould I not read his anſwer? The worſt is, if it do contain more then does become him, I will ſend him a blank paper by way of Reply, in lieu of that which he hath writ unto me.

[Page]Upon this ſhe took a pair of Sciſſars, and with a trembling hand began to open the Taffaty, and found a paper which contained theſe words.

The Anſwer of ROSILION unto the Princcſs ROSANIRA.

YES, My Faireſt Princeſs, I will hope, ſince you command me, But what is it you are pleaſed I ſhould hope for? Oh that it were the honour of your Favour; which Favour would raiſe me above all the good fortunes of men, and would ſurpaſs all the merits of humanes: But it is abſolutely impoſſible for me to give thanks equal unto ſuch ſuperlative benefits.

She bluſhed extreamly when ſhe read this Letter, and yet ſhe could not chuſe but like it; thinking that if he were too bold, it was ſhe that taught him to commit the fault, and therefore eaſily excuſed him: and leſt Meriſin, or thoſe that waited in the anti-chamber, ſhould enter into any ſuſpition, ſhe writ back this anſwer.

The Princeſs ROSANIRAS Reply unto ROSILION.

PErſevere ſtill, and hope for that which will afford you moſt contentment, for in doing ſo, you do but as you are allowed: But remember, that Fidelity, Diſcretion, and Silence, are the Victimes which ought to be offered upon thoſe Altars, on which you will ſacrifice.

Thus lapping up theſe ſhort lines with more care then did the firſt, ſhe called for one of her women, and commanded her to give that Receipt unto Meriſin, to carry ſpeedily unto his maſter, and to tell him, that if he looked in it this time, let him never hope for any more. Roſilion underſtood very well what the Princeſs meant, when Meriſin delivered his meſſage; yet he had ſuch a longing deſire to ſee what anſwer ſhe returned, that he was all impatience to be alone, that he might kiſs that happy Paper, when he received it, there was much company with him, for he was very well beloved, and a Favourite is always followed by many of thoſe flies which uſe to fly away as ſoon as any misfortune comes; ſo as to be handſomly rid of them, he ſeemed deſirous to take his reſt, and commanded Meriſin to leave him alone, and not to come into his chamber till he called for him: When he was alone, he took the Taffaty, and after a thouſand kiſſes, he read the Princeſs Letter, with ſuch an exceſs of joy and contentment, as he was hardly able to contain it within the narrow compaſs of his ſoul; but when he was a little cooler, and had long looked upon this paper, he remembred that many people were preſent in the chamber when Meriſin delivered his meſſage unto him, and eſpecially an old Cavalier, whom the King had ſent unto him, and who without all doubt would make relation of it unto the King again, which might move ſome, or perhaps the King himſelf, out of curioſity, to ſee this Receipt: He took out that therefore which the Princeſs had written, and placed in lieu of it another paper, scribled over with a few odd Characters, ſuch as his pen did drop at random, and hung it about his neck, as he did the Letter: And happy it was he did ſo; for the King being deſirous that every one ſhould know how much he eſteemed Roſilion, [Page] to the end all the Court might imitate him, he himſelf would needs go viſit him, as ſoon as the wound in his thigh would permit him, and carried with him the two Princeſſes, Cephiſe, and Roſanira, telling them, that the great generoſity of that Cavalier, and the good ſervice which he had done him, did very well deſerve their extraordinary care of him.

Though this unexpected viſit of the King did ſurprize him, yet the ſight of the Princeſs Roſanira was the height of contentment unto him; and ſuch, as not knowing what thanks to return for ſuch an unaccuſtomed favour, he could not find words to expreſs his reſentments of it. Policander came up to him, took his hand, asked him how he did, and whether the Receipt which his daughter had ſent him, had done him any good? Very much Sir, anſwered he, and ſo much, that I think I do owe my life unto it. 'Tis very well, anſwered the King, for both ſhe and I are obliged to have a care of your recovery. But Daughter (ſaid he, and turned towards the Princeſs) pray tell me who gave you this Receipt? Sir (anſwered Roſanira, and was a little ſurprized) it is ſo long ſince I firſt had it, that truly I have forgotten who gave it unto me; but I do very well remember, that whoſoever it was, he told me that it would not fail: yet having no experience of it, I laid it up, and made no reckoning of it. The King then turning towards Roſilion, I believe (ſaid he) that this which you wear about your neck is the Receipt: It is Sir, (anſwered he) and ſince I found ſo much benefit by it, I would not leave it off. Policander very deſirous to know what it was, did take it from his neck, and would have opened it. But the Princeſs who trembled for fear of diſcovery, did preſently lay her hand upon it, and would not let him. Sir (ſaid ſhe) if you do ſee what it is, it will be unprofitable to Roſilion: And did not you ſee it? (anſwered he.) I did (replyed ſhe) but it was, becauſe otherwiſe I could not make it: yet if any other ſee it, the vertue of it is loſt. Theſe ſuperſtitions (ſaid Policander) are to be obſerved by little children, and their Nurſes: and to tell you truly, I have known ſo many of theſe kind of Receipts, which never wrought any effect, that I will ſee what this is: Then calling for a pair of ſciſſars, he opened the Taffaty, and took out the paper. Judge Madam, in what a perplexity Roſanira was; ſhe was indeed more dead then alive, and could not deviſe what excuſe ſhe could uſe to cover the crime which ſhe had committed; yet when ſhe ſaw it was not the ſame paper which ſhe had written, ſhe took a little heart: but ſhe was preſently ſurprized with a ſecond fear, not inferiour to the firſt; for ſhe thought it to be ſome reply which Roſilion intended to ſend: but caſting her eye upon him, ſhe ſaw him ſmile, which gave her ſome courage; and more when ſhe obſerved that nothing but Cyphers and Figures were in the paper: Oh how glad ſhe was, and how ſhe applauded the prudence of him, whom a little before ſhe condemned, for ſuffering it ſo eaſily to be ſeen, when it ſo nearly concerned his life. What Daughter (ſaid he, and was aſtoniſhed, after he had a while conſidered it) does your Receipt conſiſt of nothing but ſuch odd Characters and ſcriblings as this? You ſee Sir (ſaid ſhe and ſmiled) all there is. I hope then (ſaid the King and laughed) that it will cure me, if I be ill: Then lapping up the paper as it was, he put it himſelf about Roſilions neck, who kiſſing his hand, aſſured him, that he had received ſo much good from it, that he would keep it moſt carefully as long as he lived. But (ſaid the Princeſs) it will not now do you any good, becauſe it hath been ſeen: I believe Madam (ſaid he) that if I do not ſee it my ſelf, it will retain its vigour: for you ſee, that though the King have looked upon it, yet I do not bleed again, as I did before. I am glad of it (anſwered Roſanira) becauſe I cannot make it any more; for the condition of the Receipt is ſuch, that it cannot be made above twice for one perſon. Roſilion did very well underſtand ſhe meant, that he ſhould write no more this way: and yet he could not chuſe but anſwer her; 'tis hard the favours which we receive from the Gods, ſhould be always ſo conditioned, that we can enjoy them but a while. The favours of the Gods (replyed ſhe) ought to be deſired no further then in caſes of neceſſity; and we ought not to grumble, becauſe we have them not in abundance. The King did hear theſe words and Cephiſe alſo, but underſtood them not: ſo preſently after he retired, and commanded all thoſe that were about Roſilion, to have as great a care of him, as if he were the [Page] Prince Ariontes his Son; and by fortune, as the King went out, the Prince came in, who meeting his Siſters going away, he carried them back for company, which pleaſed Policander very well; for he was deſirous all manner of favours ſhould be ſhewed unto this Cavalier, to invite others to follow his example in valour.

Roſilion received the Prince with all due reſpects; and after he had kiſſed his hand for ſo great a favour, Sir (ſaid he unto him) the honour you are pleaſed this day to confer upon me, is ſo great, as makes me aſhamed of my little merit: But ſince he is not ungrateful, who though unable to ſatisfie as he ought, yet ſtrives to do all he can, ſo I aſſure the Prince Ariontes, that for theſe extraordinary favours, Roſilian ſhall never be branded with that odious name, ſince I do from this very day dedicate all the days of my life, not to exonerate my ſelf of this debt, becauſe it is impoſſible, but in doing you all the ſervices that a man can do unto his Maſter and Lord. Roſilion (anſwered the Prince) your blood employed in the preſervation of the King my father, can never be fully recompenced, as well for the generoſity wherewith you ſpilt it, as for the great ſervice you have done, and the whole State in it; aſſure your ſelf that it ſhall never be forgot. And becauſe he would have replyed, and the Prince not pleaſed to uſe more words of ceremony, he interrupted him, and embracing him, ſaid; you may (Roſilion) overcome me in good language, but never in teſtimonies of affection: And going to a Chyrurgion who ſtood at the Beds feet, he expoſtulated with him concerning the ſtate of his health, and whether his wound was dangerous, whilſt Cephiſe and Roſanira ſtaying with him, did hinder one another: for (if I be not much miſtaken) Cephiſe loved him as well as Roſanira; but becauſe ſhe always ſaw he had a greater inclination to her Siſter, ſhe durſt not ſhew it; and Roſanira (who ſaw it) did keep the matter as ſecret from her, as from any other: As theſe two Siſters were ſitting ſilently for fear of one another, Ariontes called Cephiſe, to ſhew unto her the terrible claws of the Lyon, which had wounded Roſilion, which indeed were as ſharp as any needles; ſo Roſanira remaining alone with him, and Roſilion to acknowledge his extream obligations. Oh God, Madam (ſaid he unto her) when will Fortune give me leave to employ this life which you have preſerved, in your ſervice? If you think you are obliged to me (ſaid ſhe) for the Receipt which I ſent you, I do acquit you of it, and think my ſelf very well paid by what you have done in lieu of it; aſſuring you, that I was never in my life ſo affrighted, as when the King was ſo impertinently deſirous to ſee it. You might very well think Madam (ſaid Roſilion) that if your Receipt had been there, I would ſooner have loſt my life, then ſuffer a ſight of it. But Madam (continued he) I moſt humbly beſeech you to ordain the way, in which it is your pleaſure I ſhould behave my ſelf. You may find thoſe directions (ſaid ſhe) in the laſt Receipt: ſhe returned this anſwer in haſte, becauſe ſhe ſaw the Prince and Cephiſe returning: and the better to diſſemble it, as they came, ſhe went to ſee the Lyon, which (though dead) was a moſt dreadful ſight. Preſently after, taking his leave, they both followed him, and the Princeſs had no conveniency of talk with Roſilion.

But Madam, I am afraid I ſhall be too tedious in relation of all the ſucceſs: but I thought it neceſſary to acquaint you with the beginning of Roſaniras and Roſilions love; for indeed they did already love each other, though they durſt not tell it, but ſtill were in hopes, that hereafter the fortune and valour of this Cavalier, might haply be ſuch, as they might marry. And in the mean time, the wound of Roſilion cauſing him to keep his Bed a long while, did give Roſanira an opportunity of longer diſcourſe with him; For Cephiſe buſying her ſelf with looking upon ſome Pictures, ſhe left her alone with him; and Roſilion not to let ſuch an opportunity ſlip: Madam (ſaid he) if my tongue durſt utter any complaint againſt you, or my ſoul conſent unto it, I think I ſhould be a little angry with my Faireſt Princeſs. Take heed Roſilion (anſwered ſhe) your anger be not without a cauſe; for if you do well conſider my Receipt, certainly you will confeſs that it was beyond your deſires, at leaſt your hopes: But I muſt confeſs, that in this I was a little too free, and perhaps had I well conſidered with my ſelf, I had not ſent it, ſince men are of ſuch a temper, that they muſt not be too far acquainted with our good wills unto them: for they are all apt to be tranſported with too much [Page] vanity, or contentment, and to fancy many things that were never thought upon, drawing concluſions from thence that are very diſadvantageous to us.

Is it your pleaſure Madam, replied Roſilion, I ſhould think that the favours you have conferred upon me, were done without your conſideration? No, ſaid Roſanira, but on the contrary, I would have you know that if I had not done as I did, I ſhould have blamed my ſelf; but I ſay, that it was done without any debate with my ſelf, for I was ſo tranſported with joy, to hear that the King was delivered from ſo great a danger, and that it was by the valour of Roſilion, as without any conſult I ſuffered my hand to intimate my joyes unto you Then Madam, replied Roſilion, ſhould thoſe expreſſions which you are pleaſed infinitly beyond my merit to make, work in me any of thoſe effects you mention, I ſhould think my ſelf the moſt unworthy man that ever lived upon the earth: but Madam, I did not draw any ſuch conſequencies or hopes as you are pleaſed to ſay, from them; nay, on the contrary, your favour, ſo far from my expectation or hopes, was like the ſplendour of the Sun, which ſo dazled my eyes and my ſoul, that I knew not what to think, nor what to hope, nor what to ſay, ſo infinitly they were above all my thoughts, my hopes, and my deſerts. As for the anger which I mentioned againſt you, it was only, becauſe being ſo entirely yours, methought you did me wrong in not commanding me any thing in your ſervice. Roſilion, replied the Princeſs, the value which I find to be in you, and the affection which you ſeem to have unto me, together with your diſcreet carriage of it, hath moved me to love you. Your unknown extraction does much trouble me; but I wiſh your valour may make you ſo known unto all, that it may be no reproach unto me when it is known that Roſanira loves you. Draw from hence all the moſt favourable conſequences you can to content you, for I will not forbid you one, only remember the victimes which ought to be offered in this ſacrifice, as formerly I writ unto you.

Madam (ſaid Roſilion tranſported with joy) if I durſt throw my ſelf at your feet by way of gratitude, I would, as the moſt obliged man living: but I know ſuch expreſſions, before ſo many witneſſes, would diſpleaſe you; only I ſay, that words being too weak to do it, I ſhall with extream deſire wait for the honour of your commands, to teſtifie my obedience, that as there is none living more worthy to be loved, or rather adored, then the fair Roſanira, nor any heart more devoted to adore her then Roſilions, ſo there is nothing ſo difficult which I would not think eaſie in your ſervice. As for the unknown place of my birth which, and with reaſon does ſo much diſpleaſe you, I beſeech you be pleaſed, as ſoon as my wounds are healed, I may as a wandering Cavalier ſee out the place, or elſe die in the queſt; or at leaſt, till the unknown place of my birth at my return, be no reproach unto you or him.

How? replied the Princeſs, do you ask if it will pleaſe me? Be aſſured Roſilion, if you do otherwiſe, you will extreamly diſoblige me.

This diſcourſe was a cauſe, that as ſoon as Roſilion was recovered, which was not many dayes, he beſeeched the King to give him leave, as a Cavalier errant, to go and ſeek adventures, according to the cuſtome which the famous King Arthur eſtabliſhed in great Brittain, that ſo he might better inable himſelf to do him ſervice: The King, though with much regret, conſented, but upon condition he would return as ſoon as poſſible. I need not relate the diſcourſe betwixt the Princeſs and Roſilion at his departure: for Madam, you may imagine it to be ſuch, as lovers before a long ſeparation and an uncertain return would uſe. But Roſinara, as ſoon almoſt as he was departed, received great conſolation by the fame of many noble exploits, which he atchieved in all countreys he came into; for his Acts and his Glory, was all the diſcourſe at all aſſemblies of Ladies and Cavaliers.

Whilſt Policander & the Princeſſes lived thus, the King of Picts groaning under a great age, & after a long languiſhing in bed, did at laſt pay that tribute which is due unto nature from mortal men: and as if Fortune would have us ſhed our tears for ſeveral ſubjects at the ſame time, the grave was no ſooner ſhut for him, [Page] but it was opened for the King of the Santons, which indeed were greifs unto the Queen Argira, but with one conſideration that was no ſmall conſolation unto her, thinking that ſurely now Policander would make good his promiſe: for by Fortune, a little before his mother died, ſo as being now both at liberty, it was likely he would give all ſatisfaction deſireable. But O, how much miſtaken are the hopes of love, eſpecially when they are exſpected from ſuch men who look only after their preſent intereſts: heretofore, I do believe, that if it had been in the power of Policander to have diſpoſed of himſelf, he would have ſatisfied his promiſe; but ſince the welfare of his affairs and dominions had conſtrained him to marry Cloriſina, he did ſo forget all his relations to the kingdome of the Picts, that he did not ſo much as remember the very name of Argira. But now to leave him without excuſe, and that there might be no faillure on her ſide, though ſince the aſſiſtance ſent againſt him to the Prince Archimbant, there was no good correſpondency betwixt us, yet when Cloriſina died, Argira ſent to condole with him, and to acquaint him with the King of the Santons death, intimating a kind of Summons to ſatisfie his former promiſe: His anſwer was indeed full of civility and courteſie, but ſo empty of all love, as the leaſt ſpark of ſuch a flame did not appear in it,

The Queen did believe (for ſhe was apt to flatter her ſelf in it) that perhaps he was unwilling to diſcover himſelf unto her Ambaſſadour which ſhe had ſent unto him, he being a perſon with whom he never had any familiarity; and ſo ſhe did attribute that unto prudence which indeed was defect and want of affection, as afterwards ſhe found when ſhe ſent this Letter ſecretly unto him.

The Queen ARGIRAS Letter unto King POLICANDER.

ALL promiſes are certainly due debts, and if ſo, remember what you ow unto her that now writes unto you: he is a very bad paymaſter that never payes what is due, eſpecially when nothing but will is wanting to cancel the obligation; and there can be nothing to hinder me from that ſatisfaction which is my due, but only want of will in you. The gods are witneſses unto your promiſes, to them I appeal, and defore them I ſummon you to give me ſatisfaction.

To which Letter, he returned this anſwer.

King POLICANDERS Anſwer unto the Queen ARGIRA.

PRomiſes that are made, and afterwards revoked by conſent of parties, become null: And we ought not to eſteem the reſt of thoſe who loved us, ſo little, as to diſturb them in their graves, by the diſpleaſure of ſeeing us in the poſſeſsion of another. This conſideration, together with the good and welfare of my Eſtates, makes me reſolve to paſs away the reſt of my dayes in ſolitude, as moſt pleaſing unto the gods to which you appeal.

Then giving this Letter unto him who brought the other; Friend (ſaid he unto him) aſſure the Queen, thy miſtreſs, that I ſhall alwayes live her ſervant, but I cannot poſſibly think upon any ſecond marriage. Grief for the loſſes which ſhe and I have had ſhould take our thoughts off any ſuch things: The affection which [Page] we do ow unto thoſe children which the gods have given us, ſhould wain our wills: and it were a kind of cruelty to add more brothers unto them, who would ſhare with them in eſtate; beſide, the age which ſhe and I are of, is a ſufficient priviledge unto us from any ſuch treaties: Aged matrimony is out of ſeaſon, and fit only for ſuch as are green. and in the vigour of their age, not gray, and ready to drag into their graves. This anſwer and meſſage, which was no better then a reproach, did make a deep wound in the ſoul of the Queen, who ever had entertained a moſt zealous affection unto Policander: but this did blaſt all her hopes, and made good the old Proverb, that from great love proceeds great hatred. For ſhe conceived ſo great a hatred of him, that ſhe did abhorre the very name of Policander and all his: and as ſhe did for his ſake love the ſon which ſhe had by him, better then the ſon of the King her husband, ſo now ſhe changed her mind, and wiſhed he had never been born, for ſhe never looked upon him, but ſhe thought ſhe ſaw the ingratitude of his father imprinted in his face. Now did ſhe heartily repent ſhe ever put him in the place of him of whom he bore the name, thinking it a moſt juſt judgement of the gods upon her for that impoſture. This regret went ſo near her heart, that ſhe ſent unto the Port of the Santons to enquire of the right Celiodantes: but ſhe heard that he was long ſince carried away by certain Pirates, and his father alſo (for ſo was Verances eſteemed) and that his mother was loſt, at leaſt never ſeen ſince in thoſe parts. This news which took from her the foundation of her intended revenge, did more aggravate her displeaſure, and blew it up to ſuch a height, that ſhe reſolved to make Policander and her ſelf a moſt notable example unto future ages, for all ſuch as ſhould run the ſame fortune.

The ſuppoſed Celiodantes was then about the twentieth year of his age, and by the indulgent care of the King of Santons and Argira, accompliſhed with all the excellent qualities of a great Prince. He was every way ſo compleated both in parts of body and mind, that though he had not been the ſon of a King; yet was he worthy of a Monarchy. But as formerly ſhe looked upon him with the eyes of love, as Policanders ſon, ſo now ſhe lookt upon him with thoſe of hatred and revenge: ſhe was long in debate with her ſelf, before ſhe could reſolve what way of revenge ſhe ſhould take; at laſt ſhe made choiſe of the greateſt that then preſented it ſelf before her eyes.

The King of the Cenomanes had ſome variance with the King of the Turonians: and commonly arms being alwayes judges between ſuch perſons, and the ſword the beſt Juſtice, both of them begun to Levy men, and liſt Souldiers and Commanders. The King of the Rhedonians and Condates, as allies unto the Cenomances came preſently to their aide. The King of Venetes and Darioriques, having married the ſiſter of the Turonian King, came almoſt uncalled with all his forces to the aſſiſtance of his brother in law: ſo as theſe two Kingdomes were like to be the Theaters of many cruel and bloody Tragedies, when by the advice of theſe four Kings, Celiodantes was choſen to be the Arbitratour of their differences. Though his young experience in ſuch weighty matters, might make him ſeem unfit for ſuch an undertaking; yet the wiſdome, Prudence and Juſtice had already wrought ſuch incredible effects, in all his other actions, as got him ſo great a repute that by the a common conſent, they referred themſelves unto his arbitriment and doom, and ſuſpending arms and actions of hoſtility for a time, they waited for his Judgement. This happened to be at the ſame time when the Queen Argiras anger was hotteſt againſt Policander. As fortune was, the two Kings of the Armorique Cities were deadly enemies unto Policander, becauſe when they were young, he aſſiſted Suenon the good Duke againſt them, under the notion of a Knight errant, and had cauſed them to loſe ſome certain terrritories, of which they had been long Poſſeſſours. On the other ſide, the King of the Cenomanes and the King of the Turonians, loved Policander no better then they, becauſe his miniſters had confiſcated ſome boats upon the river Loyre, loadned with arms, becauſe they had not a ſafe conduct.

This offence though but ſmall, yet was ſo freſh, that it ſought for revenge. Argira thought then, that if Celiodantes did compoſe all matters between theſe Kings, he [Page] might eaſily move them both againſt Policander, as well to ſatisfie his requeſt us to be revenged for their particular injuries.

All the difficulty was to find a good colour of warre for Celiodantes, which ſhe could hardly do, for Policander, though a neighbour, had carried himſelf ſo free from any offence, as he took away all occaſions of complaint: yet hoping that time might perhaps afford one, that which ſhe recommended moſt unto the Prince her ſon, and to thoſe whom ſhe had imployed to councel him, was to make a peace betwixt theſe Kings, and to conſider, that the beſt warre, was not ſo good as the worſt peace: and that the fire of diſſention being ſo near them, ſome ſparks might fly into their own houſes: briefly, ſhe ſo inſtructed them, that a Peace was made, and ſo as gave full ſatisfaction to all parties, each in particular thinking the advantage to be on their ſide. This did oblige them ſo deeply unto Celiodantes, and got him ſo high a repute, that all of them deſiring before they parted to make a firm alliance, they choſe him to be their general in caſe they aſſembled any forces together: An honour indeed ſo high, and unhop'd for, he being ſo young, as in all likelyhood he would have been the luſt that ſhould have been choſen for ſuch a dignity.

But ſee Madam, how fatally-unavoidable ſome things are, the Queen was ſeeking out for a colour of complaint againſt Policander, and could not find it, when by Fortune ſome of the officers of Celiodantes purſuing ſome pilfering robbers that fled into Policanders dominions, the people of the town and ſome ſouldiers to maintain their Priviledges, did not only receive theſe thieves, but killed a great number of his men, and took all priſoners, but ſuch as ſaved themſelves by flight.

This news being brought unto the Queen, ſhe thought it a very good pretence, and ſuch an offence as ſhe ſought after. And becauſe ſhe was ſure, that if ſhe made complaint unto Policander, he would give her ſatisfaction, therefore ſhe ſaid nothing, but ſent ſome ſouldiers immediatly to ſack the place, and uſe all manner of hoſtility: but in lieu of revenging the firſt injury, it did but beget a ſecond; for thoſe that went found ſuch hot entertainment, that the Commanders hardly eſcaped with their lives after the loſs of moſt of their men: Argira was ſorry for their loſs, but ſhe was well contented to have ſuch a colour to move thoſe Kings to revenge the injury which ſhe ſaid Celiodantes had received whilſt he was out of his Dominions. And in order to this, ſhe preſently diſpatched ſuch a meſſenger, as ſhe thought moſt fit to aggravate this offence, and move thoſe Kings unto anger: and certainly he did negotiate according to her deſires, for he uſed all manner of arts and arguments to exaſperate thoſe Kings, and prompt them to revenge: all who remembring their particular injuries which they had received, and finding arms ready in their hands, they all agreed without more delay, to fall into the Dominions of King Policander, whom they found ſleeping in a dull ſecurity all unarmed, and never dreaming of ſuch an unexpected invaſion. A long and drowſie peace had ſo lulled him aſleep, that he had loſt all his old ſouldiers, and he knew not where to get new ones: beſides, the people were all ſo drowned in an univerſal tranquility, that they hardly knew what a ſword was. It was an eaſie matter for Celiodantes, finding him in this condition, to foil him at every encounter.

Now the Queens deſigne was (obſerve what a ſtrange animoſity ſhe had againſt Policander) either to make the ſon kill the father in this warre, or elſe the father to kill the ſon: and though they knew not themſelves to be father and ſon, yet it was a great ſatisfaction unto her, to know that ſhe was ſo revenged. Policander did what he could in this urgent extremity, and making a virtue of neceſſity, did muſter together ſome Cavaliers, as well of his own Vaſſals as of his Allies, and took the field with the Prince Arionthes his ſon. And though he knew it was full of danger to hazard a battel; yet not being able to endure to ſee what plunder and ravage our Army made in his Dominions, although he was the weaker, yet he reſolved to venture it. I will paſſe over all the circumſtances of the battle, and only tell you that Celiodantes got the day, and Arionthes the only ſon of Policander was killed, and that the father had much ado to ſave himſelf by [Page] getting into Avarick with ſome reliques of his broken Army: but the inhabitants of that town and thoſe that fled thither, were ſo affrighted that I believe, if our Army had purſued cloſe, the gates had been opened unto them: But it was thought better to forrage the countrey for victuals, and ſo beſiege that great City, which they foreſaw would continue long, becauſe it was fortified with great ditches, Towers, and Ramparts; and becauſe of the great abundance of men, as well burgers as ſtrangers, which fled thither; but the main aim was the perſon of Policander, who againſt the opinion of his councel, would needs ſhut up himſelf in the Town, with a reſolution to be buried in the ruines of his Kingdome.

The Corps of Arionthes was found amongſt the dead, and with all honour and civility ſent unto his father, to ſhew that hatred did not go beyond life, nor that any revenge ſhould be taken of the dead. Policander received the body of his ſon with a dry eye, and ſhewed ſo much conſtancy and magnanimity in the ſad conjuncture of woes, that the virtue of this King began to melt the enraged heart of the Queen, and in ſome ſort to pity his misfortune. Come, come, Argira (ſaid ſhe unto her ſelf) canſt thou find a heart to ſee him who once loved thee, to be ſo miſerable? is the ſight of thee ſo fatal as to bring ruine upon all thoſe that look upon thee: Conſider that he whoſe Kingdome thou wouldſt now demoliſh, and whoſe life thou wouldſt have, is the ſame perſon whom once thou didſt love above all the world, and one who is the father of thy ſon: Is his fault without any excuſe? and though it be, wilt thou remember one ſingle diſpleasure, more then all the ſervices which thou haſt received from him.

Theſe conſiderations and many more ſuch like, did ſo mollifie her heart, that ſhe began to ſeek for a good pretence of letting him alone in Peace, and to withdraw our Army out of his Dominions; but not daring to declare her mind unto any, leſt ſhe ſhould offend the united Kings, ſhe laid ſiege before Avarick: her deſign was when ſhe conſented to the ſiege, to make Policander her priſoner, and then after ſhe had made him acknowledge his offence, to reſtore him unto his Crown of Kingdomes. But things fell out farre otherwiſe; for a while after, Roſilion, who was following his adventures in Germany and the Macromands, he was advertiſed by common fame how theſe Kings had invaded the King of the Boyers, and how he was blockt up in the City of Avarick, which could not long hold out.

When he firſt heard this news he could not believe it, becauſe he knew Policander to be a King of great equity and Juſtice, and would not give any of his neighbours the leaſt occaſion of warre. Yet not to ſlight it, he wended his courſe towards the Boyers and Ambaries: And by fortune, as he was going out of the Countrey of the Lepontes, he met a meſſenger which the Princeſs Roſanira had ſent unto him, who had wandered ſeveral dayes all over the Alps, after the fame of his exploits: he met with him then in this place; and becauſe Roſilion han not changed his arms, he knew him by the Lion that he wore upon his ſhield, with ſome ſtrange words which he had taken for his deviſe, which was a cauſe, that many called him the Knight of the Lion. Sir (ſaid he unto him, and preſented the Letters from Roſanira) I have been in queſt of you above this moneth, to tell you that you are extremely deſired by her that writ this Letter, and wiſh'd for by all the Boyers, as the only remedy and hopes they have in all their misfortunes, Roſilion, gave no anſwer, but opened the Letter, and found theſe words.

The Princeſs ROSANIRAS Letter unto ROSILION.

YOur victories are great, but not ſo great as our misfortunes: our Army is defeated, all the countrey undone, Arionthes dead, and Policander and Roſanira lockt up in their lost town: Iudge you whether this be not a large field in which Roſilion may imploy his Arms and his Courage.

[Page]I ſhall not need (Madam) to relate the aſtoniſhment and ſorrows of Roſilion, when he had read the Letter, and heard all the particulars from the mouth of the Meſſenger. But ſo it was, that taking the way towards the Boyens, and making all the haſte his Horſe would give him leave, he came into the Territories of King Policander, where he found many Cavaliers and Officers already aſſembled, and wanted nothing but a General whom they would obey; for the principal of the Boyens and Ambares, ſome were ſlain with the Prince Arion [...]hes, and others were ſhut up with Policander in Avaricke; ſo as theſe who wanted no good will but only a General to conduct them, received Roſilion with a common conſent, as well for the love they knew the King bore unto him, as for the brave exploits which Fame had reported of him. And though the number of theſe Cavaliers and Souldiers were not above five hundred Horſe, and three thouſand Foot, and though our Army conſiſted of above eight thouſand Horſe, and forty thouſand Foot, yet Roſilion truſting in the juſtice of Policanders cauſe, and in the good Fortune which alwaies accompanied him, he was not at all diſmayed, but came up unto us with flying colours; which did ſo encourage his own men, and ſo affright ours, as if the very name of Roſilion were enough to defeat us: His ſmal piece of an Army at every Quarter where he lodged, like a tumbling Snow-ball, grew bigger; for the whole Country flocked unto him; and as if they were already dividing our ſpoils, they made themſelves aſſured of Victory: And ſo it hapned, that by the juſt judgement of the Gods, we were defeated: I may well ſay, by the juſt judgement of God; for otherwiſe, it was not likely ſo ſmall a handful of men could ever have got the victory of ſuch an Army as ours, which had ſo many Kings, and ſo many Grandees to command it, and ſo many old experienced Souldiers accuſtomed to Combats and Battles: But the truth was, our Army was routed, yet not totally, but ſo, as we were conſtrained to raiſe the Siege, and let Roſilion enter into the Town with all his men. The careſſes of the King, the kind aſpect of Roſanira, and the joys of all the people when he came into Avaricke, cannot be expreſſed. But Policander knowing that it was requiſite to purſue an Army that fled, he went out of Avaricke in all haſte, with all thoſe whom he thought fit to be added unto the Troops of Roſilion, whom he kiſſed, and made him Lieutenant General of all his Armies, and commanding all his Subjects by Edict, to obey him. This honour ſetting an edge upon the courage of the generous Roſilion, and whetting his deſires of doing ſomthing worthy of the Reputation he had got, he purſued our ſhattered Army, and four days after overtook us at a little River, which is called Clein, where he forced our Army to face about, and give him Battel; in which we were almoſt totally defeated, with the death of the two Kings of the Turonians and Cenomanes, and to our greateſt grief, with the taking of young Celiodantes priſoner. But becauſe Roſilion was reſolved to drive the Nail to the head, he purſued on after our ſquandred Army, and ſent Celiodantes with a good guard unto Policander and the Princeſs Roſanira.

You may eaſily imagine (Madam) that the Kings joy was not a little, when he ſaw not only his Kingdoms recovered, but alſo ſo many Kings defeated, and the chief of all, his Priſoner: It was ſuch, as not knowing which way to gratifie Roſilion enough, he reſolved to make him after his deceaſe, poſſeſſor of thoſe Kingdoms which he had regained, by the marriage of Roſanira; and therefore he ſpecified as much unto him by Letter to this effect.

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King POLICANDERS Letter unto ROSILION.

WHat Gift can equal the merits of him that has ſet the Crown upon my Head, but the Crown it ſelf? Yes, I will give him more then that; For beſides all my Dominions, I will give him that which is more dear unto me, my daughter Roſanira: and therefore Roſilion, she is at this hour yours, and after my deceaſe, ſo is the Kingdoms of the Boyens, of the Ambarres, and of the Bitturiges. Haſte therefore to vanquiſh, for theſe are the Tryumphs which I prepare for you, to congratulate your Victories.

Now ſee Roſilion and Roſanira almoſt at the very top of their good Fortune: for this Cavalier did love this Princeſs with ſuch exceſs of paſſion, that he would not have lived but in hopes that Policander would beſtow her upon him: And ſhe whoſe affection was not inferiour unto his, though ſhe did more diſſemble it, hoping that Roſilion would become ſuch a one, as ſhe might take for her husband without diſhonour, ſhe ſeeing him now ſo high in the Kings eſteem, it could not chuſe but be a moſt ſingular contentment unto her. But now (Madam) you ſhall hear a very pleaſant encounter: Whilſt Roſilion after the Receipt of this Letter, was continuing his Victories, chaſing his enemies as far as the Armorique Cities, and crowning himſelf with Palms and Lawrels, Celiodantes a Priſoner in Avaricke, is treated by King Policander with ſo much civility, that going abroad where he pleaſed upon his Parole, he was permitted to ſee the Princeſs Roſanira, whoſe Beauty and Vertue did preſently convert a Priſoner of War into a Priſoner of Love: For this Princeſs had ſo many inevitable attracts, as it was almoſt impoſſible for any eye to ſee, and not adore her.

When Celiodantes was taken Priſoner, many others were taken with him; and amongſt the reſt, an old Cavalier called Orontes, who had been his Governour ever ſince he left his Nurſe. This man was very prudent and wiſe, and ſo affectionate unto the ſervice of Celiodantes, that his intereſt took the deepeſt impreſſions in his heart: On the other ſide, this young Prince knowing how affectionate he ever was unto him, did love and eſteem him very much, as he was obliged.

Some days paſſed before Celiodantes would acquaint Orontes with his paſſion, thinking this Love to be in ſuch an unſeaſonable time, as it could not chuſe but have a bad deſtiny: This ſilence cauſed the Prince to fret at heart, and his ſoul to ſwell ſo with vexatious thoughts, that his body began to fall away every day more and more; which Orontes obſerving, and thinking that this ſadneſs proceeded from his detenſion, he feared it would become prejudicial to his health: ſo as one day when he was alone in his chamber, he uſed this diſcourſe unto him.

If thoſe Sir who govern Kingdoms and Empires had any priviledge to be exempted from the blows of Fortune more then other men, I ſhould ſay you had reaſon to be troubled and grieved at the condition wherein you are: But we ſee the higheſt hills moſt ſubject to the ſtorms and winds, and not ſo ſerene as the valleys and plains; ſo as the higheſt Soveraignties are expoſed to the tempeſts of Fortune, more then the humble condition of ſubjects, what reaſon then have you to think you ſhould be exempted? And why ſhould you complain of a general Law, that is commong to all great ones? Your high Birth and Quality which elevates you above the rank of other men, may well excuſe you from petty misfortunes, and trivial calamities, which they are ſubject unto, as too inferiour and unworthy [Page] for Grandees; but great afflictions, and ſuch as are inſupportable to the common ſort of men, are proper only for Princes, and ſuch great Kings as you are; and as you would blame thoſe who faint in courage, and ſhrink under the burthen of little misfortunes, eſteeming them as effeminate and puſillaminous, ſo believe it Sir, Thoſe that ſee you with ſuch a ſad dejected countenance, and bending at the firſt blow that Fortune gives you, what will they think of you? The fidelity which I owe unto my King, and the affection which I have unto the perſon of Celiodantes, does oblige me Sir, in duty and love, moſt humbly to beſeech you, and conjure you, even by the memory of the King your Father, to rouſe up your magnanimity and courage, and to look all dangers and misfortunes bravely in the face: If you tell me the blow is great, I will anſwer, that you ought to arm your ſelf the better againſt it: For the courage of a man cannot be vanquiſhed but by its own fault, nor can any accident of Fortune ſtagger him, if his own will do not betray him, and conſent unto his defeat: Courage Sir, and rouſe up your Princely ſoul; you have before your eyes an example of unconquered vertue, as oft as you turn them upon King Policander; Did any of his defeats ever make him ſhrink? Did he droop and drown himſelf in ſorrows, when he loſt his only Son? And did his courage fail when his Kingdoms were taken from him? No, no Sir, but on the contrary, he armed himſelf againſt all the malice of Fortune, by ſuch a generous vertue, that at laſt he overcame her, and (if it may be ſo ſaid) did force her to take his part.

Orontes would have proceeded on, if the young Prince had not interrupted him: Father (ſaid he, for ſo he called him) your pains was very ill beſtowed, and both my courage and memory were very bad, if the loſs of one Battel, part of my Dominions, friends, and my liberty, ſhould make me forget thoſe ſapient documents, and wiſe inſtructions which I received from you; I would never have taken any Arms into my hands, if I had not known that all theſe accidents might fall upon me: And ſince miſeries foreſeen do leſs hurt, aſſure your ſelf that all thoſe you ſpeak of, do make no ſuch great impreſſions in me: I did, I muſt confeſs, reſent the change of my Fortune, as being ſenſible, not faint-hearted, or puſillanimous. The ſorrows you ſee in my face and actions, more then ordinary, O my dear Orontes, are cauſed by no wounds that any do know of, but by others, which none ſees but my ſelf: Upon this he groaned out a deep ſigh, and after a ſilent pauſe, he began again.

Yes, yes Father, no eyes but my own ſees the wounds whereof I complain; and though I ſee them incurable, yet ſuch is my confidence in Orontes, that I will diſcover them unto him, yet without any other hopes, but only, that he will help me to condole my misfortune.

Upon this he made a long relation of the extream affection which he bore unto the Princeſs Roſanira, the little hopes he had in the good will of that Princeſs, or in the King her Father, ſince he had been the cauſe of ſo much ſorrow unto them, eſpecially by the death of Ariontes: Now judge (continued he) whether I have not reaſon to droop, and whether it were not better for me to end my miſerable days preſently, then to groan away a life which will be ſo wretched and diſaſtrous? I know you will tell me, that Love is but folly and madneſs and that a generous ſpirit may be aſhamed to be ſurmounted by it; but Father, whether it be wiſdom or folly, commendable or ſhameful, if it be folly, I muſt confeſs my ſelf a fool; and if a generous ſpirit may be aſhamed of it, I would not be thought generous; for the fatal truth is, that I do love Roſanira, and ſo, that I muſt not love my ſelf, unleſs I love her: Doubtleſs you wili adviſe me to reſiſt this paſſion, but alas, all ſuch advice is given unto a deaf man, and to one that has not a will to be cured.

The ſage Orontes gave Celiodantes a long and patient hearing without any interruption, knowing very well that a ſick ſoul finds eaſe in emptying it ſelf unto ſome faithful friend; But when the Prince had done, he began thus.

I am very glad Sir, you have told me your ſorrows proceed from Love, eſpecially ſince your paſſion is grounded upon ſuch a worthy ſubject as the Princeſs Roſanira; for till now, I thought you had drooped under the burthen of your [Page] misfortunes, and that your injured patience had fainted at your diſaſters: But now I find your diſeaſe to be ſo eaſily cured, as I wiſh you may continue a little longer in it: for I hope this Love will be a means to re-inveſt you in your former eſtate and ſplendour. Do you think Sir, that the King Policander has forgot thoſe extremities unto which your Arms reduc'd him? and out of which, heaven has moſt miraculouſly reſcued him? Believe it Sir, though he do ſee himſelf a Conquerour, yet he knows that all his Victories and Tryumphs may turn into the ſame condition wherein he was, and that this is but an interval, and a gleam of Fortune: Do you think he knows not how momentary and uncertain they are? Yes, yes, and queſtionleſs ſo prudent a Prince will be glad to make his peace with you now he may, and not defer it till perhaps he may be forced to take up ſuch terms as ſhall pleaſe you. Aſſure your ſelf Sir, he is more wiſe then to let ſuch an opportunity ſlip. I dare be hold to ſay, this peace will be concluded, and nothing can hinder it but your own courage: This Love of yours to the Princeſs Roſanira will remove all difficulties which can be propoſed: Courage therefore Sir, and command me to negotiate the buſineſs, for I dare aſſure you upon my life, to give you all deſired contentment.

This was the anſwer of Orontes, who infuſed ſuch courage into this young Prince, that though his ſpirits were a little dulled with his hopeleſs paſſion, yet upon better conſideration, he ſaw ſome probability in the deſigne, the conduct whereof he referred wholly unto the prudent Orontes, giving him commiſſion to treat and conclude what peace he pleaſed, ſo Roſanira might be his.

Orontes, who knew he could not do more acceptable ſervice to his Maſter, nor greater advantage to the State, then to negotiate the matter, he employed the whole ſtrength of his Wit and Prudence in it: And having obſerved the ſeveral Intereſts of all thoſe about Policander, he perceived that two of the prime officers about the King, who had moſt particular acceſs to his perſon, and bore a great ſway in affairs, were very ill ſatisfied with the Kings deſign, in giving his daughter unto Roſilion, a man unknown, or at beſt, but of an ignominious extraction; and, as they ſaid, they bluſhed to think a man bought and ſold for money, ſhould ever be their Lord and King: That it was a vile blemiſh to the names of Boyens, Ambarres, and Bituriges, to make choiſe of a Slave for their Soveraign, and that he ſhould command over ſo many Provinces, and ſuch Provinces as abounded in great and noble Cavaliers, whoſe valours and courages were not inferiour to this enfranchiſed ſlave; for he was no better, though his acts were very notable. But that which moved theſe two Grandees moſt to diſlike this match, was a particular Intereſt which touched them more nearly; for each of them had a Son, and they had a ſquint eye at the ſame happineſs after the death of Policander, which they ſaw Roſilion was like to enjoy. And though both of them had the ſame deſigne, and were in the ſame hopes, and certainly had been deadly enemies unto each other, if Roſilion had not been, yet they united both againſt him, and contracted friendſhip ſo far, as to ruine their common enemy, and doubtleſs to ruine one another after if they could.

The wiſe Orontes heard of all theſe paſſages, he thought either one or both of theſe men might be made fit inſtruments for his deſigne; He addreſſed himſelf therefore unto them, he made the overture of Peace; and ſo advantagious were his propoſitions to Policander, that they embraced them, conceiving there was no better way to put Roſilion by his pretenſions then this: And though the marriage of Celiodantes did blaſt all the hopes of their own children, yet they liked better to fall into the hands of the King of Picts, who would be obliged unto them, then into the hands of Roſilion, whoſe fortune hung all at the point of his Sword. Both of them therefore receiving this overture of peace very willingly, and deſiring to promote it, they conſulted together to ſpeak unto the King, but ſeverally, to the end he might not think it a compact againſt Rosilion: And they carried it ſo prudently, and uſed ſo much artifice, that Policander after ſome kind of difficulty, by reaſon of his promiſe unto Roſilion, and after their propoſition of giving Cephiſe in lieu of Roſanira, he conſented unto it, knowing very well, that the marriage betwixt Celiodantes and Roſanira, was the only Cement of this peace, which [Page] he apprehended to be ſo advantageous to him. Sir, ſaid they unto him, We beſeech you conſider, in what condition you were not long ſince, and in what by the great mercy of God, you are in now: your prudence bids you not to loſe that good fortune which preſents it ſelf, for a few ſlight conſiderations. Never was any King of the Boyers ſo great and redoubtable as you may be, if you will conſent unto this match, adding thereby unto your own crown, beſides ſo many Alliances which the King Celiodantes will bring you, two great kingdomes which he enjoyes: All which advantages you can never pretend unto, if you give the Princeſs unto Roſilion, who though a man indeed of great merit, yet has he no eſtate but his ſword; beſides Sir, the Princes and Lords who are Subjects unto your Crown, will ſtomach more then they make appear, to be by your will ſubjected unto one who they ſaw within theſe few years a ſlave, & ſold by a Merchant. Aſſure your ſelf Sir, if you will pleaſe to honour them ſo far as to ask their opinions, they will with bonefires, and all expreſſions of joy, approve of this laſt propoſition. And as for the ſervices which Roſilion hath done unto your Crown, will he not be recompenced to the full if he be made King of the Lemovices? a ſtate ſo full of Cavaliers and great men, that there is not a Prince in all Gaul, but might [...] be contented with it. But ſay Sir this recompence ſhould not be made; ye [...] [...] he be ſo faithful and affectionate to your ſervice as you believe him, he will not look upon his own intereſts, but will be the firſt to adviſe you unto this peace upon theſe propoſitions: but if his ambition have ſo blinded his eyes as he will not ſee the good of your ſtate, Prudence Sir, will bid you look to your ſelf: for his obligations unto you are ſuch, as though he gave you his life, yet were he ſtill your debtour.

They added many other advantageous arguments to further their deſignes, and uſed ſuch Rhetorique as moved the King to follow their counſels, and he gave them commiſſion to conclude this Peace and Alliance: And at the ſame time, left Roſilion ſeeing himſelf diſappointed of his hopes, and having the command of the Army, ſhould do him any ill ſervice, he diſpatched a meſſenger to give him many thanks and commendations▪ & to command him at the ſame time to come preſently unto him, and to refer the charge of the Army unto the Marſhal of the Boyers, a man whoſe fidelity Policander could not ſuſpect.

Theſe things could not be carried ſo cloſe, but Roſanira was ſome way or other advertiſed of them, and ſhe received the news very ſadly: For ſhe loved Roſilion, and harboured at her heart a ſecret hatred againſt Celiodantes, becauſe of her brothers death, whereof ſhe ſaid him to be the Authour; ſo as not knowing any better remedy, ſhe reſolved to acquaint Roſilion with all poſſible ſpeed, to the end he might break off this pernicious deſigne, before it was fully concluded.

The meſſenger whom ſhe ſent unto him made ſuch extraordinary haſte, that he delivered Roſaniras Letter unto Roſilion two dayes before Policanders came unto him: So as if he had been ſo minded as to do the King any ill ſervice, he might eaſily have done it; but any ſuch deſigns were ſo farre from his thoughts, that on the contrary he imployed his time in making more haſte to take a Town that was beſieged, and to find out ſome handſome excuſe for quitting the Army, and taking that journey which the Princeſs commanded: And indeed he took ſuch pains, that the very ſame day the Kings meſſenger came to the Army, he forced the Town by a general aſſault; where he ſhewed ſo much valour and Prudence, that if he had continued but a moneth longer in the Army, there had been no need of making any other peace, but that of conqueſt, for there was only a few ſmall Towns, and ſome petty Iſlands which remained in the power of the enemy.

As ſoon as ever he received the Kings command, he obeyed it, and leaving behind him very good orders for the Army, he came in all poſſible poſt haſte unto him, and gave him an accompt of his charge and ſtate of the Army, and how near he was to the obtaining of a perfect and entire victory: Policander thanked him, made him as welcome as poſſibly he could, and told him that when he had a little refreſhed himſelf after his journey, he would communicate unto him the cauſe of his ſending for him. So without ſaying any more, he let him go to his [Page] lodging: Roſilion who was not ignorant of the Kings intention, had much ado to conceal his knowledge, yet fearing to offend the Princeſs, he conſtrained himſelf, and ſo diſguiſed his looks that the King was ignorant of his knowing any thing; but impatiently longing to ſee Roſanira, as well becauſe he had been long deprived of that happineſs, as to underſtand more at large what ſhe had writ unto him in a few words; therefore he went unto her, whom he found in the ſame mind he left her; but extremely afflicted at the reſolution of the King her father, to beſtow her upon King Celiodantes, upon a Treaty of peace: but becauſe many eyes were upon her, and leſt paſſion ſhould make appear the good correſpondeney betwixt them, ſhe told him in a low voice, that if he would meet her after ſupper in the place where they were wont to walk, they would talk together without ſo many witneſſes of their actions: upon this ſhe retired, leaving Roſilion extremely pleaſed to ſee that ſhe had no hand in her fathers alteration.

This appointed hour, was long a coming, according to the impatiency of Roſilion, which made him be upon the place before the Princeſs, who at laſt came as privately as ſhe could: As ſoon as they met, Roſilion (ſaid ſhe unto him) this teſtimony of my good will, which I give unto you, and whatſoever I ſhall now moſt truly ſay, muſt not make you judge any thing in my diſadvantage; but only let it thus farre poſſeſs you, that I will do for you all that my duty will permit me: I know that the affection which you bear unto me will never let you deſire any more, and therefore I make no difficulty to tell you, that I am extremely grieved to ſee the King ſo forgetful of his promiſe to you, and that he ſhould hope for good of an uncertain peace, before the certain ſervices that he hath and daily doth receive from you: For the truth is, he has changed his minde: I muſt be the victime, and be given unto Celiodantes, although he be all ſmeared with my brothers blood: Judge Roſilion what joyes I am like to have in living, lying, and eating my meat with him, that hath already wallowed in the blood of my brother, and but for you, had done the like to my father and us all: and yet this is he with whom this tyrannical reaſon of ſtate does ordain me to ſpend my miſerable dayes, and ſo I muſt, unleſs your fortune, which hitherto never found any thing impoſſible, do not ſhew it ſelf more ſtrong then the Kings reſolution. O gods! O heavens! O earth! replied Roſilion (and interrupted her) will then the King falſifie his word? You may, anſwered Roſanira, be moſt certainly aſſured of it. Has the King, replied he, ſo ſoon forgot my ſervices? ſince he can forget wrongs, ſo ſoon, anſwered ſhe, do you wonder he ſhould forget benefits? Will the King be revenged this way, ſaid he, for all the violencies, rapines, and plunders, that have been committed in his kingdome? is this Policander, that great Prince, whoſe Fame and Glory reaches all over the earth, whoſe goodneſs is ſo much admired, whoſe valour ſo much feared, and whoſe juſtice was never tainted with any reproach? The very ſame, anſwered the Princeſs, but it becomes not me to cenſure his actions; only to be ſilent, to ſuffer, and ſay he is my father: Roſilion, then pawſed a while, and then replied thus. The reſpect Madam, which hinders you from ſpeaking upon this ſubject, does indeed argue your wiſdome, but the faintneſs wherewith you ſpeak does argue but flender affection: O my Cavalier, ſaid the Princeſs, no more of this diſcourſe, unleſs you would have me think your affection unto me not ſuch as I would have it: for (and let this rule be an anſwer unto all you can deſire of me) I ſhall never believe you love me, if you requeſt any thing from me that contradicts my duty. You ſee Roſilion that I do love you: I have told you as much, and do tell you ſo again; nay, I will ever render you all poſſible demonſtrations of it, yet it cannot enter into my thoughts, but that you had rather die a hundred deaths, then wiſh me unto any thing that is againſt my duty, or to entertain the leaſt thought of ſuch a thing, for I ought to obey my father, and ſo I will as long as life remains in me. Will you then marry Celiodantes? (ſaid Roſilion with a deep ſigh) yes, anſwered ſhe, not only Celiodantes, but alſo the veryeſt barbarian nay the worſt of men, if my father command me. What good then, replied he, will all that affection do me which you are pleaſed to expreſs? my affection unto you (replied ſhe) proceeds from my own good will and inclination, but unto any other, from command only, and leſt I ſhould tranſgreſs [Page] my duty. O gods! (cryed he out) muſt I loſe you upon this conſideration? I hope, replied Roſanira, my good intentions will not be recompenſed with ſo great a puniſhment: but if by the unſearchable judgment of the gods, it happen that our Deſtiny be ſuch, you ought to ſhew as much courage upon this occaſion, as you have in all dangers which hitherto preſented themſelves unto you. What? (ſaid Roſilion) ſee you anothers, and live? Ah Roſanira, you meaſure my affection by a wrong rule, if you think my courage able to permit this: Roſilion can do any thing but that, when this comes in queſtion, all reſpects are loſt: courage and conſtancy faint, and all manner of conſiderations are caſt away, I cannot live without this hope; it pleaſed the King your father to plant it in me, you your ſelf approved of it; and when my angry fate will diſplant it, the ſame blow diſplants my life. But Madam, when you alledge it your duty to indute this dignity with patience, do you not give it a wrong name? May it not more juſtly be called. Tyrannical then reaſonable? How can you quit one you love, for one whom reaſon and nature commands you to hate? Muſt the Princeſs Roſanira be the ranſome of Celiodantes, who has done her ſo many mortal diſpleaſures? Does duty command this ſo extremely unreaſonable? Is it not rather unnatural tyranny that triumphs over your ſpirit? Caſt of this bondage Madam, break the cords which thus enſlaves your reaſon, and would ſo unjuſtly captivate it: All the world will diſapprove of the Kings deſigne, and commend your generoſity: theſe Arms which have upheld this tottering kingdome, and this ſword which hath conquered ſo many Kings, I do offer at your feet, to maintain the juſtice of your cauſe, againſt all men living; and to prove that the King, in thus ſubmitting you to his enemy is moſt unjuſt, and that it is a moſt ignominious act, unworthy of the King of Boyers.

Roſilion added unto their expreſſions many others, and would have continued longer, if the Princeſs had not interrupted him. Ceaſe, ceaſe, Roſilion (ſaid ſhe) and aſſure your ſelf that I am ſo reſolved upon it, as I will be obſervant unto my fathers commands as long as I live upon earth; the injuſtice of another, is no allowance unto me, to fail on my part: and I had rather have future ages ſay that Roſanirus fault was in too much obedience then in neglect of duty: And Roſilion let me tell you, that you are obliged as a free Cavalier, to maintain me in this reſollution, and wave your own intereſt in me; and therefore I adviſe you to addreſs your ſelf unto the King my father, put him in mind of all your ſervices, of his promiſes, and of the injuſtice in his deſigne: All that I can do for you is, that if he will refer me to my own will, I will give you all the ſatisfaction you can deſire, if he will not, I will make as much reſiſtance, as in duty I can; but if all will not do, then all I can promiſe you is, to condole your misfortune and my own, and to take my leave of you & all contentment in this life: After this, becauſe it was late, and ſhe fearing to ſtay any longer with him, ſhe retired, leaving him ſo intangled with a multitude of confuſed and unſatisfied thoughts, that the ſun did both ſet and riſe before he had ſuffered any ſleep to ſeiz upon his eyes.

As ſoon as he had heard the King was up, and to be ſpoken withall, he went unto him; but as formerly ſuch viſits were wont to be with abundance of contentment, ſo now quite contrary; not knowing with that countenance to come before him, ſince his preſent fortune had put his eyes and all his actions into mourning.

At laſt he thought it prudence, and for ſeveral conſiderations reſolved, to treat with the King as formerly he was wont to do, becauſe if happily he could diſſwade him from his pernitious deſigne, he ſhould not then give him any ſuſpition of that intelligence between the Princeſs and him: he preſented himſelf therefore before the King, in a face quite different from his heart; and began to relate at large the ſtate of the Army; particularizing the places which he had forced thoſe which rendred themſelves; the battels he had won, the combats he had ſought, and the encounters he had met withall: and briefly how little remained to do, before he made an absolute conqueſt of all his enemies; he alſo ſet before him, yet without either reproach or vanity, all the good ſervices which he had done him, and in ſuch a manner, as the King began to ſtagger in his reſolution. But [Page] Policander knowing his own good nature, and foreſeeing that it would trouble him to diſpleaſe a perſon, from whom he had received ſo much good ſervice, he commanded them two, who adviſed him unto this peace, to be preſent when Roſilion ſpoke unto him, and to fortifie his reſolution by their reaſons: As ſoon therefore as this Cavalier came unto him he ſent for them two, and diſmiſſed all the reſt that were in the room.

As long as Roſilions diſcourſe laſted, the King did not interrupt him; but as ſoon as he had done, he began in the firſt place to thank and applaud him for all his brave exploits, aſſuring him that they ſhould never be forgotten, and in the end, concluded thus: But Roſilion (ſaid he) becauſe every juſt war ought to have peace for its main end, we conceive it beſt to make it now when we may do it upon our own terms, and not to ſtay till ſome revolution force us to make it upon harder conditions. Truth is Sir, anſwered Roſilion, a great and a wiſe Prince as you are, ought to limit his ambition and his victories unto that end: but give me leave to tell you, that to conclude it now is ſomething diſhonourable unto you, ſince victory within theſe few dayes will give you the ſame peace upon farre more glorious terms; for there will not be any ere long that dare own the name of an enemy or abide the fury of your Arms. Then the elder of the two Councellours ſeeing the King to look upon him, as if he required his aſſiſtance; Sir (ſaid he) your courage and zeal to the Grandure of the King moves you to ſpeak thus: but whilſt you were in the Army, gaining Battels, forcing Towns, conquering Provinces, and adding victory unto victory, you are not ſenſible of thoſe ſufferings which this poor eſtate indures, and which the King foreſees, will increaſe the unſupportable neceſſities of the people by ſubſidies and exactions, which they are forced to pay towards the continuation and maintainance of the warre, which will not only fleece but flea them, and drive them into deſpair. Pray tell me, what contentment and advantage will it be unto the King, to gain the kingdomes of others by the loſs and ruine of his own? Can he take any delight to ſee the miſeries, hunger and extream neceſſities of his people, whilſt he is killing and maſſacring thoſe of his Neighbour Kings? The ſhorteſt fits of fury, they ſay are alwayes beſt: and believe it Roſilion, the ſame may be ſaid of warre, the longeſt whereof are alwayes the worſt and moſt deſtructive. Theſe wiſe and pious conſiderations have moved the King by the advice of his Councel to give peace not only to his enemies, but alſo to his people, who beg it upon their bare knees, and with tears in their eyes. And becauſe he thinks you, as well he may, to be one of his beſt ſervants, he therefore ſent for you to give your advice alſo, aſſuring himſelf that you would approve of it, and rejoyce, as all thoſe ought to do who love him, and have any care of his and his kingdomes welfare. The King hath conſidered the ſtate wherein he was when the Kings, his neighbours, invaded him, and that he ſhall not perhaps have the ſword and fortune of Roſilion alwayes by his ſide to help him in the like accidents: ſo as now in the height of his good fortune, he is pleaſed to hearken unto that counſel with the beſt of his friends do give him, which is, to conclude a peace in time, when he may do it to his beſt advantage. In order thereunto he hath thought upon ſuch expedients as may make this peace moſt honourable, moſt profitable, and moſt laſting; and the only way is, by a marriage between the King Celiodantes and the Princeſs Roſanira. For by this means, ſo many great kingdomes will become but one Monarchy, and will for ever perpetuate the Kings Name and Glory.

Hitherto Roſilion was patient, but when he heard of giving Roſanira unto Celiodantes, he rouſed up his courage and voice▪ What Sir? (ſaid he) will you ſuffer theſe Traytours to give you ſuch pernitious counſel, and fortifie themſelves with your name and authority? Traytours Sir, I dare ſay they are, ſince ſeeing your enemies at the laſt gaſp, having no ſtrength nor ability to oppoſe your Arms, would not only raviſh out of your hands this honourable victory, but would make you a ſlave unto thoſe you have in your priſons: Good Sir, will you ſuffer them to ſell you, and your Crown alſo? and will you approve and confirm the ſale? Do you not plainly ſee that thoſe who give you this counſel, do ſell your honour, your liberty, and your kingdome? For what is it elſe if you give the Princeſs Roſanira [Page] unto Celiodantes, but to make him King of the Boyers, Ambaries, and Lemovices? you pay very dear for the ranſome of that captive Prince, if you buy it at the rate of Crown and Liberty. Was ever ſuch a fine device to get kingdomes as this? will loſing of battels, and being taken priſoner win Crowns? Tell me, Grand Sirs of the Councel; If the Kings fortune had been to have fallen into the hands of his enemies, and loſt all his Towns and Dominions, what harder conditions would they have impoſed upon him, then theſe which your cantulous wiſdomes do think ſo good and profitable for him? Doubtleſs he could have given no more unto his Conquerour, then his Dominions, Life, and Perſon: yet you are ſo braſen fac'd (my paſſionate zeal Sir to your Majeſties honour forces me to this language) as to adviſe the King when he got the advantage over his enemies, and has them priſoners, to pay their ranſomes, and become a ſlave himſelf? will you Sir ſuffer future ages to record it in perpetual memory, that Policander King of the Boyers did buy his peace with his Neighbor, by giving away his Daughter, his Scepter, and his Liberty? Nay rather then ſo, why did not theſe wicked Counſellours adviſe you at the beginning of the war, to go with a chain about your neck, and give it and your kingdome unto your enemies? you then would have done as much as all your victories have, and have ſpared the lives of many a Cavalier, and the ruine of many a Town.

He would have proceed further, when the King knowing him to be partly in the right, yet willing to deceive himſelf, and not being able to endure theſe remonſtrances; Roſilion (ſaid he unto him) there is none about me who have ſuch intentions as you mention, and as for the Counſel which they gave me concerning peace, if you call them Traytours for it, you muſt put me into the ſame number with them, and all the reſt of my people. When I did communicate this affair unto you, it was not to require your advice, becauſe it is a thing already reſolved upon; but only becauſe I took you for one of my beſt friends and ſervants, I thought you would ſhare with me in my contentment, and in the welfare of the people. And in this general joy, I have not forgotten the ſervices which I have received from you, but have diſpoſed my daughter unto you: ſo of four kingdomes, which it hath pleaſed ſupream Fate to ſubmit unto my Crown, you ſhall have two of them, and the other two are deſigned for the King of the Picts and Santons: Thus will I unite ſix kingdomes together, which by the good correſpondency betwixt Celiodantes and you will become but one. Roſilion hearing the King ſpeak of giving his daughter unto him, though he heard before that he would give Roſanira unto Celiodantes, yet he perſwaded himſelf that he had miſunderſtood him (Sir anſwered he) the fovours which I have received from you are ſuch as tranſcend all capacities of requital; and yet Sir it ſeems you will add unto my infinite obligations, unleſs I do miſapprehend you: for you ſay you will honour me ſo far as to give your daughter unto me; and yet methought you ſaid before, that for a concluſion of the peace you would give her unto Celiodantes. Moſt true (replied Policander) for I will give the one unto you, and the other unto him: to you my daughter Cephiſe as I promiſed, and to him, my daughter Roſanira: Sir (ſaid Roſilion and interrupted) you did promiſe your daughter unto me, but Cephiſe is not ſo: ſhe is not indeed, replied the King, but only in name, and yet I loue her no leſs then if ſhe were: Sir replied Roſilion, you named Roſanira in your Letter unto me, I cannot tell (anſwered the King, whether the Secretary miſtook, but I am ſure my intention was her I now mention unto you: Ah Sir, (ſaid Roſilion, and looked the King in the face) will you do me ſo much wrong as to prefer Celiodantes before me? Celiodantes, who hath ruin'd your kingdomes, and reeks ſtill with the blood of your ſon, and who will certainly make you King without a kingdome? before me I ſay, who has ſet the Crown upon your head, revenged the death of your ſon by the death of ſo many Kings and have brought into your priſon the plunderer of your kingdomes and murderer of Ariontes? O Sir, can your heart ever let your eye ſee this Celiodantes ſit upon that throne where that Prince ſhould have raigned, had not the bloody Prince prevented him? Certainly the blood of that Prince will perpetually ring in your eares, and tell you that this marriage is unjuſt, and a horrour both to gods and men.

[Page]The King not being able to endure theſe reproaches: Peace Roſilion (ſaid he unto him) no more of this diſcourſe; for Celiodantes ſhall marry Roſanira, and be you contented with this marriage which I have propoſed unto you. Upon this Policander in a diſcontented manner would have retired into another chamber. But Roſilion extreamly offended at theſe laſt words, did run before him, as if he were almoſt out of himſelf. Sir, (ſaid he) I have no deſigns but what aims at your glory, and I would not have ſo great and ſo juſt a King be blamed for favouring me above my merits; and therefore I do declare unto you, that I will not receive this honour which you offer unto me, as being conſcious of my own unworthineſs, but will think my ſelf ſufficiently recompenced for all the ſervices I have done you, by the gift of this ſword which I wear by my ſide, at the point of which hangs your Kingdoms and Empires: But Celiodantes may aſſure himſelf of this, that none ſhall ever marry the Princeſs Roſanira, but he that gives her the head of Roſilion. Theſe words of rapture, uttered with ſo little diſcretion, did ſo exaſperate the already incenſed ſpirit of the King, that he looked upon him with an enraged eye; Ungrateful and impudent fellow (ſaid he unto him) Dareſt thou ſpeak thus unto me? Haſt thou already forgot the price I paid for thee, when I bought thee as a ſlave? Hence, out of my ſight, and ſee me no more, unleſs thou wilt feel the fury of my juſtly incenſed dſſpleaſure.

Theſe words were pronounced in ſo loud a tone, that all thoſe in the antichamber heard them, and ran in ſo faſt, that Roſilion had not time to anſwer, but gnaſhing kis teeth, and ſtamping upon the ground, he was conſtrained to retire unto his lodging, where by the Kings command he was preſently arreſted by a number of Souldiers, who ſeized upon all the doors and advenues.

As you may ſee Flies upon the firſt froſty day, vaniſh away from that place which ſwarmed with them while it was hot; ſo upon the firſt noiſe of Roſilions diſgrace, all thoſe importunate gueſts which ſwarmed about him with ſo many offers of ſervice, were all fled, and not one of them to be ſeen in the place, where one would have thought they came for the love of him. Oh the miſerable condition of thoſe who go upon the legs of tottering Fortune: for in proſperity they are even ſmothered with the importunities of ſuch horſe-flies, as in time of chill adverſity, are all vaniſhed, and ſcorn thoſe that before obliged them.

Roſilion begun preſently to reſent this change: but the falling off of theſe hollow hearted friends, was not it which troubled him; it was the Kings reproach only which ſtung him at the heart; When he ſaw himſelf alone in his chamber, and had shut the door, he began to walk up and down a great pace, not uttering a word, nor ſo much as knowing what he did, or where he was: At laſt making a ſtop in the midſt of the room; Ungrateful and impudent fellow! ſaid he) haſt thou already forgot the price I paid for thee, when I bought thee as a ſlave? Oh good Gods! continued he, Is it poſſible theſe words ſhould come from the mouth of Policander, whoſe life I have ſaved, and whoſe Crown I have kept upon his head? Yet utter them he did, and moſt certainly theſe ears did hear them; it was to me, me my ſelf he ſpoke them: Then being ſilent for a while, he began again, Oh moſt cruel Law, which will not let me pull out that Vipers tongue which ſpits thoſe venomous words; words not worthy of a man that bears the Title of a King? Remember how I bought thee as a Slave! Remember (ſaid he unto me) the price I paid for thee, when I bought thee as a Slave. Well, when all reckonings are caſt up, I have more reaſon to upbraid thee: for though I were a ſlave, it was Fortunes fault, not mine, nor ought I to be accuſed for it: but who muſt be blamed for that ſervitude out of which I releaſed thee, and into which thy drowſie ſpirit and faint heart did bring thee? As thou doſt bid me remember the price which thou didſt pay for me, which was only a little money; ſo I bid thee alſo remember the price which I paid for thee: Thou knoweſt it was my blood, of which I was too prodigal for the recovery of thy ſafety. Upon this calling to memory all the ſignal actions which he had done for Policander: And for all theſe (ſaid he) I muſt be retorted with a remember what I paid for thee. Oh ye moſt juſt Gods, who do abominate all ungrateful men, how comes it to paſs you do not puniſh this curſed ingratitude? And thou Arm, who has ſo couragiouſly defended the [Page] honour of this unthankful man, why doſt thou not revenge this intollerable affront? Why doſt thou not as much for me, as thou haſt for all thoſe that ask'd juſtice from thee in their oppreſſions? Oh thou unlucky Sword that has been ſo victoriouſly keen in the cauſe of thy enemies, and ſo dull and blunt in his that wears thee? Did I win ſo many Battels, and conquer ſo many enemies, only to loſe all my contentment and happineſs? Oh moſt fatal Deſtiny! which would have made me Conquerour, if I had not conquered! Oh the injuſtice of heaven, why did I not die in the midſt of my victories, that it might have ſaved me a dying by the hand of thoſe I have conquered.

Theſe thoughts, together with the advice which the Guards about his Lodging gave him, did put him into ſuch a fury, that he was almoſt quite out of his wits; and all that Meriſin could do, was, to get him to Bed, without contradicting any thing he ſaid, leſt it ſhould augment his rage: There he remained two nights and two days without either ſleep or meat; at laſt, a Fever ſeized upon him, and ſo high, that none did wonder he ſhould talk ſo rovingly, and far from any purpoſe, becauſe they thought his diſeaſe to be the cauſe of it: But a few days after, when his Fever had left him, and yet he continued to talk in the ſame frantique manner, it was plainly perceived that he had loſt his underſtanding, and was turned ſtark mad: which extreamly grieved all thoſe that were admirers of his Vertue, eſpecially the King Policander, who when his anger was a little over, did know that his own loſs was the greateſt: yet his earneſt deſire of peace, made him reſent his loſs with leſs regret.

In the mean time, the Peace was concluded, as Policander wiſhed, and as Celiodantes deſired; who thought all things advantagious, ſo Raſanira might be his wiſe: And the Treaty of it was ſo cloſely carried, that the firſt news which the Queen Argira heard of it, was, when Orontes told us who Celiodantes had ſent to that purpoſe. Every one at firſt did think by her countenance that ſhe approved of it; for ſhe ſeemed to be ſo joyful and contented, that one might read her approbation of what Orontes ſaid unto her, in her eyes. Madam (ſaid he unto her) As heretofore the loſs of the King did draw many a ſad tear from your eyes, ſo now you may turn all your ſorrows into joys, at the great happineſs which he and your Dominions are like to receive: For that little rub of misfortune (little may it well be called in compariſon of that great happineſs unto which it is converted) has made him a great King, and gotten Policander to be his friend: Nay more, it has gotten him two Crowns, that of the Ambarres, and that of the Boyens, by the marriage of the Princeſs Roſanira, the Inheretrix of thoſe two great Kingdoms: And this News (Madam) I am come to bring you from the King your Sno, whom now you may call the greateſt Monarch of all Gaul. The Queen was ſo ſurprized at this News, that ſhe ſtayed a long time before ſhe anſwered; whereat Orontes much wondred: and thinking perhaps that ſhe did not rightly underſtand him, he repeated it over again, relating the contentment of both the Kings, and the great joys of the people upon the publication of this Peace and Alliance: Unto which the Queen returned no anſwer; but after a deep ſigh, this; Oh Sybil Meluſine! How true are all thy Propheſies? After this, ſhe preſently diſmiſſed Orontes, and a while after, went to Bed.

None heard what Orontes had ſaid unto her, but every one judged the News to be far different from what they thought at firſt: yet none was ſo much aſtoniſhed as Orontes; for he thinking he had brought the moſt welcome news the Queen could receive, he knew not what to think at her cold entertainment of it. But ſomtimes he feared that in the exceſs of his joys he had miſtaken himſelf, and told her one thing for another.

On the other ſide, the Queen did nothing but cry, and ſigh in her Bed, not uttering a word that any could underſtand, but only from time to time ſaying, Oh Sybil Meluſine! and ſo lamented away all the night, until break of day, and then ſhe fell aſleep.

The reaſon why this Treaty was carried on ſo cloſely, was, becauſe Policander knew what hatred Argira bore unto him: And though Celiodantes was ignorant of the cauſe, yet he knew it was ſo by her own animoſity, in raiſing wars againſt [Page] Policander, almoſt without any colour of reaſon. So as when it was propoſed not to acquaint the Queen his mother with it, till all was concluded, he was willing thereunto, left ſhe ſhould give any ſtop unto that marriage which he ſo paſſionately deſired; thinking that when the peace and alliance was concluded betwixt them, then ſhe knew not how to break it of; nor could ſhe much as oppoſe it, without ſhewing her malice too palpably: Yet they foreſaw that ſhe would extreamly wonder at the News, and would be very backward to this peace, and therefore it was, that Celiodantes gave commiſſion unto Orontes, not only to cauſe this to be publiſhed and obſerved in all his Provinces, and amongſt his Allies, but alſo to receive thoſe places which Policanders Forces held, and to reſtore them unto thoſe Kings to whom they of right belonged: Alſo to releaſe all priſoners on both ſides, according to the Letters which Policander writ unto the General and Officers of his Army. So as the next morning Orontes went again unto the Queen to communicate unto her all thoſe Commiſſions which he had, and to beſeech her he might put them in execution: But ſhe ſlept on, ſo as it was very late before he could be admitted unto any ſpeech with her: And when her Lady of Honour told her that he deſired to ſpeak with her, Sweetheart (ſaid ſhe unto her) I am but in a very ill condition to hear of any buſineſs; but ſince his affairs are ſo preſſing, bid him do as the King his maſter has commanded him, and ſo turned to the other ſide.

As ſoon as Orontes had gotten this permiſſion, he aſſembled together all the Magiſtrates, and Principal Cavaliers, to whom he imparted the news of this peace, and commanded them to publiſh and obſerve it in all the Provinces of the Kingdom: And after he had taken in all thoſe places which Policanders men detained, he went unto the General of the Boyens and Ambarres Army, which was upon the Armorique Coaſt, where he was ſtill continuing his laſt victories; whom he acquainted with Policanders will, and who had already received the ſame intelligence by one of his principal Officers. Peace was preſently proclaimed, and places and priſoners generally rendred and releaſed; and ſo welcome was the news to all ſides, that even thoſe who had the advantage, were glad of it, ſo weary were all of war, and deſirous of peace.

In the mean time Orontes advertiſed the King his maſter, how Argira received the news of Peace, and of his marriage, at which he did not wonder, no more then Policander; both being of opinion, that it was an effect of the ill will which ſhe bore unto the King of the Boyens; but they made no great reckoning of it, aſſuring themſelves, that time would ſalve the ſore, and ſhe be as well contented as either of them.

The conſummation of the marriage was deferred only till the return of Orontes, and thoſe whom Policander had ſent to ſee the Treaty performed on both ſides. And one morning as Policander was going to the Temple, according to his cuſtom, a poor fellow ſeeing him paſs by, and not ſuffered by the Guards to come near him, King Policander (cryed he out in a loud voice) Command that I may tell you my name, and ſo, as none may hear me. The King caſting his eyes upon him, and ſeeing him to be an old ragged fellow, did think him to be one that would beg: and being ever of a charitable inclination, he commanded his Almoner to give him ſomthing: Upon this the poor man cryed louder, No, no King, I come not to beg, though perhaps I have need enough, but only to tell you my name. Thoſe who heard him, thought him to be ſome mad man, and therefore would have repulſed him; but the King looking better upon him, did remember that he had formerly ſeen him, and commanded to let him come nearer. The poor man kneeling down upon the ground, and in a better poſture then his habit promiſed; Sir (ſaid he in ſo low a voice that none could hear but the King) I am Veronces. Policander hearing that name, preſently remembred both by his voice and geſture, that it was the ſame Veronces who ſerved him when he courted Argira, and whom he left with her: ſo as being aſtoniſhed to ſee him ſo unexpectedly, after a long opinion of his death, he could not chuſe but caſt his arms about his neck, and embrace him, as affectionately as if he had been his ſon: Every one wondered at theſe extraordinary careſſes; but the King called for one of [Page] the Officers in his chamber, and commanded him to treat that man very kindly, to put good clothes upon his back, and money in his purſe, and at night to conduct him to his chamber. Veronces was ſo over-joyed to ſee the King acknowledge him, that he could not ſpeak a word more, but cryed for joy.

At night the Officer conducted him into the Kings chamber; who after ſome freſh careſſes, asked him where he had been loſt ſo long? Sir, anſwered he, the queſtion which you are pleaſed to ask, is of too great importance to be anſwered before ſo much company, and therefore I beſeech you let it be in private.

Policander then taking him by the hand, and thinking it to be ſome buſineſs which concerned the Queen Argira, he carried him into his Cloſet; where Veronces ſeeing himſelf alone with the King, he began thus.

I have wondred (Sir, a thouſand times, when I was in the Abyſs of my miſery, why the Gods ſhould keep me ſo long alive; thinking that if the afflictions of men were equally divided, I have ſuffered above my ſhare, and more then any other: upon this conſideration, I muſt needs confeſs, I did ſomtimes begin to murmure againſt the wiſe Government of the Gods, and accuſe them of injuſtice, for having ſo little care of humanes. But now when I ſee their all-wiſe providence in preſerving me, to do you a ſervice of ſuch importance, I muſt needs ſay they are all-wiſdom and goodneſs, in keeping me alive, and conducting me opportunely unto this place, where I do not think any but my ſelf can ſhew you the greateſt errour that ever could happen in your Family.

Be pleaſed therefore to know Sir, that ſince you commanded me to ſtay with the Princeſs Argira, who was preſently after Queen of the Santons, and ſince by the death of the King her Father, was Queen alſo of the Picts, I may ſay my life hath been nothing but a continual chain of miſeries and diſaſters; one no ſooner ended but another immediately began; and I think Fortune would never have been tyred with tormenting me, had it not been to do you ſervice: But I think this favour ſo great, that I think all my paſt torments and miſerable time well employed, ſince I have ſo much life left as to ſerve my maſter. Imagine Sir, that in ſeeing Veronces, you ſee a meſſenger of God ſent unto you, or rather, a ſoul that has been retained at leaſt theſe twenty years in hell, has at laſt got leave to paſs over the River Styx, purpoſely to adviſe you of a fault which would have eclipſed all your glory, made all your contentments bitter, and have ſunk you in ſorrows: For the truth is Sir, I have been priſoner theſe twenty years, without any hopes of liberty, until this general Peace, by which I receive the favour of heaven, and the light of the Sun, which has been ſo long a ſtranger to my eyes. Enjoying therefore this benefit, I came to underſtand that you are giving the Princeſs Roſanira unto the King Celiodantes in marriage: As ſoon as I heard this news, I made all the haſte I could unto you, to ſpeak with you before the marriage be conſummated: and if I be come time enough I do thank the infinite goodneſs of the Gods; and if too late, I proteſt that what I intended to tell you, ſhall die with me, and I ſhall think it the greateſt misfortune that ever did befall me: I beſeech the Gods after ſuch a diſaſter, not to let me live a minute longer, ſince life will be a moſt intolerable torment unto me.

Upon this Veronces was ſilent, and Policander laid his hand upon his ſhoulder, Friend (ſaid he unto him) thy affection is ſo well known unto me, that thy expreſſions of it may be ſpared: Come tell me freely what this ſecret is which you think ſo neceſſary to my contentment? For the truth is, I do intend to give my daughter unto Celiodantes, but it is yet proceeded no further then promiſes, and I ſtay only till the peace be publiſhed, and received by all thoſe that have any Intereſt therein. Oh ye great and good Gods! be ye for ever bleſſed (cryed out Veronces) as well for your goodneſs, as for your profound judgements. Then turning towards the King, Sir (ſaid he unto him) I ſhall acquaint you with a thing that will even raviſh you with wonder, and will divert you from this marriage. What can divert me (replyed Policander) from a deſigne ſo much conducing to the grandeur of my Crown, and the welfare of my people? Sir (replyed Veronces) This marriage is againſt all Laws, both Divine and Humane: For, is not the Princeſs Roſanira your Daughter? Yes certainly (anſwered Policander.) And [Page] the King Celiodantes (replied Verances) is your Son. My Son? (ſaid the King in a great amazemement, and ſtarted back) yes Sir, anſwered Verances, Celiodantes is your Son; and be pleaſed to hear the whole truth of the mattter, which none can tell you but the Queen Argira and my ſelf: Then being ſilent a while he went on.

The Princeſs with whom you commanded me to ſtay, was preſently after your delivered of a ſon, and ſo ſecretly, that none but her nurſe and my ſelf, who ſhe was pleaſed to truſt, did know of it: A few moneths after, ſhe was married to the King of the Santons, by whom the ſame year ſhe had another ſon called Celiodantes; but becauſe ſhe married only by reaſon of ſtate, and ſtill preſerved her affection entirely for you, ſhe could not endure to ſee Celiodantes continually under her eye, and be deprived of that better beloved ſon which ſhe had by you; and much leſs that he whom ſhe loved not ſhould be King of two great kingdomes, whilſt the other had no eſtate: and a hundred times has ſhe made her complaints of it unto me, and as oft did I indeavour to comfort her: at the laſt ſhe pitched upon a moſt ſtrange reſolution: ſhe pretended that a certain Sybil had foretold her, that if the little Celiodantes were ſeen by any other but his Nurſe, and thoſe that were to wait upon him, until a certain time, he would moſt infallibly die immediately after. By this device ſhe ſent him away, and commanded me at the ſame time to change him for the other which ſhe had by you, ſo as ever ſince he has been received by all for Celiodantes. Now ſhe made choiſe of me for a witneſs of this change, to the end, as ſhe ſaid, that if ſhe chanced to die, I might let you underſtand how great her affection was unto you; and bleſſed be the gods, I have now, after ſo many years of miſery made good my promiſe unto her.

King Policander hearing this diſcourſe, O Verances, ſaid he unto him, doſt thou aſſure me that Celiodantes is my ſon? and that the Queen Argiras love unto me, moved her to put him in place of the true Inheritour? Aſſure your ſelf Sir, anſwered Verances, upon that fidelity which I own unto you that I do not lie in one word.

Policander then made a ſilent pauſe, and afterwards clapped his hands together, certainly (ſaid he) this is the cauſe of Argiras ſad reſentment of the news, when Orontes told her of the marriage between Celiodantes and Roſanira, for ever ſince ſhe has kept her bed. Doubtleſs Sir, ſaid Verances, that if ſhe know of ſuch a marriage betwixt them two, it will grieve her to the very ſoul; and I do judge of her by my ſelf, for I proteſt, I think that had I come too late to prevent it, it would have coſt me my life. But Sir, there is no reaſon you ſhould ſuffer one that has loved you ſo well, to continue in ſuch intollerable ſorrow; I beſeech you therefore out of your own goodneſs, and conjure you by the love you once bore unto her, to remedy it, and to quit your ſelf of thoſe obligations wherein you ſtand bound unto her. Friend (ſaid the King then) now do I begin to believe that heaven does love me, and will let me live the reſt of my dayes in contentment, ſince It hath ſo unexpectedly given me a ſon in lieu of him I loſt. I am reſolved therefore not only preſently to put the Queen Argira out of her pain, but alſo give her ſuch teſtimonies of my eſteem, as ſhe ſhall never again repent of her affection unto me.

After ſome other diſcourſe upon this ſubject, the King commanded him to retire, and above all to be ſecret: then he went unto Celiodantes, whom he accoſted with ſuch new and extraordinary Carreſſes as did amaze him, and afterwards told him, that he had a moſt earneſt deſire that the Queen Argira his mother, ſhould be at the marriage, and therefore wiſhed him to continue the means of getting her to come, or if ſhe would not, he was reſolved to go unto her, although ſhe was diſpleaſed with him, for he was fully reſolved upon a reconciliation with her, and never to ſuffer the conſummation of the marriage but in her preſence. Celiodantes, who next his marriage, deſired nothing more then to ſatisfie Policander, he told him after much other diſcourſe, that he would go himſelf and invite her to come, aſſuring himſelf ſhe would not deny him that favour: and Policander, approving his deſign, he began to take order for his departure, and made ſuch [Page] haſte, as within three dayes after. he was ready to ſet forward, when Orontes returned and aſſured him, that the Queen Argira would be with them within two dayes, and that he came before her purpoſely to acquaint them. Both the Kings were extreamly joyed at this news, and Celiodantes the ſame hour ſet forward to meet her.

Policander the mean time enquiring of Orontes, how it came to paſs, her humour was ſo much changed from what it whas when he writ, did underſtand, that after ſhe had kept her bed a long while, ſhe ſent one evening for him, and faintly asked him upon what buſineſs the King her Son had ſent him thither. Madam, anſwered he, when I came firſt I began to tell you my buſineſs, but you were ſo indiſpoſed then, that you could not hear me out; I underſtand, replied ſhe, that you come about the Publication of the peace, and to cauſe Publique joyes to be made for his marriage. But in that there was no need of any addreſſes unto me, for you had commiſſion ample enough for it without my approbation. Madam, anſwered Orontes, 'tis moſt true, I had ſuch commiſſion, but it was with a limitation, to act in it according unto your pleaſure, and I am to beſeech you from Policander and your Son, you would be pleaſed to take ſo much pains as to be at the Celebration of the marriage. Did not you tell me (ſaid ſhe and interrupted) that the marriage was already paſt? Pardon me, Madam, I moſt humbly beſeech you, ſaid he, I might perhaps tell you that the marriage and the Articles of peace were concluded upon; but the conſummation of the marriage was not to be, before your health would permit you to be there, or till you excuſed your ſelf.

O Orontes, (cryed ſhe out with a joyful countenance) how I have been tormented, ſince your firſt coming, by not underſtanding the buſineſſe of your voyage: for you muſt know that when I underſtood the King my Son made ſo ſmall accompt of me, it did ſo grieve me to the ſoul, that my life has been odious unto me. O Madam, replied Orontes, entertain no ſuch opinion, I beſeech you, but believe, though he uſed all the expedition he could in concluding the peace without imparting it unto you, becauſe he thought it ſo neceſſary and and advantageous to make himſelf King of two great kingdomes, that he thought you would blame him if he uſed any delay: yet for the marriage, aſſure your ſelf Madam, he was not ſo haſty, ſince the retardment of it could not be of ſuch importance; and the King Policander himſelf deſires you ſhould be preſent at it. The Queen upon this, ſo changed her countenance, as if ſhe had not been the ſame; and took order for her departure the next morning.

Policander ſuppoſed that the Queen had prudently concealed the cauſe of her diſpleaſure from Orontes, and he longed extremely to hear the relation of Verances confirmed from her own mouth.

The Queen being arived, and received with all the honours that Policander could do unto her, and to the general joyes of all, except Roſanira, who by reaſon of her affection unto Roſilion, could not in heart approve of this marriage with Celiodantes, The next morning, King Policander went to viſit her, and after all Ceremonies of civility and complement, ſhe deſited to ſpeak with him only in the preſence of the Princeſs Roſanira and the King her Son; ſo as every one quitting the room but they, the Queen began in this manner.

I am ſure, Policander, when firſt you reſented the fury of my Sons Arms, and of thoſe united with him, by my contrivance, to your ruine, you were then not a little aſtoniſhed. Do you remember what affection I ſhewed unto you, when (as a Knight errant) you came into the Court of the King my Father? if you do, you could not expect a leſſe revenge upon your ingratitude, from my wrong'd affection; and when you have heard me out, you will confeſſe that love and hatred had never ſo ſtrong an influence upon any, as it had upon the Soul of Argira. But you Madam (ſaid ſhe unto the Princeſs) I beſeech you wave your ill opinion of me, until you know by experience, what power theſe two paſſions of love and hatred have over a Soul that loves well. And you Son (ſaid ſhe unto Celiodantes) ſtay until the end of my diſcourſe, and then I aſſure my ſelf you will commend my fault, and think your ſelf beholding unto me.

[Page]Then beginning her diſcourſe at the arival of Policander in the Court of the King of Picts, ſhe related all his Courtſhip of her, and the promiſes which ſhe received from him, not concealing any particulars of their affection: how cloſly ſhe carried her being with child, and her delivery: The ſorrows ſhe reſented when ſhe heard he had married Cloriſena contrary to his promiſe; how ſhe was forced by her fathers command to marry the King of the Santons, by whom ſhe had a Son. She repreſented her grief to ſee this Son alwayes with her, and to be deprived of the other: her reſolution was to change them, her contrivances about it, her curioſity to know the Fortunes of theſe children from the Sibil Meſuline, whoſe anſwer ſhe ſtill kept in writing: how ſhe put the true Celiodantes into the hands of Verances, and how extremely grieved ſhe was, when ſhe thought them both loſt.

The King Policander, who knew all theſe things from Verances, he was not ſo much aſtoniſhed as the reſt: But Celiodantes, who ſaw himſelf deprived of Roſanira, and of two kingdomes, of which he thought to be Legitimate Lord, he was ſtrangely confounded; yet it was no ſmall contentment unto him, to ſee he had found ſuch a father as Policander, whoſe virtue and valour was held in high eſteem amongſt all the Princes of his time. And to hide his diſcontents, when the King his father opened his arms to embrace him, he kneeled down and ſaid, Sir, although I have this day loſt that which I loved moſt dear, yet the Princeſs Roſanira will give me leave to rejoyce that I have found ſuch a Father as the great King Policander.

Son, ſaid he, wives, if one be loſt another may be found, ſo cannot fathers, eſpecially ſuch as I ſhall be unto you: And for my part, I think this day the happyeſt I ever lived, ſince in it I have found a Treaſure which I eſteem more then my Life; and ſince now I find, that never was any Cavalier more obliged to a Lady, then Policander is unto the Queen Argira your mother: Then raiſing him up, and kiſſing him, he ſuffered him to kiſſe Roſanira as his ſiſter, who made it appear by her eyes, that ſhe loved him much better as a Brother, then as a Husband.

In the mean while, King Policander addreſſing himſelf unto the Queen Argira; I beſeech you Madam (ſaid he unto her) Did you never ſince hear of the true Celiodantes nor of Verances? Never, anſwered ſhe, though I have made all the enquiry that poſſibly I could; and yet I am in ſome aſſured hopes he is not loſt, by reaſon of the Prediction which I received from the Sybil Meluſine: For it is not probable ſhe ſhould be a lyer only in this; before you ſay any more Madam, ſaid the King, I would have you ſee one, who perhaps may tell you ſome news of him: then going himſelf to the door, he brought in Verances, and taking him by the hand, preſented him to the Queen: Madam, ſaid he unto her, do you know this man? As ſoon as ſhe caſt her eye upon him, although he was grown very old and lean, yet ſhe cried out, Ah Ʋerances, where is the charge I committed into your hands? Ʋerances kneeling down upon the ground, with tears in his eyes, Madam, ſaid he unto her, force and violence hath diſabled me from giving you a good accompt: O ye gods, cryed ſhe, and joyned her hands together, is my Son loſt? and is the Sybil a lyar? Tell me Ʋerances, ſaid ſhe, and tell me truly, is he dead? didſt thou ſee him murdered before thy face? No Madam, anſwered he; but if you pleaſe to hear the Fortune of the moſt miſerable man alive, I will briefly tell you mine, by which you may be better ſatisfied in your Queſtions: Then Policander beſeeching her to hear him, he began thus.

I was no ſooner come to the place, where by your command I had changed this young Prince for his brother, but I changed alſo his name, and charged his Nurſe to call him by no other then Kinicſon, chuſing that name rather then any other, becauſe of the ſtone which you hung about his neck, whereon was ingraved the figure of a Lion, with theſe words, Kinick, Knicſon; conceiving that if ever he were loſt, or came within compaſs of your hearing this name, you would know him by it. We went then, according to your command, unto the Port of the Santons, where taking a little retired houſe, we paſſed away five years, every one thinking Kinicſon to be my ſon, and his Nurſe my wife. When he was about that [Page] age, one unlucky day, as he was playing amongſt other children by the Sea ſide, he was carried away by ſome Pirats who roved about that coaſt: I was there alſo, but aſleep upon the ground, but did not awaken, till after theſe Raviſhers had got my maſter into their hands, and me alſo: yet amidſt this great diſaſter, it was ſome comfort unto me to be with him, that I might in ſome ſort ſerve him; but alas, Fortune did preſently after rob me of this conſolation alſo: for we were no ſooner upon the open Sea, but another company of Pirats fell upon thoſe that took us, and after a long diſpute became maſters of us; and it was my chance to be wounded. Theſe laſt Pirats, thinking that I had been one of the conquered Pirats, they put me into chains, and treated me with all the cruelties that ſuch perſons ordinarily uſe to be: Theſe men carried us into one of the Armorique Iſles, where they were wont to make their retreat, and where Merchant of the Continent uſed to come and buy ſuch prizes of them, as they uſed to take upon that coaſt.

A few dayes after, theſe Merchants came thither, and the child was bought, as well for his handſomneſs, as upon the promiſes that I made unto them, to pay double what he coſt, as ſoon as I could convey a Letter unto his friends; for I was extremely deſirous to get him out of the clutches of theſe wretched ſort of men. When a thing, Madam, is decreed by heaven, it is impoſſible to be avoided. An honeſt Merchant bought him, and preſently paid, what they asked, both for him and me. I told you that I received a wound in the Combate, and this wound for want of right dreſſing, did ſo gangrene, that the Merchant durſt not take me with him, left I ſhould dy by the way; but gave me ſome money to maintain me, with a promiſe to return unto me within fifteen dayes. And becauſe the Pirats had taken the ſtone which you had put about the neck of little Kinicſon, I beſeeched the Merchant to buy it alſo, and give it him: The honeſt Merchant did ſo, and before my face put it about the neck of the child; at which I was exceedingly contented, thinking that though I died, yet this mark might one day bring him to your knowledge.

Now Madam, the fifteen dayes were paſt. and fifteen more, yet no Merchant came; and a while after, I heard he was dead: when I was recovered of my wound, I required a releaſe, becauſe my ranſome had been paid; but they who made profit their god, did but laugh at me, and the chief of them anſwered, that the gods had made them Lords of all they could get, and owners of all that fell into their hands: ſo as clogging me with abundance of chains, I remained there in abundance of miſery, until this laſt war, when the Boyers and Ambaries, after they had forced many Towns towards the Armorique coaſt, did by fortune come into this Iſlle, which they plundered, and with many others, brought me into their camp; where though I was a priſoner, yet it was ſome ſatisfaction to be priſoner unto reaſonable men, and to ſee thoſe who uſed me ſo cruelly, to be priſoners as well as my ſelf. Heaven at laſt, ſhewed ſome pity upon me, and after a twenty years impriſonment, did ſet me at liberty, by the benefit of the general peace, when all priſoners were releaſed.

The firſt thing I did was to go unto the Temple, and render thanks unto the great Tautates, and next to beſeech him, that if Kinicſon were alive, to make him known unto you, that I might paſs away the remainder of my old age in ſome reſt.

Having recorded in my memory, the name and place of the Merchant, I went thither as faſt as I could; and all I could learn was, that the eſtate of the Merchant, after his death, was divided amongſt his children, and thoſe that had Kinicſon, did ſend him up the river Loyre amongſt other Merchandize, and ſold him either in Gaul about Lyons, or beyond: And being deſirous to make a more exact ſearch, I underſtood that all this Merchants children were ſlain in this laſt war: So I went as faſt as I could unto the Port of the Santons to enquire of the Nurſe whether ſhe heard any news; but they told me, that as ſoon as ſhe heard of the loſs of her ſon, and her husband, ſhe died for grief: And indeed, Madam, I reſolved upon the ſame, not knowing what I had elſe to do; but the news that I heard there preſently after, prolonged my life: For I underſtood that Policander, [Page] having taken the King your ſon priſoner, he reſolved to conclude a peace, and for a confirmation of it, to marry the Princeſs Roſanira unto him. Then did I think the Gods had preſerved me alive purpoſely to prevent that inceſtuous marriage; and though I knew, Madam, that you were alive, and that you knew the truth of things better then I, yet I thought ſome conſideration or other might keep you from declaring it. I made therefore all the haſte that poſſibly I could, to acquaint Policander with it, leſt ſo great a diſaſter ſhould happen in the Family of ſo good and ſo juſt a King; and leſt that curſe which would infallibly enſue upon ſuch inceſtuous alliance, ſhould fall upon his head.

Upon this, he fell down upon his knees with tears in his eyes; It grieves me Madam to the very ſoul (ſaid he) that I am not able to reſtore unto you that charge which you committed unto me: But curſed Fate! without any fault in me, did deprive me of that contentment.

The queen after ſhe had looked a while upon him, and ſaw his eyes ſwim in tears; Ʋerances (ſaid ſhe unto him) all that I can gather from your diſcourſe, is, that my ſon is loſt, and that there is no hopes ever to ſee him again. And Ʋerances making no reply, but ſadly ſhaking his ſhoulders, Oh Gods! ſaid ſhe, muſt the Sybil be a Liar only unto me? Here is thy prediction, oh Meluſine (ſaid ſhe, and pulled a paper out of her pocket) written with thy own hand; I muſt to my grief upbraid thee with it, and tell the world thou art an Impoſtor, a Deceiver, and not to be believed. The King then taking the paper, and reading it he did admire it, that the Sybil ſhould ſo foreſee all that hapned unto her ſon, and the inceſtuous marriage which was intended: But when he read theſe words,

In Forreſts, where ſhall be Prince Godomar,

The other ſhall his ſenſes there recover:

Then Fate ſhall kind be both to one and other.

Oh Madam (cryed he out) Do not condemn this great Sybil. Then taking Verances by the hand; Verances (ſaid he) in what place do they ſay the childe was ſold? Alas Sir (anſwered he) they know nothing, but that he was ſent up the River Loyre with other Merchandiſe. Well (replyed the King) what age might the childe be then? About ſix years old, anſwered Verances. Was he black or fair, ſaid the King? Sir (ſaid Verances) he was the faireſt childe that ever eye beheld: fair hair, and curled; full eyes, and lively; viſage ſomthing oval, complexion freſh and delicate, big for his age, and full made; in all proportions ſo handſom, and in every action ſo becoming, as it was impoſſible to ſee, and not to love him.

What was his name? ſaid the King. His right name (anſwered Verances) was Celiodantes, but leſt he ſhould be known. I gave him the name of Kinicſon, by reaſon of a ſtone which had that name writ about it, and which the Queen did put about his neck. Oh ye infinite Gods! cryed out Policander, lifting up his hands and eyes to heaven, open our eyes, that we may find out the truth which hath been ſo obſcurely hid from our eyes.

Then turning towards the Queen, Madam (ſaid he unto her) as you have given me one ſon, ſo I will give you another, unleſs I be the moſt miſtaken man alive: For tell me Daughter (ſaid he unto the Princeſs Roſanira) do you remember the name which Roſilion had when the Merchants preſented him unto me! Sir, (anſwered ſhe, almoſt out of her ſelf) his name was as you may ſee writ upon this ſtone, which formerly he gave me, when he waited upon the Princeſs my Siſter, and me; for (ſaid ſhe) having nothing elſe to give me for a New-years gift, when they gathered the Miſleto of the New year, he gave me this; then pulling it out of her breaſt, I have ever ſince kept it (ſaid ſhe) becauſe he told me it was very fortunate. The King no ſooner ſaw it, but he knew it to be the very ſame which he himſelf had long worn, and afterwards gave it unto the Queen Argira; who alſo as ſoon as ſhe caſt her eye upon it, ſhe cryed out, and ſaid, Oh happy mark [Page] of my paſt contentments, I do demand of thee him unto whom I gave thee, whom if thou doſt reſtore unto me, I will call the moſt fortunate ſtone that ever was: then ſhe kiſſed it, and laid it unto her breaſt.

But all this was nothing to the joys of Verances when he ſaw it, for truly he ſeemed to be abſolutely out of his wits. The Princeſs who durſt not ſhew her joys, for fear of giving too much knowledge of her affection unto Roſilion, ſhe waited with extream impatience, until he was fully known, that ſhe might be a ſharer in their demonſtrations of joy. In the mean time, the King taking the ſtone, and reading the inſcription about the Lyon, he found it to be Kinic, Kinicſon, which ſignifies, a King, the ſon of a King. Here is the name (ſaid he) which he had when the Merchants ſold him unto me as a ſlave, for I do very well remember it, and that afterwards when he killed the Lion which was ready to devour me, I changed it into Roſilion; as well in memory of that generous act, as becauſe he was my daughters Cavalier, and from Roſanira and the Lion, I formed the name Roſilion. When he was firſt brought unto me, he was about the ſame age which Verances mentions; his face was according to his deſcription; and all circumſtances makes me believe Roſilion to be the ſame whom the Queen loſt. And yet I conceive that a buſineſs of this importance ought not to be divulged, until ſome more certain teſtimonies appear; for this ſtone might be taken from him, and put upon another▪ and that name might be given unto him by chance, eſpecially ſeeing him ſo handſome, as he might well be thought worthy of that name, which indeed does ſignifie the Son of a King; and therefore before any notice be taken, I would have it made out by more infallible circumſtances and proofs.

Sir (ſaid Verances preſently,) he loved me ſo well, as I am confident that as ſoon as he hears my name, he will know me. If I do ſee him (ſaid the Queen) I can know him by a moſt undoubted mark; for I remember that when I put him into the hands of Verances, I was in ſome fears of loſing him, and therefore to know him, would have given him a mark with a hot Iron; and looking which was the moſt convenient place, I found upon his hand a Roſe ſo perfect, that I thought it mark ſufficient. Oh Madam (ſaid the Princeſs preſently) aſſure your ſelf then that Roſilion is your ſon, for I have ſeen a Roſe upon his left hand ſo perfectly drawn by Nature, as is beyond all imitation of Art. Oh Sir, ſaid the Queen, and clapped her hands together, what can you deſire more? Is it poſſible to give more certain aſſurances? The name, the age, the ſtone, the merchants, and the mark upon his hand, makes it moſt apparent that he is the very ſame; and above all, the prediction of the Sybil Meluſine, puts in out of all doubt, conſidering the condition wherein he is.

Madam (ſaid Verances) I moſt humbly beſeech you, give me leave to go unto him, and ſpeak with him, before he hear any thing of this news, and I ſhall give you a moſt perfect account. Upon this he went preſently to the Lodging of Roſilion, whoſe malady was not at that time in its height of Fury, but only a diſtraction of the underſtanding, which made him conceit himſelf ſomtimes to be in the Army, and commanding, as if he were the General; otherwhiles he fancied that he ſaw Roſanira, and ſpoke unto her; ſomtimes he would upbraid the King with breach of promiſe, and ſuch conceptions: And when he fell into theſe humours, he would talk ſo temperately, and urge ſuch ſolid reaſons and arguments, that if he did not ſomtimes rove preſently from one thing unto another, one would not have judged him to be out of his ſenſes.

When Verances came unto him, he was walking up and down the chamber, and ſaid not a word; but as ſoon as he was told that Roſanira had ſent to viſit him, he left walking, and received him whom they preſented unto him, ſo very kindly, and gave ſuch ſweet language, that none would have believed him diſtempered: and this was no novelty; for when at any time they would have him to do any thing, if they told him that Roſanira would have it ſo, he preſently obeyed, with ſo much willingneſs and alacrity, as if his mind had not been diſordered.

Verances ſeeing him in this condition, could not refrain from tears: but before he made himſelf known unto him, Sir (ſaid he) the Princeſs Roſanira has ſent me to know how you do, and to ſee whether the Roſe which you have upon your left [Page] hand be worn out. Worn out (ſaid he preſently) No, no, neither the Roſe in my hand, nor the Roſanira in my heart will ever wear out. She hopes the ſame (replyed Verances) but becauſe ſome had told her the contrary, ſhe ſent me to ſee, and report the truth unto her. Then he held out his hand unto him; ſee Cavalier (ſaid he) how Nature knowing I was decreed by deſtiny unto Roſanira, has given me a Roſe, which I will keep as long as life. Poor Verances knowing him very well by that mark, Ah Kinicſon (ſaid he unto him) is it poſſible you ſhould ſee Verances and not know him? Upon this he ſtarted back two or three paces, and after he had looked a while upon him, Are you Verances (ſaid he all amazed) the husband of Lerina? (that was the name of his Nurſe, whom he thought to be his mother.) I am the very ſame (anſwered he) that was taken with you upon the Sea ſide by Pyrats, and who never ſince enjoyed one minute of contentment till I came hither. To ſee the good nature of Roſilion, he ran unto him with open arms, embraced and kiſſed him, and for very joy, tears came into his eyes: afterwards, as if he were in his perfect ſenſes, he enquired of his and Lerinas fortune, and why he had been ſo long abſent from him. Verances then acquainted him with his long impriſonment, and how he was ſet at liberty by the general Peace: At the word Peace he began to ſigh, and to be very extravagant in diſcourſe of the War which he had enterprized againſt Celiodantes, with whom he would joyn Battel, and would have Verances there; and roved ſo far from any purpoſe, that Verances not being able to conceal his ſorrow and tears; Sir, ſaid he unto him, what meſſage will you pleaſe to ſend unto the Princeſs Roſanira? Tell her (ſaid he) that I will ere long ſend her Celiodantes a Priſoner; but I do not intend the ſecond victory ſhall be ſo disadvantagious unto me as the firſt. Then Verances would have gone away: But dear Verances (ſaid he unto him) take heed you be not again taken by Pyrats; if you go by Land, I will be your convoy with half my Army; but be ſure you return preſently unto me again, if you love me.

Verances with abundance of tears returned to the King and Queen, and reported what he had heard, and how Roſilion remembred the name of Lerinda and Kenicſon; of which the Queen was ſo glad, that ſhe held up her hands, thanked heaven, and wept for joy: At laſt (after much rejoycing) they all reſolved not to publiſh their toys, until they ſaw the reſt of the Sybils prediction verified; and in order thereunto, to carry Roſilion into Forreſts: And alſo it was then concluded upon, that if he were cured, Roſanira ſhould be his wife, and Cephiſe be given unto Celiodantes.

Verances then addreſſing himſelf unto King Policander, Sir, ſaid he unto him, will you be pleaſed to give you moſt faithful ſervant leave to put you in memory of that which my duty obligeth me unto? Moſt freely (anſwered the King.) Be pleaſed to know then, O moſt great King, that you can never hope for any bleſſing from heaven nor earth, as long as you continue in that injuſtice, wherein out of ſome reaſon of State you have lived ſeveral years. Have I done any injuſtice? ſaid the King, and was a little moved. Yes Sir (replyed Verances) and the greateſt that ever was done: for is it not the height of injuſtice to break all your promiſes made unto ſo good and ſo wiſe a Queen as this great Princeſs in? Do you not remember how I am a witneſs of all thoſe ſolemn Oaths, and Gods which you mocked, at the making of thoſe promiſes? Aſſure your ſelf Sir, that all the misfortunes which hitherto you have received, are but fore-runners of greater, unleſs you do ſatisfie all thoſe ſolemn promiſes which you made in the preſence of the Gods. The King upon this was in a ſtrange confuſion. I do confeſs Verances, ſaid he unto him, thou ſayeſt moſt truly; and to make all due ſatisfaction, if the Queen will pleaſe to forgive, and forget the offence which I have committed againſt her, which as thou ſayeſt, was committed only out of reaſon of State, I will this very hour take her for my legitimate Wife, and Queen of the Boyens and Ambarres; which ſhe accepted of with much joy.

Thus the grave old man made an end of relating the cauſe of the Queen Argiras coming into that Country, and beſeeched the Nymph to keep it, ſecret, until it pleaſed the Gods to reſtore Roſilion unto his health. Unto which ſhe anſwered, that ſhe thought it very expedient ſo to do, although ſhe had very confident hopes [Page] of his cure: for (ſaid ſhe) beſides the predictions of the Sybil, which hitherto have proved all true, the coming hither of him who muſt cure him, which was but the day before Roſilion came, ſeems as if the Gods had ſent him purpoſely for it: For the Prince Godomar, the ſecond ſon of the Burgundian King, came unto this Town but yeſterday, and was conducted hither by a moſt unexpected piece of Fortune, Madam (ſaid Argira) you do put me into great hopes and joys; but I beſeech you, how do you conceive it ſhould be him whom the Sybil means? I do conceive (ſaid ſhe) upon good reaſon; for before your coming, we were reſolved that he ſhould drive a ſacred Nail for the cure of a Shepherd that is troubled with the ſame diſeaſe; and this will be a means to keep it the more ſecret: for under pretenſe of the Shepherd, both may be done as you deſire. And I do think the Gods did ſend Prince Godomar hither, purpoſely for it; becauſe it being neceſſary that he who drives the Nail, ſhould be Soveraign Magiſtrate; I cannot think of any more fit for it then he, whoſe quality is above the common rank. How Madam? ſaid the Queen Argira, Is then the young Prince of the Burgundians here? He is Madam (anſwered the Nymph) and I cannot conceive any danger in acquainting him who you are; to the end, that if he ſhould come to know it afterwards, he ſhould not be offended at our diffendence in him. With all my heart (ſaid the queen) I will therefore ſend unto him, with a tender of my ſervice, and acquaint him with it. Madam (ſaid Adamas unto the queen) I conceive it very neceſſary for many reaſons, that all haſte be made in the cure of the Prince Roſilion, eſpecially becauſe it is impoſſible but the buſineſs will be divulged if it be retarded, ſince there are many in your Train who know of it: And ſince the ſacrifice is already reſolved upon, and prepared for the Shepherd Adraſtes, the deferring of it would give occaſion unto many to ſeek out for the cauſe of it, and perhaps find it out.

But beſides all theſe conſiderations, the important affairs now in agitation, and which the Nymph will impart unto you, do require a ſpeedy courſe to be taken in it; ſo as Madam without more delay, let it be effected to morrow. Father (ſaid the queen) you motion a thing which ſuits much with my approbation, though I durſt not trouble the Nymph ſo far as to move it; but ſince her ſervice requires it ſo, I beſeech you let us joyn our petitions together, for a ſpeedy concluſion of it.

Adamas then turning towards the Nymph, Madam (ſaid he unto her) if you pleaſe, I ſhall ſee the ſacrifice in readineſs, and ſhall acquaint the high Prieſt, and Prince Godomar, and therefore I beſeech you give this ſatisfaction unto the queen.

The Nymph conſented; and ſending for Galathea, ſhe retired, and left the queen Argira to as much reſt as her troubled ſoul would give her leave to take.

The next morning the high Prieſt, accompanied with many Flamins, and the moſt part of the Colledge of Auguſtalians, preſented himſelf before the Nymph, to let her underſtand what was neceſſary to be done in the publique action which ſhe intended; and amongſt other things, that ſhe ſhould chuſe a Soveraign Magiſtrate, unto whom ſhe ſhould refer the Soveraign Power, as long as the buſineſs was in hand: For (ſaid he) this Ceremony did come from Numa Pompilius; and at that time Rome was under the command of Kings, and it was they who were wont to drive the Nail: But after Kings, were aboliſhed, they uſed always to elect a Dictator: For this ſolemn action muſt not be performed by any, but ſuch a one as hath no ſuperiour unleſs the Gods. Now Madam, I preſent theſe things unto you, that you may put in effect thoſe good and pious intentions which you have towards Adraſtes, and the other ſtranger; and in order thereunto, to make choiſe of him, who being made Soveraign Magiſtrate, may execute all conditions neceſſary: For though (Madam) you be the Soveraign Lady of the Country, yet according unto our Cuſtoms, you are not capable of medling herein, becauſe in all ſacrifices unto Jupiter, men only muſt be miniſters.

The Nymph who was already advertized of the neceſſity in making this election, and who alſo thought it advantagious to her affairs, yet ſeeming to have no [Page] other deſign, but the care of theſe two Perſons. Father, anſwered ſhe, I am ſo much deſirous to obtain this favour from the gods, that I intend not only to make choiſe of ſuch a man ſo quallified as you mention, but alſo to do any thing elſe that you ſhall think either expedient or neceſſary; and ſince we are not well experienced in ſuch ſolemn Actions, I pray give me a full relation of all that is to be be done. Madam, ſaid the high Prieſt, two things are neceſſary to be, done: The one a ſacrifice, the other an election of a ſoveraign Magiſtrate; for after the ſacrifice offered unto Jupiter and Minerva, he whom you chuſe, muſt drive a nail of braſs, which we muſt conſecrate and make pure and clean with Luſtralian water, into the wall of Jupiters Temple, which is towards the Sanctuary of Minerva, and this to be done after the nail hath three times touched the temples of the diſeaſed perſon: Then for the ſacrifice we will take ſuch order as it ſhall be in readineſs, at what hour, to morrow, you ſhall pleaſe to appoint: But, Madam, as for the election of this Soveraign, it is requiſite you make choiſe of him to day publickly, and that you give unto him a Scepter, & a Globe, as formerly they were wont at Rome: and becauſe that was a Republique, and every one had a ſhare in it, that Dictatour was choſen by the votes and ſuffrages of all the people; but in this place, where you have the ſole intereſt, you alone muſt make this election, ſo it be in publick, that every one may know your intention.

Adamas underſtanding that the Ceremony was to be performed in this manner. Madam, ſaid he unto her, knowing it your pleaſure to obſerve all theſe things, I have-taken order for all things requiſite in this election, ſo as they have already begun to erect ſcaffolds, and I aſſure my ſelf, that preſently after dinner, all things will be in readineſs. After this, the Nymph appointing the high Prieſt to take order for the ſacrifice next morning, ſhe referred the ordering of all the reſt unto the Druide, intending preſently after dinner to make this Election, unto which, the Prince Godomar, Alcedon, Damon, and Adamas, were of opinion, that it was requiſite to ſummon Polemas, to the end he might have no colour or excuſe for the Arms (which was in a low voice commonly ſpoken) that he was preparing And though the Nymph knew very well he would not come, yet ſhe approved of their opinions, and diſpatched Clindor preſently unto him.

On the other ſide, Prince Godomar thinking it neceſſary to advertiſe the Prince Sigiſmond of all paſſages, and being unwilling to imploy any of his own men, left he ſhould receive ſome courſe treatment from King Gondebaut, he beſeeched the Nymph to permit that Leontidas the ſon of Clindor might be the man; conceiving him to be man of courage and wit, and a perſon whom he might truſt in the buſineſs, ſince Dorinde lay at his houſe, and ſince he believed that ſhe had acquainted him with the cauſe of her coming.

The Nymph liked very well of it, and ſent Letters by him unto the King, unto Prince Sigiſmond, and unto the Princeſs Clotilda. Unto the King, by way of joy, for the honour ſhe received from the preſence of Prince Godomar his ſon; not taking notice that ſhe knew any thing of the cauſe which moved him thither: Unto Prince Sigiſmond, by way of aſſurance, to give Dorinde for his ſake all poſſible aſſiſtance; and unto Clotilda, to deſire the continuation of her favours. And becauſe Godomar thought that perhaps the King would not ſuffer Leontidas to ſee his brother, he adviſed him to go unto him ſecretly, if he could the night before, and to ſpeak unto Gondebaut, according to the advice of Sigiſmond: having then given him full inſtructions, and Dorindes picture, he recommended him unto the Protection of Tharamis.

Dorinde on the other ſide, who as ſhe thought had ſo much cauſe to complain againſt all men in general, and in particular againſt Sigiſmond, ſhe knew not what meſſage to ſend unto him: for when ſhe remembred how ſhe was left all night in the wood, in expectation of him, ſhe could not afford him a good thought; when ſhe conſidered what Godomar told her, ſometimes ſhe thought him partial and ſpoke in behalf of Sigiſmond, and ſometimes again ſhe excuſed him: At laſt, at the inſtance of the young Prince, ſhe ſent him a Letter by Leontidas, and entreated him to aſſure Sigiſmond that ſhe would be alwayes his ſervant, in ſpite of Fortune.

[Page]Thus the Father and the Son, Clindor and Leontidas departed both in one day: 'Tis true the Fathers journey was not far, and therefore ſooner diſpatched when he came to Surida, which was about ſome five hours after he went from Marcelles, he was amazed to ſee ſuch a confluence of Souldiers, Officers, and Cavaliers: Clindor, who knew Polemas before he was raiſed to this Grandure, and whoſe Predeceſſours were nothing inferiour unto the family of this man, he could not look upon this exceſſive arrogance without diſpiſing him: ſo as when he went unto him to deliver the Nymphs letter, and was firſt carried through a long Guard of Souldiers in File, afterwards into his antichamber and withdrawing room, where he found a great number of Cavaliers ranked into two Files to make him paſſage; he could not chuſe but ſay unto the man who conducted him, I wiſh ſome ſtranger ſaw the Train of Polemas, that they might admire at the Grandure of the Nymph Amaſis, and publiſh to the world, that her ſervants keeps as great a Court as the greateſt Kings. Polemas was all this while at the higher end of his Chamber, and no ſooner ſaw him, but with cap in hand he came and embraced him ſo kindly, that as Clindor was ill ſatisfied at his firſt entrance, yet this reception obliged him ſo, that he thought Polemas worthy of all his Grandure, ſuch a ſtrange influence has ſweetneſs courteſie upon the moſt noble and generous hearts. And indeed it was true that Polemas, amongſt the reſt of his perfections, was his Arts Maſter in Civility, Courteſy, and Complement, a quality very requiſite in ſuch as aim at Grandure above their native qualities: After the firſt Complemental Careſſes, Clindor preſented unto him a Letter from the Nymph, and withal acquainted him with her deſire of his being preſent at this Ceremony. Unto which returning no anſwer, as if it were a thing he leaft intended, he fell into ſome complaints, ſpeaking as if he had great confidence in Clindor. Dear friend, ſaid he unto him, I beſeech you conſider how ill the Nymph has us'd me of late, and what reaſon ſhe has to think me worthy of coming into her preſence: You know how dearly I loved Argenteus, as well for his merit as kindred; and yet ſhe could look on and ſee him treacherouſly murdered befoee her face: Nay more, ſhe forced me to caſhier all thoſe who oppoſed that unworthy act, as if they had done ſomething that was ignominious, and againſt her ſervice.

Then again, in lieu of chaſtiſing one Damon, that wanderer, or rather highway man, ſhe has gotten him into Marcelles, and makes a great accompt of him, as if he were not guilty of the baſeſt action that ever any Cavalier attempted. I ſet theſe things before your eyes, to the end that you being a Cavalier, may pity my diſgrace, which forces me to keep a diſtance from the Nymph, chuſing rather the ſolitude of my houſe, then to trouble her with the ſight of him who is ſo diſpleaſing unto her. Should I relate ſome other cauſes which I have, you would admire my patience, for to paſs by the infinite number of affronts which I receive every day; you know, dear friend, that you and I are Cavaliers, whoſe profeſſion is converſant in Arms and affairs of State. How is it poſſible we ſhould endure to ſee a Druide, whoſe office is only about Altars, ſit at the helm of the State, and ſtear it as he pleaſeth: To ſee him ſet and appoint Guards in Towns, to lift Souldiers, appoint commiſſioned Officers, and ſuch like, as are quite contrary to contrary to men of his coat, whilſt we ſit ſtill in our own houſes diſpiſed, and not ſo much as looked upon; and yet we ſee all theſe things in the perſon of Adamas, whom now has loſt the name of Druide, and is become a great Governour of Provinces, nay of Amaſis her ſelf. Surely we cannot look upon theſe things but with ſad eyes, and I think none doubts but that it is a moſt manifeſt injury unto me: for the Nymph has committed that charge unto me, and ſhe cannot put me out, without moſt apparent wrong: Have I any way misbehaved my ſelf? has not the ſtate enjoyed a ſerene tranquility under my regiment? Can the people complain of any ſubſidies or exactions? has any Souldier ſerved without his full pay? have I leſſened the revenues of the Exchequer [...] have any leagues or confederations been broken? Are any of our neighbour Princes diſcontented? If any one in all the ſtate, great or little can complain of any wrong that I have done, then, I am guilty, and the Nymph has reaſon to put another in my place that will ſerve her better. But when none of theſe things can be charged upon me, tell me [Page] dear Clindor, have I not juſt reaſon to complain? Yes certainly, if not againſt the Nymph, yet at leaſt againſt my bad Fortune. This grievance makes me to love my friends and my kindred, and to ſpend my time amongſt them, ſince my life has hitherto been ſpent in the ſervice of one who does not ſo much as look upon my affection; or if ſhe do ſee it, does ſcorn and reject it.

Clindor heard him out without any interruption, and let him ſay what he would, but though his words were ſmooth, and language full of candour, yet he ſaw they were ſteept in viniger, and had a hidden bitterneſs in them▪ and not being ſo ignorant in the affairs of the world, but that he had heard of his bad deſigns, eſpecially when the Nymph at parting gave him a hint thereof, that he might more particularly obſerve all his actions, he found that all his complaints had been long premeditated, and that to contradict him, would not convert him, nor do the Nymph any ſervice; and therefore without entring into any excuſe he only told him, that perhaps his complaints had not ſo juſt a ground as he imagined, nor as was reported unto him: That in love and court, abſence was a mortal enemy unto any man: That the Nymph was ſo ſweet and every way ſo good, that he might expect all deſired ſatisfaction from her: That ſhe eſteemed of him above all the reſt of her Subjects, and therefore had elevated him above all the reſt: That the demonſtration of her good will unto him was ſo great, that he could not any way ſuſpect the contrary: That her deſires of ſeeing him was an argument that ſhe ſet a higher eſteem upon him, than he was made believe by ſome ſowers of ſedition; and that to blaſt all the deſigns of ſuch ill officers, he ought to come unto Marcelles, where he might receive from the Nymph all manner of ſatisfaction and contentment, and that he ought the rather to come, left the Prince Godamar being there, ſhould aſſiſt the Nymph in this publick Action which ſhe intended.

Polemas had been already advertiſed of Prince Godomars' coming by his correſpondent; but becauſe the cauſe of his coming was kept cloſe, he could not know it: yet imagining that ſo great a Prince would not come with ſo ſmall a train, unleſs upon ſome great importance, he paſſionately deſired to underſtand what it was; but not daring to diſcover his curioſity too much unto Clindor, he conceived that their diſcourſe did give him a good occaſion to talk a little more of it. But dear friend, (ſaid he and interrupted him upon that point) what great action is that which is intended? For though I know Prince Godomar did not come thither for nothing; yet I cannot imagine what it ſhould be. The Action (replied Clindor) will be very great, for the Queen deſires that whatſoever the high Prieſt and Colledge of the Auguſtalians, ſhall command, may be exactly obſerved.

About three or four dayes ſince, a Lady whoſe name is Dorinde came unto Marcelles upon ſome occaſion, which truly I do not know; but ſo it was, that there came in her company ſome ſhepherds and ſhepherdeſſes, who brought one with them who ran mad for love. The Nymph was deſired that a nail of braſs might be driven into the wall of the Temple for him, a Ceremony which they ſay is a common cure for madneſs. Now the high Prieſt does tell her that for the driving of this nail ſhe is to make choiſe of a Soveraigne Magiſtrate, for it can be done by no other hand but his. Who do you think (ſaid Polemas) ſhe intends to chuſe for that Ceremony? I think, anſwered Clindor, ſhe is not yet reſolved: but when you come unto her ſhe will tell you, and I am confident ſhe will do nothing without your adviſe. Clindor, replied Polemas, unleſs ſhe intend utterly to diſgrace me, ſhe will not think upon any but me: For it belonging to my office ſhe cannot without extream offence prefer any other; but I perceive ſhe thinks her contempt of me not enough, unleſs it be done to my face, and therefore ſhe would have me preſent at this publick Ceremony, that all the world may laugh at me. It is enough that I have ſpent my age and my eſtate in her ſervice, and not loſe that little reputation and credit that I have amongſt men. Tell her therefore, that as long as I can, I will conceal from every one that ſmall value which ſhe ſets upon my ſervices, and that I had rather hear ſay ſhe ſlights me, then be witneſs of it. Clindor perſwaded him all he could to divert him from this reſolution, but he ſtood obſtinately upon this and beckning unto Ligonias, Pelidontes, Argonides, [Page] and Lyſander to come unto him; he acquainted them with the cauſe of Clindors coming, and with the anſwer he had ſent unto the Nymph: And all four did ſo approve of what he had done, with ſo many complaints and imaginary injuries, that at laſt he was conſtrained to come away with this anſwer, to wit, that if the Nymph would chuſe him for this ſolemn Ceremony, and gave him the title of Soveraign Magiſtrate, he would come and ſerve her with a good troop of his friends: otherwiſe, he would keep at a diſtance, and rather hear what was done, then ſee it with ſo much diſhonour to himſelf.

But in the interim, the Nymph as ſoon as ſhe had dined, carried Prince Godomar unto a great plain, where ſcaffolds were erected, and there in the preſence of all the Druids, Prieſts, Flamins, Auguſtalians and others, as alſo of all Cavaliers, Sherifs, and Majors of the Town, ſhe declared him Soveraign Dictator in all her provinces, and in order thereunto gave him a Scepter. He afterwards taking an oath to govern the State with Juſtice and equity as long as his commiſſion laſted, and not to ſpare any pains, life, or limb, in defence thereof! Then the Trumpets ſounded, and the people with ſhouts of joy accompanied him back to the caſtle, and as they paſſed through the ſtreets, though it was night, yet it was as light as day, and not a door but had two Torches burning before it.

Clindor returned when all theſe lights were ſet out, and ſuppoſing it to be for joy of this election, he hoped that the Nymph did it upon good conſideration, though he knew it would extremely incenſe the ſpirit of yonder ambitious man, When he came before Amaſis he would have given her an account of his journey but ſhe would not hear him until the Prince Godomar, Damon, Alcedon, and Adamas were preſent, who hearing the reſolution of Polemas did not wonder at it, knowing very well that he would find ſome excuſe or other for his not coming hither; but charged Clindor to be ſecret in it, for ſome reaſons which afterwards he ſhould know.

But all theſe Ceremonies were no ſooner ſolemniz'd, then Meronthes the confident of Polemas, ſent his ſon to acquaint him with it, and the arival of the Queen Argira, though he knew not her name; only let him know with what a Train ſhe came, and how ſhe was lodged in the Caſtle: All theſe things did extremely trouble him; for being ignorant of the cauſe which brought Prince Godomar thither, with the Cavaliers, which, troop after troop, followed him, and then the great number which belonged unto the Queen Argira (for the hundred ſouldiers which ſhe brought were reported to be three) he was the moſt confounded man in the world; and but for the hopes he had in the nimble wit of Climanthes, certainly he had haſtned his deſign, and attempted upon the Town: but the aſſurances he had from him, and the execution at hand, was the reaſon of retarding the buſineſs, and ſlacking his deſign wherein he had ſuch great hopes. And the rather, becauſe tomorrow was the day appointed by Leonide for Galatheas reſolution: which the Nymph remembring very well, ſhe appointed her and Silvia over night to go the next morning and know his reſolution; which they failed not to do: and becauſe they were very deſirous to be at this ſolemn ſacrifice of driving the nail (a Ceremony never ſeen before, and therefore invited with the more curioſity) they got up ſo early in the morning, that they were almoſt the firſt at the opening of the gates: and yet they found Climanthes already expecting them, at the door of his Temple, where ſeeming as if he ſaw them not; he began to adore the riſing ſun, and the heavens, and endeavoured by ſuch counterfeit devotion to get an opinion of his ſanctity. But when he perceived that they ſaw his diſſimulation, he aroſe up and came towards them. Nymphs (ſaid he unto them) the Divinity, who I adore, is pleaſed with the prayers of Galathea and the ſacrifices which I offered for her; and therefore have permitted me to go unto her, and render the Oracle which ſhe deſires, and which is one of the greateſt favours that ere was done unto any mortal. I aſſure you therefore that three dayes hence I will come about this time of the day unto the garden door which is under the Caſtle, not deſiring to be ſeen in the Town, or any places frequented, becauſe they are not conformable unto my ſolitary courſe of life; and I do give her three dayes warning to the end ſhe may prepare her ſelf with a reſolution to obſerve the [Page] commands of the Oracle: For otherwiſe, that great Deity whoſe Meſſenger and Interpreter I am, will be more incenſed againſt her, then I am able to expreſs; and therefore let her be ſure ſhe arm her ſelf with ſtrong reſolution to obey his commandments. Sage Nymphs, I know you love her, and therefore I conjure you to advertiſe her of it from me; and if by fortune you find her not inclineable thereunto, to give me notice of it, that I may not more aggravate her crime by my coming unto her. Nay, nay, anſwered Leonide, never retard that favour which the Gods intend her for that; for I aſſure you ſhe is fully reſolved not to fail in any thing; and if any thing divert her from this her reſolution, it will be only the delay of theſe three days which you prefix, and which will ſeem very long unto her. That delay (anſwered ſhe) proceeds not from me, but from the Deity which I adore; and I take it for a very good Angury; for the number of three is pleaſing unto the Gods: and to tell you truly, theſe are the three days in which that God is mute; ſo as though I would my ſelf ſpeak as I was accuſtomed unto her, yet I cannot. And for this cauſe I do not carry you at this time into his holy Temple; knowing that during theſe three days, neither Sacrifices nor Prayers are pleaſing unto him: and you ſhall ſee that if I offer to enter, as I am accuſtomed, he will ſhut the door againſt me: But fail not you to be both at the Garden door upon the day I have appointed, and you ſhall ſee that contentment which heaven is preparing for her, as a reward of her obedience.

Upon this he haſted up the ſtairs towards his Temple, for he thought that if he ſtayed any longer, the door would ſhut of it ſelf: and it hapned as he thought; for he was no ſooner ready to ſet his foot in the door, but it ſhut violently upon him.

Leonide and Silvia did know very well that this man was an Impoſtor, yet for all that, they were afraid; having an opinion, that under a colour of ſanctity, he dealt with the Divel: And, as if heaven took delight in augmenting their fears, it hapned that when they were near the gardens of Marcelles, through which they could paſs into the Baſe Court of the Caſtle, without coming into the Town, preſently they ſpied a man, who knowing them a far off, came running to them; and as ſoon as he overtook them, fell down upon his knees before Silvia, and endeavoured to kiſs her hand. The Nymph no ſooner caſt her eye upon him, but ſhe cryed out, Oh good Gods, See where the ſoul of Ligdamon is! Ligdamon! replyed Leonide (and was worſe affrighted then her Companion) oh Heavens! it is ſo, and began to run away as faſt as ever her legs could carry her to the Garden door, which by chance ſhe found open; and ſhe had run her ſelf ſo out of breath, that as ſoon as ſhe was two paces within the door, ſhe fell down, as if ſhe had been half dead: Silvia in the mean time ſeeing her ſelf alone, and held by this man, whom ſhe thought to be a Ghoſt, was ſo extreamly affrighted, that ſhe fell into a ſwoond. The man ſeeing her in this pitiful condition, he was ſtruck almoſt as dead as ſhe ſeemed to be; he fell down upon his knees, called unto her, and pinched her to bring her again unto her ſelf. She upon this opening her eyes, and ſtill feeling him, cryed out, and fell into her fit again; he ſtill called upon her, and ſtill pinched her, but all would not do any good; for her fears this ſecond time were ſuch, as indeed did put her in danger of death. At which the man was ſo affrighted, that he roſe up, and ran to call for help, or at leaſt, to fetch ſome water to throw upon her; and ſeeing a houſe not far from thence, he ran thither: But as good luck was, he was no ſooner out of ſight, but Silvia came to her ſelf; and not ſeeing this Ghoſt which put her into this fright, ſhe roſe up and ran as faſt as ever ſhe could unto the Garden door, which ſhe ſaw open, and as ſhe was ſhutting the door, ſhe ſpied the man running after her as faſt as he could, yet ſo far off, that ſhe had time enough to make faſt the door, and get into the Caſtle, where ſhe found Leonide in ſuch apprehenſions of fear, as ſhe was not able to utter a word.

But when ſhe ſaw Silvia, Oh Siſter, ſaid ſhe, I am very glad you are eſcaped out of the enchantments of this wicked man. Silvia half beſides her wits, Ah Siſter (ſaid ſhe) would you run away, and leave me in ſo great a danger? All their companions ſeeing them thus affrighted, ask'd to know what the matter was? [Page] But for all their diſorder they would not tell, having this conſideration with them, that perhaps it might he prejudicial to the ſervice of the Nymph.

Galathea was preſently acquainted with it, and thinking that Climanthes was wicked enough to do them ſome harm, ſhe went unto them in their chamber where they were: when they ſaw her, they cheered up themſelves as well as they could, yet looked as if they were newly come out of their graves. Galathea not willing to ask them any queſtions before ſo much company as was preſent, ſhe took them by their hands, and commanded the reſt all to withdraw: And then, Come (ſaid ſhe unto them) I ſee you both extreamly affrighted, what is the cauſe of it? Madam (anſwered Leonide) the strangeſt encounter that ever was: for the man unto whom you ſent us, I think has a thouſand Divels at his command: After we had ſpoke with him, and he promiſed to be here the third day, and when we thought we had been quite out of his hands, he ſent the Ghoſt of Ligdamon after us, who took my companion by the hand, and put us into ſuch a fright, that if we had not luckily found the garden door open, we had died. For my part, I ran away, and cannot tell how my companion eſcaped out of his hands. Truly (ſaid Silvia) I followed your example, taking my ſelf to my legs; and 'twas well I did ſo; for I ſaw him running after us, and would certainly have followed us hither, if I had not been ſo couragious as to ſhut the door after me. All which the Nymph hearing, and knowing it to be nothing but fancy ſhe began to laugh at the fears wherein they were; and leaving them to reſt themſelves, ſhe went unto Amaſis, unto whom ſhe related all ſhe heard; whereat ſhe was not a little aſtoniſhed: And whilſt they were in talk of theſe things, one came to tell the Nymph that the Sacrifice was ready, and that the Nails of Braſs were waſhed clean and pure with the Luſtralian water: ſo as the Prince Godomar expected only the Queen Argira, who at laſt came, holding the Princeſs Roſanira by the hand; who was ſo fair that day, as ſhe raviſhed the eyes of all thoſe that looked upon her; her Dreſs was modeſt, and by reaſon of her affliction, rather too much, then too little; but ſo neat and handſome, that envie it ſelf could not find the leaſt fault: ſhe leaned upon the arm of Roſilion, whoſe countenance was very ſad, and his looks ſomthing wilde, but by his walk and garb, and all the reſt of his actions, appeared to be of no mean extraction. There was very few that knew him, for the Queen deſired it ſo; ſo as for a long time together, nothing could be heard amongſt all the aſſembly, but enquiry who they were; but none being able to ſatisfie their curioſity, they all ſet themſelves to behold the ceremony.

Firſt came ten Trumpetters, who from time to time ſounded all together. Next them, followed men who were crowned with flowers, and in habits trimm'd all over with Violets, dancing before the Victims, carrying in their hands little Daggers, which they knocked againſt one another to a kind of Tune: After them came the carriers of Baſins and Diſhes to receive the blood of the Victims: after them followed many Victimaries with axes, hatches, and ſeveral other Inſtruments to ſlay the Victims, all having caps of flowers upon their heads: Next followed the Victims, which were ſeven Oxen to be offered unto Jupiter, and as many unto Minerva, with guilded horns, and dreſſed over with Garlands of Flowers: Theſe Victims were followed by ſome Sacrifices, one of them carrying the Veſſel that held the Luſtralian water, who followed a Flamin, who with a branch of Miſleto ſprinkled this holy water upon all the Aſſiſtants; Another carried a box of Aromatique Drugs, as Incenſe, Myrrh, and Aloes; Another carried upon his head a veſſel of Wine, which was to be uſed in the Sacrifice: another carryed ſalt, and another honey, and another water: After all theſe, followed twelve Players upon Flutes, and ſome Choriſters, who ſung Hymns in praiſe of Jupiter and Minerva. Next followed the Epulian Triomvires, who are thoſe that were wont to tell the people when they ought to make any Banquets unto the Gods: After theſe followed the Flamins; the laſt of which was Diale the Flamin of Jupiter, with his cap made of white wool, and in a Surplice of fineſt Linnen, ſo pure and white, that not the leaſt ſpot appeared in it. Afterwards came the Colledge of Augures, each having in their hands an Augurian ſtaf. Laſt of all came the high Prieſt, with moſt comly gravity, clad in a garment of white linnen, this Surplice of pureſt white hung [Page] down to the ground; he had upon his head a kind of cap, which might rather be called a Vail, hanging down on both ſides; He held in one hand his Croſier, and in the other his Paſtoral ſtaff; on each ſide of him was two Flamins, who carried in their hands a great Nail of Braſs, which had been purified and conſecrated.

After all this pomp, the Prince Godomar came all alone, with a Crown upon his head, and a Scepter in his hand, and following him a great croud of Cavaliers and Souldiers.

In this order they came unto the Temple, where the Queen Argira, the Nymph, Roſanira, and the reſt of the Ladies were with Roſilion and Adraſtes: and every one having taken their places, Proclamation was made that all ſhould keep ſilence upon pain of puniſhment:

Then the Flamin Diale, who was Sacrificer that day, called for the Luſtralian water, and after he had waſhed his hands, did ſprinkle it upon all that were to be aſſiſtants at the Sacrifice; then falling down upon his knees, he confeſſed himſelf to be a man poluted with many ſins, and begged a pardon of the Gods, not only for his own, but for the ſins of all the Aſſiſtants; then taking a Torch which was made of Virgins wax, which was lighted at a clear burning fire, he kindled the wood that was upon the Altar; and commanding the Victims to be brought near, he turned towards the eaſt ſide of the Altar: He firſt invoked Janus and Veſta, and afterwards Jupiter, calling him Father, Omnipotent, and Good; and after him he invoked all the reſt of the Gods. Afterwards addreſſing his prayer particularly unto Jupiter and Minerva, he declared that it was unto them only this Sacrifice was offered: And theſe were the words of his prayer, which a Flamin pronounced after him word for word.

OH moſt great and good Father, Son of Saturn, Jupiter omnipotent, the beginning and ending of all; who art fulneſs in the ſelf, who art every where, in all, and above all: The Creator, Preſerver, and Director of the world; the Deſtiny upon whom the order of things depend; the Nature which produceth all things; thy Providence which foreſees all things; the Eternity, that was before, and will be after all things. Oh thou Jove, who for the benefit of Mortals, conceived Minerva in thy Brain: Oh most mighty Minerva! who teaches mortals to be wiſe, to judge juſtly, and to do rightly. Goddeſs of eternal Virginity, Phyſician unto thoſe who are deprived of their underſtandings. Receive, oh Great and Omnipotent Deities! the Prayers and Sacrifice which Amaſis our great Nymph does offer unto you, for the ſafety and welfare of her ſelf and people: and becauſe there is nothing in the whole Univerſe more pleaſing unto you then man, and nothing in man more then the Underſtanding: Grant, Oh Great and Good Jupiter, and oh Goddeſs of Prudence and Underſtanding, Minerva the requeſt which this great Nymph makes unto you; That thoſe ſacred Nails which the Prince Godomar, our Protector, and as Soveraign Magiſtrate is to drive, according unto your Ordinances, may obtain for Roſilion and Adraſtes, the ſame favour which Oreſtes formerly obtained near the City of Githea, when ſitting upon thy Stone, Oh Jupiter! he was cured of his diſtraction.

After theſe words were uttered in a loud and ſo diſtinct a voice, that all, or moſt of the people might hear as they were upon their knees; he cauſed the Victims to be brought near, he cut off the hair which grow between their horns, and caſt it into the fire, which was the firſt beginning of the Sacrifice: Afterwards he turned towards the Eaſt, and commanded the Victimaries to do their offices, which they did accordingly: Then he viewed the Intrals, and found the Hearts, the Livers, [Page] and the Brains very ſound, yet of a more dusky colour then uſual, but not to affright the Aſſembly, they took no notice of them, becauſe it portended diſſentions, wars, and tumults. After the Victims were viewed, the fat of them was burned and conſumed upon the Altars; and they poured out wine and oyl, and ſprinkled Incenſe thereupon: The fire burned till all was conſumed, but they obſerved the flame to be blew like brimſtone, and not burning upwards like a waving Piramide, but as if it were depreſſed with wind, which yet would ſome times flaſh out into extraordinary flames: The ſmoak was thick, dusky, and obſcure, ſmothering downwards, and not aſcending as uſual. At which being aſtoniſhed, they looked amongſt the Wood, to ſee whether there was any that was forbidden; as the Olive, the Lawrel, the Oak, and ſuch fat kinds of wood; but they found all to be dry, and very right; which put them into greater fears: but thoſe fears vaniſhed, when at laſt they ſaw the fire burn clear, the ſmoak thin, and aſcending, and the Victims all conſumed, with as good an odour as they could deſire.

The ſacrifice was no ſooner ended, and the Flamin had no ſooner pronounced the laſt word, but the high Prieſt taking the ſacred Nails, did waſh them anew with the Luſtralian water, and offered them unto Jupiter and Minerva: Then he preſented them unto Prince Godomar, who taking them with all reverence and devotion, made ſome private prayers; and afterwards touched the temples of Roſilion and Adraſtes; which was a thing not eaſie to be done without the Princeſs Roſanira, and the Shepherdeſs Doris: But Roſilion did ſo much reſpect the one, and Adroſtes the other, that they durſt not diſobey whatſoever they commanded. When the Prince Godomar was going to drive the Nails, Palemon went to the corner of the Altar: For my part (ſaid he in a loud voice) I do make a moſt ſolemn vow, that if it will pleaſe the great Gods to grant our requeſt which now we ask, I will not deny the firſt thing which ſhall be asked of me, be it what it will, if it be within the compaſs of my power. The Officer who recorded all ſolemn vows, did write down this of Palemon, and many obſerved that Roſanira looked upon the Queen Argira, as if ſhe expected the like from her; which the Queen perceiving, ſhe alſo roſe up, and went unto the Altar: And I (ſaid ſhe, as loud as ſhe could ſpeak) who am a Queen, and the Wife and Mother of Kings, I do promiſe and vow, oh great Jupiter and Minerva, that if you grant the petition which I now make unto you, I will employ all the power and forces of thoſe Kingdoms which are in ſubjection to me, my husband, and my ſon, in maintenance of the Nymph Amaſis, and her Dominions, againſt all thoſe that ſhall offer any injury unto them or her. The people hearing this Vow, and wondering at it, would have broke out into acclamations of joy, but their reſpect unto the ſacrifice hindred them. In the mean while, the Prince Godomar holding the Nail in his left hand, and a hammer in his right, being directed by the high Prieſt, and the Flamin Diale, he went towards the wall which was towards the Sanctuary of Minerva; and there calling thrice upon the names of Jupiter and Minerva, he drove the Nails to the very head: But to ſee the wonderous effects! upon the very firſt blows that were ſtruck, Roſilion and Adraſtes fell to the ground as if they were dead, and ſo continued until the Prince Godomar came unto them, and till the Flamin ſprinkled ſome Luſtralian water upon them; then they came to themſelves, as if they had waked out of a dead ſleep. Roſilion opening his eyes, and ſeeing ſo many Flamins, and other people about him, did think himſelf at firſt in a dream, for he had quite loſt the memory of all he had done, during the time of his diſtraction. But Verances ſtanding by him, and taking him by the hand, Sir (ſaid he unto him) do you not ſee the Princeſs Roſanira coming towards you? If you do not make good haſte, ſhe will find you lying upon the Ground. How? ſaid he, will Roſanira take ſo much pains as to come unto me? Upon this riſing up, he ſaw her cloſe by him, with the Queen Argira; and he not knowing the Queen, he went to ſalute Roſanira, as if he had not ſeen her ſeven years before: But Roſanira taking him by the hand, Roſilion (ſaid ſhe unto him) firſt ſalute this great Queen, unto whom you are obliged as much as ever any Cavalier can be: Upon this he kneeled down, and would have kiſſed her hand; but the Queen would not ſuffer him, but embracing him with tears in her eyes, Roſilion (ſaid ſhe unto him) [Page] let us all render thanks unto the gods for freeing you from your enchantment: Enchantment! (replied he all amazed) what enchantment do you mean? you ſhall know hereafter anſwered ſhe; but in the mean time, let us expreſs our gratitude, as both you and I are obliged, and taking him by the hand ſhe carried him to the altar: then preſently after ſhe took Roſanira and him into a coach, and went unto the Caſtle, it being ſo reſolved upon by the Nymph and the Prince Godomar, left if Roſilion had ſtayed any longer amongſt all the company, he might fall into ſome fancy of his being diſtracted, which perhaps might be prejudiciall unto him, having been ſo lately recovered. It was very diſcreetly ſaid of the Queen Argira, when ſhe phraſed his diſeaſe, inchantment: for had ſhe ſaid he had been mad, it might perhaps have diſtracted him again.

In the mean time Adraſtes was ſo aſtoniſhed, to ſee ſuch abundance of people about him, and eſpecially ſo many Nymphs and Cavaliers looking upon him and ſaying nere a word, as he knew not how to behave himſelf: Afterwards looking upon his clothes and ſeeing himſelf ſo ragged, not remembring any thing that was paſt; Friend (ſaid he unto Palemon, who held him by the hand) what is the matter, and where am I? Adraſtes (anſwered he and ſtill held him by the arm) give thanks unto the gods for making you a man again this ſecond time. The poor ſhepherd holding up his hands, and turning towards the altar, he fell down upon his knees and did as Palemon adviſed him: ſo all the aſſembly ſeeing the gods accepted of their ſacrifice and prayers, they ſhouted for joy, and ſang hymns in praiſe of Jupiter and Minerva: In the mean time Palemon taking him aſide into a by room in the Temple, he deſired him to put on thoſe clothes which he had prepared for him.

On the other ſide, the high Prieſt accompanied with thoſe who had viewed the victimes, and conſidered the burning of the fire, told the Nymph that as they found by the intrels and burning of the fire, the ſtate was menaced with many troubles and great rebellions, the iſſue whereof was indeed like to be happy, if by her prudence ſhe gave a timely prevention. Upon which information ſhe held up her hands, and beſeeched the gods to impoſe no greater a burthen on her then ſhe was able to ſuſtain, that they would pardon all the ſins of the Nation, and not puniſh according to merit: After this ſhe went towards the Caſtle with the Prince Godomar, and all the ſtrangers, who could not enough admire the prudence of the Nymph, and the wiſdome that appeared in all her actions.

In the mean time Polemas, who had his ſpies in every corner, was advertiſed of all the paſſages concerning this Ceremony, as well of the election of Prince Godomar, as the recovery of the two diſtracted perſons; and alſo of Queen Argiras expreſſions of intereſting her ſelf in the Protection of the Nymph, when ſhe declared her ſelf to be a Queen: He was advertiſed alſo of one Dorinde, a Lady that fled into Marcelles; but though he heard of the combate about her, upon the banks of Lignon, yet he knew not the cauſe: and when he was thinking ſeriouſly upon theſe things, he was advertiſed of ſome Cavaliers, ſtrangers, who deſired to ſpeak with him, and who came as they ſaid, from King Gondebaut. Polemas commanded they ſhould enter, and after a very honourable reception of them, the chief of them ſpoke thus.

The King my maſter Sir, who loves you as well as any neighbour he hath, has ſent me to acquaint you that he hath great occaſion to complain againſt the Nymph Amaſis, who values his friendſhip at ſo low a rate, as that ſhe harbours within her Dominions, thoſe who have moſt traiterouſly aſſaſſinated Clorantes, the Captain of his Guard, who would have took out of their hands a woman which run away from the Princeſs Clotilda, after ſhe had committed moſt foul crimes, which are unfit to be publiſhed in reſpect of the Princeſs honour: And though the Prince Godomar, whom he diſclaims for his ſon, be the chief of thoſe againſt whom he complains, yet he conceives the Nymph ought not to receive ſuch runagate ſubjects of his without his conſent: he hath ſent me to make theſe complaints unto you, and commanded me to tell you that he would gladly live in peace with his friends, and that offences committed againſt their wills, ſhall not make any ſeparation betwixt him and them; and therefore if you think it expedient, [Page] I will go unto Marcelles; and declare unto the Nymph how much the King my maſter is offended; I will demand from her a reſtitution of Prince Godomar and Dorinde, or elſe declare open war: And in teſtimony that all I ſay is true, here Sir, is a Letter from the King my Maſter unto you. Upon this Polemas took the Letter: Cavalier, anſwered he, I am very ſorry the Nymph has given any cauſe of diſcontent unto that great King: If ſhe would be ruled by my advice, no ſuch complaints ſhould ever be; but truly theſe new Councellours go upon Maximes which are much contrary unto mine, and ſuch truly as I do not underſtand; I pray god ſhe do not repent of them when it is too late. Then opening the Letter which he found to be a Letter of Credence. The King (ſaid he unto the Cavalier) tells me I may believe whatſoever you ſhall ſay unto me from him, and therefore ſpeak freely your mind, for there is no Prince upon the earth whom I take to be my maſter but yours. The ſtranger, upon this, thanked for his favourable declaration, and beſeeched that he might ſpeak unto him in a place where there was fewer witneſſes. Polemas then taking him by the hand he carried him into a private cloſſet, and ſhut the door.

The ſtranger then began to ſpeak, and told him of the Kings affection unto Dorinde (yet in as favourable a ſenſe for his Maſter as poſſibly he could) of the love of the Prince Sigiſmond unto the ſame woman: of the Kings juſt anger, when he heard that the Prince intended to marry her; of the Kings deſign in marrying her unto Periander or Merindor, to divert that Prince: of the detention of that Prince: of the Kings command unto Clorantes to follow her: of Prince Godomars going out of Lyons with many Cavaliers: of Ardilans death, whom the Prince Godomar killed at the gate of the Town; and briefly, how Clorantes was killed with almoſt all his company, as he was in queſt of Dorinde, whom he found in the habit of a Shepherdeſs upon the banks of Lignon. Now Sir (continued he) the King is informed that this Dorinde, and the Prince Godomar, are fled into Marcelles, and that the Nymph hath promiſed to protect them: How? to protect them, ſaid Polemas, hath ſhe inveſted the Prince Godomar with abſolute Authority in all her Dominions? Yes Sir, replied the ſtranger, and hath thereby ſo diſobliged the King; that he is fully determined to come himſelf and fetch him out of Marcelles.

But that you may know how much you are obliged unto the King, he lets you know that this is the nick of time to put your generous deſign into execution: for Clidamant is dead: How (ſaid Polemas) is Clidamant dead? why Sir (ſaid the ſtranger) did you not know that before? It is long ſince the King ſent you word of it, but I verily believe the Letter which imported it, was intercepted by the death of Clorantes: but be pleaſed to know that dead he is, and Lindamor ſo wounded, that there is no hopes of his life, alſo all thoſe that were under his conduct are ſquandered and gone.

O heavens! (ſaid Polemas) this is news beyond my hopes: now Sir, (ſaid the ſtranger) the King to teſtifie his affection unto you, will under colour of Prince Godomar and Dorinde, raiſe a great Army againſt the Nymph, and will himſelf in perſon come and beſiege Marcelles: he will inveſt you with the Soveraign Authority, make you Count of the Seguſians, and content himſelf that you ſhould only hold it of him, as Duke and Earl of the Burgundians, thinking your merits and affection unto him alwayes expreſſed, does deſerve no leſs then his aſſiſtance upon this occaſion.

The joyes and thanks of Polemas were great, and his promiſes and proteſtations were greater: but indeed his joyes were extream, for Clidemant and Lindamor were two great rubs unto him, the one to his ambition, and the other to his affection: and they being thus removed, gave him aſſured hopes in his deſigne. He deſired the ſtranger therefore, that he might impart this news unto four of his friends, whoſe advice he uſed in all affairs: and calling for Ligonias, Peledontes, Argonides, and Liſtander, he related the whole matter unto them, whereat they ſeemed ſo extremely tranſported with joy, that they were hardly themſelves. At laſt, it was reſolved upon that this Cavalier ſhould go unto the Nymph, and demand the Prince Godomar and Dorinde; and in caſe ſhe would not reſtore them, as [Page] they verily believed ſhe would not, then to declare war from the King of the Burgundians; and leſt he ſhould receive any harm either in going or coming Polemas ſhould appoint him a Convoy of ſix Troops of Horſe; So in this reſolution they parted.

The ſame night Climanthes came to Polemas, to relate unto him all that he had ſaid unto Leonide and Silvia: But Polemas having not ſo much patience as to hear out all his diſcourſe, he embraced him: Oh my dear friend (ſaid he unto him) I have other kind of news to impart unto you: Clidemant and Lindamore are dead with all their men, and the King of the Burgundians will come himſelf and make me Count of the Seguſians, contenting himſelf that I ſhould only acknowledge him to be Lord Paramont, as Duke and Earl of the Burgundians. The death of Clidemant and Lindamore (anſwered Climanthes very faintly) falls out very happily for our deſign; but let me tell me, that in my opinion, ſo is not the coming of the Burgundian King; for Ambition is a monſtrous glutton, and is never ſatisfied: Now objects will move new appetites: There is not in all Gaul a more pleaſant Province then this; Galathea is very fair, Gondebaut is of an amorous complexion; moreover, he has two ſons who are not married; Theſe Interviews are dangerous: for my part, I like of his ſending aid, but not of his coming: Do you think that when he is once in Marcelles, and tryumphant, that he will then care for you? The Prize is yours already, Sir, ſince Clidemant and Lindamore are dead, why then ſhould you let another ſhare with you? The enterprize may be done without him, who can reſiſt you? Therefore Sir, if you will be ruled by me, let him not come, unleſs you have a mind to make your ſelf greater enemies then thoſe you have loſt. This was the opinion of the crafty Climanthes, with whom the four Confidents concurred, when they were call to Councely and thought it expedient by all means to hide their miſtruſt, and to find out ſome handſome excuſe for it: As that it was not honourable for ſo great a King to venture his perſon for ſuch a trifle, no nor ſafe for his crown, it being to be feared, that in his abſenſe his ſons might raiſe commotions in the State.

After this courſe was reſolved upon, and the Cavalier had declared war in the name of the King his maſter, it was then time to ſcour up their Arms, and make all preparations without delay: Climanthes adviſed, that they ſhould give him leave to go and ſpeak with the Nymph Galathea; for (ſaid he) if fair means will bring your deſires to paſs, why ſhould you ruine a Country by war, which is to be your own? I conceive it expedient indeed to have all things in readineſs, and if any way take not effect, then within two days after to force thoſe feeble walls, which I think will be eaſily done upon the firſt aſſault; for I cannot believe they are able to man them: beſides, the party in the Town that is for us, does promiſe to open us a Port when we will: Polemas was very much againſt the going of Climanthes unto Galathea, thinking it to be too dangerous for him; for (ſaid he) aſſure your ſelf that Adamas hath ſeen the Letter which King Gondebaut ſent unto me, and which was loſt when Clorantes was killed; and you ſee that they are more ſtrict in their guard of their Town then they are wont to be; therefore I am in fear they know ſomthing of our deſigne; and if they do, you run extream danger of ill treatment, which would be a moſt extream grief to my ſoul. But Climanthes who thought himſelf ſo ſubtle that none could over-reach him; No, no Sir (anſwered he) never trouble your ſelf for me, but aſſure your ſelf I ſhall be cunning enough for them all. Theſe Nymphs cannot catch me, I warrant you, and had you ſeen and heard them, as I did, you would let that be the leaſt of your fears: As for the Letters, I believe they may be intercepted; but though they be, they will not hurt us: If they do not know of the death of Clidemant and Lindamore, I will acquaint them; for it will ſooner bring them to our deſigne, ſeeing themſelves deprived of ſuch ſupport: And if they did know of it, why did they not do me ſome miſchief all this while ſince Clorantes was ſlain?

Upon theſe reaſons, and ſome others, they reſolved to let him go; and if he failed, to fall upon the Town two days after. In order thereunto, Polemas commanded his four confidents to have all things in readineſs, as well Foot Forces, as Horſe, eſpecially the Artillery, which was moſt neceſſary for an aſſault of a Town, [Page] and with which they would begin: Alſo intelligence was given unto Meronthes, who was within the Town, that when they began to compaſs the Town about with their Army, he ſhould open unto them the Port that was towards Mount Briſon, which, with his friends he might eaſily do, becauſe all the Townſmen would be ſo taken up in reſiſting the Aſſault, as they would be all upon the walls.

They were all ready to ſeparate, and take ſeveral orders for all things neceſſary, when Climanthes ſtayed them; What will you ſay (ſaid he unto them) if I make you all maſters of what you deſire, without a blow? I will ſay (anſwered Polemas) that you are Climanthes, that is, the wiſeſt and beſt contriver of things of any man alive. Then (ſaid the Impoſtor) aſſure your ſelves that within theſe three days I will make you poſſeſſors of what you wiſh. To day (ſaid he, and counted the days upon his fingers) King Gondebauts Cavalier it talking unto Amaſis; to morrow I will go and act my part, and the day after Galathea is infallibly yours: And thus it will be brought to paſs. I have already told you how extreamly ſhe deſires to ſpeak with me, to the end (as ſhe ſays) ſhe may the better conform her ſelf unto the Will of that God which ſhall ſpeak by my mouth: I know that whatſoever I ſhall ſay, will be moſt exactly obſerved; for I will threaten her with ſo many horrible puniſhments in caſe of diſobedience, that I dare lay my life ſhe dares do no other; and my intention is to tell her, that at ſuch a time ſhe ſhall not fail to be at Termes, where the four ways meet, which is not above a mile from the Garden door, and that he whom the Gods have ordained ſhe ſhould marry, ſhall be the firſt that ſhall paſs by her in the habit of a Hunter; doubtleſs ſhe will come without any company but Leonide and Silvia; and then, if you ſeem as if you rode that way to hunt, what will hinder you from taking that Fair Prize? When Galathea is in your hands, may you not marry her the next day? Is not your deſigne then accompliſhed, and the war ended in three days? I muſt confeſs (ſaid Polemas) that if you can do as you ſay, the work is done; for ſhe being my wife, as I am fully reſolved to marry her that very hour, then who can diſpute with me for the Seignory of this State? And I promiſe you, if ever that happineſs come to paſs, I will quickly aboliſh that fooliſh Law, which excludes males from the Soveraign Power.

But on the other ſide, Leonide and Silvia were ſo pitifully affrighted, that they thought the Ghoſt of Ligdamon hunted them continually: Adamas hearing of it, went unto them, to put them out of thoſe ſimple fears; but for all that they were ſtill ſo affrighted, that as oft as Ligdamon was named, they trembled. This were a ſtrange encounter (ſaid the Druide) if Leonide and Silvia ſhould turn mad, the ſame day that Roſilion and Adraſtes are cured. In the mean time, as they were talking of nothing but this Viſion in the Caſtle, and many laughing at the Nymphs being ſo affrighted, a great noiſe was heard below in the Court, and looking out, they ſaw ſome run one way, and ſome another, and ſaying nothing but Ligdamon, Ligdamon. The Nymphs that were with Leonide and Silvia, and laughing at them, hearing that Ligdamon was there, they all fled away as faſt as they could, ſome ran to ſave themſelves in Galatheas chamber, and ſome into the chamber of Amaſis: As the women were affrighted, ſo were ſome of the men: and the Guard at the Caſtle Gates knowing Ligdamon, and ſeeing him to come towards them, whom they thought to be dead; they all ran away, and left the Gates open. Adamas ſeeing every one to run in this manner, was afraid left this panique fear ſhould be the umbrage of ſome Treaſon; and therefore going as faſt as he could to the Gates, he found them open, and all the Guard fled, which did much aſtoniſh him: But ſeeing ſome of his own men coming from the Town, he beckned unto them to make haſte, to ſhut the Gates, and to guard them till the Souldiers returned.

And becauſe he ſtill heard the cry in the Caſtle, he went to ſee what was the true cauſe of it. In the mean time Ligdamon who had cauſed all this terror and confuſion, finding the Gates open, he entred, much wondering to ſee every one fly from him, and cry out ſo pitifully. He knowing all the rooms in the Caſtle, being brought up in it from his Infancy, he went ſtraight unto the chamber of the Nymph Amaſis; and becauſe the Uſhers of the Chamber had command to keep [Page] the door ſhut, they did not only lock it, but alſo blocked it up with chairs and tables, ſo as when Ligdamon came he found all faſt, and not daring to be ſo bold as to knock, he waited until ſome came out. The Nymph Amaſis, Galathea and others, being advertiſed that he was at the door of the Antichamber, they trembled for fear, and one who was the ſtouteſt amongſt them, peeping through the key hole, and ſeeing it was he, they all fled away, crying it was he, it was he.

The noiſe continued ſo long, before any had the courage to go out, that Egides who had ſerved him a long while, and whom Silvia ever ſince did keep with her, paſſing from the chamber of his Miſtreſs unto that of the Nymph, and looking as the reſt did, through the keyhole, he looked upon him: O good god (ſaid he) it is my dear Maſter; and running preſently out at another door, for they would not let him go out at that, he went unto him: ſome of the affrighted wowomen would have hindred him, telling him his maſter was dead: I know he is, anſwered he, but no matter, I love his ſoul as well as his body, and am ſure that nothing which is his will hurt me. In this reſolution this faithful ſervant ran to him, and kiſſed his hand, with ſuch a flood of tears in his eyes, that he could not utter a word, but ah my dear maſter: Ligdamon on the other ſide embraced him with extream contentment, and when he could ſpeak, Egides (ſaid he unto him) what is the reaſon that every one thus flies from me? O Sir, anſwered he, who can chuſe but be affrighted to ſee you ſo unexpectedly, your death being publiſhed by me who ſaw you dead. Why then, ſaid Ligdamon, didſt not thou ſhun me as well as the reſt? I Sir, anſwered he, why ſhould I ſhun you, that would moſt willingly follow you in death, and doubtleſs had done ſo, but for diſobeying that command which you impoſed upon me with your dying breath: well (ſaid he) didſt thou then deliver my Letter unto the fair Silvia? I did, anſwered he, and more then that, I told her all that you commanded me, and related unto her the whole ſtory of your death.

The Nymphs all this while, who looked upon them through the key hole and heard them talk, they began to take heart. Adamas at the ſame time came alſo to the door of the antichamber, where finding Ligdamon, he was a little ſuprized, yet ſtill a perſon of judgement and reſolution: Ligdamon (ſaid he unto him) I charge thee in the name of Tautates, that if thou beeſt a Ghoſt, to return unto thy eternal reſt, and leave this place in quietneſs: Sir (anſwered Ligdamon and ſmiled) I ſhould be glad to be a Ghoſt, to meet with that reſt which yet I could never find: But know, that I am the very ſame Ligdamon whom formerly you have ſeen, and whom the great God hath raiſed from death to life, to ſhew, that as men come into the world by his appointment, ſo they cannot go out of it, until it be his pleaſure: upon this Adamas embraced him with open arms, and was extremely joyed, for Ligdamons virtue got himſelf the love of all.

At this great noiſe, the Prince Godomar, Alcedon, and many other Cavaliers, came to the Nymphs chamber door to ſee what the matter was: The Nymph hearing that the Prince Godomar, Adamas, and Alcedon, and many others had ſpoken with him, ſhe took courage, and commanded the doors to be ſet open, but neither ſhe nor Galathea would have ſuffered him to come near, if the Prince Godomar by one hand, and Adamas by the other, had not preſented him unto them Is it poſſible Madam (ſaid Ligdamon, and humbly kneeled down) that I ſhould be here in this place taken for another, and not be known to be my ſelf? We in this countrey (ſaid Amaſis and commanded him to riſe up) are ſo ſeldome uſed to ſee any raiſed from the dead, that we could not but wonder to ſee Ligdamon have that priviledge; but thanks be to god, the man who brought us the news of your death proves a lyer, and if ever any lye was welcome unto us, it is this▪ I would to God Madam (anſwered he) that this life of mine, which is preferred, might be loſt in doing you any ſervice: yet be pleaſed to know that Egides was no lyer when he told the fair Silvia I was dead for I commanded him ſo to do▪ and knew him ſo faithful that he would not fail me; and yet (ſaid the Nymyh) thanks be to god, you are alive, how then could you aſſure her that you were dead, unleſs he were a lyer? Madam (replied Ligdamon) did I not fear I ſhould [Page] be over tedious, I could tell you how. Well; replied ſhe, I will leave you with Galathea, Silvia, and the reſt of the Ladies; they have not ſo much buſineſs upon them as I; pray tell them, and let them relate unto me at night. Upon this, the Nymph, Prince Godomar, Alcedon, and Adamas, went unto the Queen Argira: and in the mean time Ligdamon, after a thouſand Careſſes from the Nymphs, he was conducted by Galathea unto Damon, who was almoſt well recovered, and began to walk up and down his chamber, and alſo did paſſionately deſire to ſee him.

After all civil complements and ſalutations, Galathea deſired him to tell the reaſon why Egides did falſly report his death unto Silvia. Madam, anſwered he, I deſire nothing more then to obey you, but I cannot poſſibly tell you the ſtory, before I ſee her that is the cauſe of it. Why? replied Galathea, have you not yet ſeen Silvia? upon this ſhe commanded Leonide to bring her thither: I believe, anſwered Leonide, it will be as great a difficulty, as it was this morning to drive the ſacred nails: Alas (ſaid Ligdamon) is it impoſſible to mollifie her obdurate heart, both living and dead? Do not complain (ſaid Galathea and ſmiled) until you have ſeen her: I am afraid Madam, replied he, that ſight will make it worſe, and not only hinder me from complaining, but from living. Love, replied the Nymph, does allow that perſon to love, who is loved: O Madam, cryed out Ligdamon, that general does hold in any but in Silvia, for never was any more loved then ſhe. Then, ſaid the Nymph, let it ſo continue: My affection, replied he, is no leſs then an eternity, and I have loved her in the cradle, and in the grave: all this is not enough, replied the Nymph, unleſs ſhe knew as much: Is it poſſible Madam, replied Ligdamon, ſhe can be ignorant of it? both my life and my death hath told her of it. Aſſure your ſelf, replied Galathea, that if you do love her well, and that ſhe does perfectly know it, ſhe will pay unto you that tribute which love does exact from all true lovers, provided ſtill you perſevere, and be not weary. As Ligdamon was ready to reply, Silvia came into the chamber with Leonide, and with ſuch a lively aſpect, as made it apparent that the return of this Cavalier was not diſpleaſing unto her, yet with ſo much modeſty, that ſhe was as much admired for it as for her beauty: for every one had heard that ſhe did extremely grieve and lament his loſs, and at that very time did ſeem ſilently to ſigh: but now, when againſt all her hopes ſhe ſaw him returned, he ſeemed unto her as a perſon only indifferent. When ſhe came firſt into the room, Ligdamon looked upon Galathea, as if he had begged leave to ſalute her in her preſence.

The Nymph who underſtood his looks, did ſignifie unto him by her looks again, that ſhe would have it ſo; ſo as he went immediately unto her, and falling down upon his knees, kiſſed her hand: but ſhe pulled back, as thinking it an incivility before the Nymph. No, no Silvia (ſaid Galathea) his return is extraordinary, and ſo ought your reception of him to be. Sylvia then ſeeing it was the Nymphs pleaſure to have it ſo, ſhe permitted Ligdamon to kiſs her hand, but not without a bluſh, and retiring preſently amongſt her companions, did hardly give him time to expreſs the continuation of his ſervice, and becauſe he followed her, ſeeming very deſirous of ſome conference, ſhe ſaid unto him in a low voice; if you be the ſame Ligdamon you were wont to be, take another opportunity of ſpeech with me, and before all this company uſe the ſame diſcretion you were wont to do. Upon this hint, Ligdamon making an obedient legg, turned towards Galathea, but ſo tranſported with joy, at the ſight of that beauty which was ſo dear unto him, that he could hardly retire from him: which Damon conſidering, I believe Madam (ſaid he unto Galathea) that Ligdamon thinks it a hard penance to ſatisfie your commands, before he has a little longer entertained this fair Nymph, and I perceive by his eyes that he would be diſpenced with all: if ſo (anſwered the Nymph) my curioſity is too great; Madam, replied Ligdamon) I have no greater deſire then to obey you in all things, only I beſeech you be pleaſed that I make as ſhort a relation as poſſibly I can, of ſuch things as you ſeem deſirous to know: Then after a ſhort pauſe, he began thus.

The Sequell of the Hiſtory of LIGDAMON.

[Page]

HE, Madam, who ſpeaks that which is not true, is not alwaies a Lyar, if he thinks it truth which he ſpeaks; for it is not a perfect lye, unleſs the Lyar knows he lies: If this qualification be neceſſary to make a Lyar, Egides was none when he reported my death, becauſe he thought me ſo as well as my ſelf: I ſay my ſelf; for indeed it was my full intention to die, but heaven would not permit it, to ſhew, that the Gods will have our lives abſolutely in their own diſpoſe.

Silvia who all this while took particular notice of every word which Ligdamon ſpoke, and every one caſting their eyes upon her, not being able to endure it, ſhe ſlipt amongſt her companions, and as well as ſhe could, got to the door, unſeen by Galathea or Ligdamon, till ſhe was juſt entring into her chamber, where ſhutting the door after her, ſhe reſolved to ſtay unſeen, until this diſcourſe was ended. In the mean while Ligdamon continued thus.

Since Egides has been ſo obſervant of all my commands, I aſſure my ſelf Madam, he has related unto you, how I being a Priſoner amongſt the Neuſtrians, I was taken for a Cavalier named Lidias, whom certainly I did much reſemble, ſince his own Mother, and all the reſt of his Kinred would not be perſwaded but that I was he. This Lidias had killed in a Duel his enemy called Orontes, and was condemned for it to loſe his life; and I being taken for him, muſt ſuffer for his Crime; but the Gods ſo guided my Sword, that being put into a Den of Lions, I killed two of them, rather by chance then ſtrength. At the ſame time, ſhe for whom Lidias had fought with Orontes, taking me (as all the reſt did) for him whom I ſo much reſembled, ſhe came and demanded me for her husband: for it was a cuſtomary Law amongſt all the Gauls, that any woman might take any condemned perſon for her husband, and ſo ſave him.

By vertue of this Law I was reprieved, and a few days after carried into the Temple to marry her. I muſt confeſs Madam, that my priſon, my ſentence of death, my combate with Lions, and all my misfortunes, were nothing ſo intollerable as this; and therefore when I came into the Temple, and ſeeing no way to avoid this unfortunate marriage, I reſolved to live no longer. Not but that Amerina (that was her name whom I was to marry) was very fair, very wiſe, and no way deficient, but I could not violate that fidelity which I had vowed unto the fair Silvia, without thinking my ſelf worthy of death. Some few days before, I had provided a certain kind of wine, ſo mixed, as might be a draught of immediate death; I drunk a full glaſs of this mortal potion, and before I was aware, ſo did Amerina alſo: by force of which, with a firm opinion that it was poyſon, I fell down as dead, and preſently after Amerina alſo.

I believe Madam, that Egides might relate my fortune thus far, but certainly all afterwards was unknown unto him; for he went away immediately, as well to perform all my commands, as to be out of that place where he had received ſo ſad a loſs. Now you muſt know that this Amerina, and this Lideas, were of them of the beſt Families amongſt all the Neuſtrians, and exceedingly beloved and allied; ſo as the noiſe of this accident was preſently ſpread through all Rothomagues, and the Temple was ſo full of people, that one could hardly ſtir in it: for it was an accident of ſuch admiration, as moved every one to come and ſee us. They had laid us upon the ground one by another, and caſt a cloth over our faces, whilſt all about us wept, ſome for love, ſome for pity, and many for company. They were ready to carry us into a Vault, where the Anceſtors of Amerina and Lideas were entombed, when a Phyſitian came thruſting through the croud, and addreſſed himſelf unto one that ſtood by us: Friend (ſaid he in a loud voice) is this Lidies who lies under that cloth? The ſame, anſwered the man. By what accident did [Page] he die? asked the Phyſitian: Alas (anſwered he) both he, and this woman who lies by him, did voluntarily poyſon themſelves. No, no (ſaid the Phyſitian) they are not dead; let ſome water and vinegar be fetched, and by the help of Tautates I ſhall recover them.

Many were ready to run for theſe remedies; and when they were brought, the Phyſitian rubbed our Temples with Vinegar, and put ſome into our Noſes, and afterwards threw water into our faces: This did awake us preſently, as out of a deep ſleep, but ſo aſtoniſhed, that we knew not where we were: the candles about us (for it was grown night) and the admiration of all the people who came to ſee us, that for half an hour together we ſtill ſeemed to be out of our wits: At laſt we were carried to our Lodgings, where we underſtood from the Phyſitian, that it was he from whom I had the potion; and becauſe he feared I intended ſome hurt, in lieu of poyſon, he gave this Dormative, for which he was much commended by all that heard him: But though this compoſition was not mortal, yet it made us very ill many days, and Anderina worſe then I, being of a weaker conſtitution.

This ſickneſs was a great contentment unto me; for it gave me time to think what I ſhould do. Amerinas kinred were all extreamly offended that I ſhould rather chuſe death, then living with their Coſin; conceiving that this diſdain could proceed from no other cauſe but from an ill opinion which I had of Amerina; ſo as addreſſing themſelves unto her, they asked her what occaſion ſhe had given me to hate her ſo extreamly? And told her, that our Qualities were equal, that ſhe had given me my life, and that formerly I loved her ſo very paſſionately, as they could not imagine that this alteration in me, proceeded from ſome fault which I had diſcovered in her, and that it could be no leſs then the loſs of her honour, if it were ſo; and that if they came to know of it, let her expect no leſs then ſevere puniſhment for being a ſtain unto a Family ſo noble: They added many other menaces, unto which Amerina anſwered rather with tears then words, yet excuſed her ſelf from all thoſe imputations as well as ſhe could, and aſſured her ſelf that her innocence would defend her againſt all calumny; ſo as the next morning ſhe came unto me, and acquainted me with all theſe reproaches of her kinred: By fortune, my thoughts were at that time upon Silvia, and grieving at her abſenſe, I ſpoke ſo loud, that when ſhe came to the door, ſhe heard me complain of my abſenſe from her, and name Silvia ſeveral times.

Amerina had ſo much patience as to hearken, and durſt hardly breath, for fear of being perceived, ſo deſirous was ſhe to know the cauſe of that alteration which ſhe thought to be in me: And when ſhe heard me lament the abſenſe of a Lady, and name Silvia, ſhe preſently conceived that ſome new affection had blaſted mine unto her; and being more offended at this, then at all the reproaches of her kinred, ſhe violently puſhed open the door, and entred into the chamber ſo troubled, that ſhe could hardly bid me good morrow; and yet civility, rather then any good will, invited her unto it, and to reply thus, never ſtaying for the return of her ſalute: Why (ſaid ſhe) ſhould I ſalute a perſon, who is the cauſe of ſo much ſadneſs to my ſoul? Cruel Lidias, if there be any ſpark of that name remaining in me, as when thou didſt once love me; Is it poſſible thy inconſtant humour ſhould thus ſeparate thee from me, as to deprive thee both of judgement and reaſon? Haſt thou thus forgot all thy oaths and vows of fidelity: Doſt thou not conſider how thou art obliged unto me for thy life? Can thy new taken-up affection unto Silvia thus blind thy eyes? But tell me, moſt inſenſible mad man, (for that's the name beſt ſuits with thy nature) why ſhouldſt thou not marry me, ſince thou canſt not live without me? Muſt I refer thee again to the claws of Lyons, from whence I have once reſcued thee? Doſt think thy valour can keep thee always alive? Oh Lidias, didſt thou know how many there are, and how fierce and cruel, the very thought would make thee tremble, they will pull thee in a thouſand pieces, thy heart and thy intrals will be viewed by all the ſpectators: oh Lidias! What a moſt horrid and gaſtly ſight will this be? and how impoſſible is it to avoid it? Canſt thou think fortune will alwaies fight for thee? Oh Lidias Do not deceive thy ſelf: Conſider that ſhe is a woman, and that thou wert always [Page] wont to ſay that inconſtancy is a quality inſeparably incident unto our ſex, and though ſhe be a goddeſs, yet is ſhe ſubject unto that imperfection: Alas Lidias, doſt thou not know that as a goddeſs, ſhe is juſt; and ſince ſo, ſhe will moſt infallibly puniſh thy injuſtice: O heaven defend my deareſt Lidias from ſuch misfortunes, at leaſt to favour me ſo far as to take me firſt out of the world, that I may never ſee it: upon theſe words, ſhe broke into a flood of tears, and with much ado uttered theſe words: However, cruel man, though thou wilt not take me to be thy wife, yet ſeem as if thou didſt to ſave thy life, afterwards do with me what thou wilt: have ſome pity upon thy own ſelf, and aſſure thy ſelf thy approaching torment does more trouble me then does thy ſcorn, and I ſhall endure that better then thy death. She uttered theſe words with ſo many ſighs and tears, that I underſtood her better by her meaning then by them. At laſt, when ſhe was ſilent, I anſwered her; Fair, and miſtaken Amerina, ſaid I, all thoſe horrid torments, of which you have ſpoken, can never make me break that faith which I have promiſed: I will not now mention that groſs errour wherein you are, for I ſee it is to no purpoſe; I have ſaid ſo much already, that if you will not give credit unto it, I cannot hope that any thing I ſhall ſay will undeceive you; but that you may not entertain any opinion, that it is either any ſcorn of you, or any change of will in me: Let me tell you, that all theſe horrid torments you ſpeak of are welcome unto me, ſo I may by them be rid out of that miſery wherein I am, and ſo I may render unto Silvia my faith, pure and without a ſtain; it is not any fears that makes me ſpeak thus, but only my deſire to ſee you unmiſtaken: I have already told you, that I am not Lidias: to my knowledge I never ſaw him; I aſſure you my name is Ligdamon, and am a Seguſian: Therefore fair Amerina, if you do love me, go with me into that countrey, the journey will not be long, in fifteen dayes we ſhall eaſily go it; and I proteſt unto you by all the gods of heaven and earth, that if when you are there you do not plainly find that I am not Lidias, as you think me, I will not only become your husband but your ſlave: for ſuch is the virtue and beauty of Amerina, that if I were not already engaged in affection unto Silvia, whom I will ſhew you, and whom I have loved from my very infancy, why ſhould not I eſteem and embrace her alliance and good will?

Amerina hearing me ſay ſo, cruel man, (ſaid ſhe unto me, and fixed her eyes upon me) wilt thou inviolably obſerve this proteſtation? or doſt thou only make it to deceive me by fair promiſes? Fair Amerina, anſwered I, had I any intention to deceive you by words, I ſhould never have been ſo free of them as I have been; but ſhould have let you go on in your errour, and afterwards have left you; but rather then I would be guilty of any ſuch unworthy baſe action, you ſee I will firſt chuſe poiſon; and therefore you cannot think me any deceiver or abuſer. I know, wiſe Amerina, that there is a great God in heaven, who ſees all our moſt ſecret thoughts, before we can conceive them: I know alſo, that this God is moſt omnipotent and juſt, and will puniſh every one according to their merits: I am ſure of all theſe as that I live; now Amerina, it is this great and juſt God, whom I pray unto to cover me with eternal torments, if I do not marry you when we are in Forreſts, in caſe you do not moſt plainly and apparently ſee that I am not Lidias. Upon this ſolemn proteſtation, ſaid Amerina, I will follow you, not only into Forreſt, but whereſoever you will, being moſt confident to find you no other but my deareſt Lidias, and that you will take me for your wife according to your promiſe.

Several other promiſes and vows did ſecond the firſt, after which we conſulted of the means how to take our journey ſecretly. She thought it moſt expedient, that I ſhould colourably take her for my wife, and to live a while with her as if I were really her husband, to the end her kindred might be ſatisfied, and not torment us ſo extremely. I conſented thereunto, yet with this reſervation, that I ſhould not be any way obliged unto marriage, but upon the former proteſted conditions: for I knew there was no other way to be free from all troubles.

Thus we parted upon this reſolution, and preſently after, her kindred and [Page] thoſe of Lidias, being told by Amerina, that I was reſolved to live with her according to her deſires, they all came to viſit me, and rejoice at the good reſolution I had taken. I received their viſits with as good a countenance as I could, and excuſed all former paſſages, upon pretence of a vow which I had made, which now being abſolved from, I was ready to embrace that favour which Amarina and they ſhewed unto me: Theſe excuſes were taken in a better ſenſe then ere they were meant, and gave us thoſe opportunities which we deſired: So as a few dayes after, ſeeming as if we would walk unto a houſe of Amerinas, not far from Rothomaques, we made all the haſt we could into the countreys conquered by the Franks: and though I paſſionately deſired to ſee Prince Clidemant and Lindamor, yet I could not becauſe Amerina would not give me leave, earneſtly deſiring to finiſh that voyage which we undertook, and reſolving, as ſhe ſaid, that if ſhe found me any other then Lidias, to enter her ſelf amongſt the Virgin Druides, not daring to return back unto her kindred.

We paſſed ſo near Paris as to hear of the Franks victory, eſpecially of the taking Callis, whereat ſhe much grieved, as ſhe was a Neuſtrian, ſuch a natural affection has every one unto their native countrey.

But Madam, be pleaſed to hear of a new diſaſter, which to my ſorrow befell us. About the hight of the day, when the ſun was extremely hot, Amerina not uſed to travel grew very weary: ſo finding a handſome ſhade by the way ſide, ſhe deſired me to let her reſt: I, who did very much honour and eſteem this Lady, did lay ſome of my clothes under her, left ſitting upon the ground might cauſe her to catch a cold, and ſhaded her as well as I could with boughs, from the ſcortching heat of the ſun; and went a little diſtance from her, to get ſome more freſh branches. I was no ſooner gone ſome twenty paces from her, but a young Cavalier lighted from his horſe, near the place where Amarina was, with intention to reſt there until the day was a little cooler: he tyed his horſe unto a tree, and ſo as he might graſe, but not without great need, for he looked to be ſo lank and faint, that one might eaſily judge his maſter had rid him a long journey. In the mean time I returned unto Amerina, and never minding this young man, brought thoſe branches which I had gotten, and went to get ſome more: he in the mean time, after he had tied his horſe and looked about him, he ſpied Amerina, towards whom he went, and with a handſome becoming civility, asked her if it would not be too great a trouble unto her, if he enjoyed part of that ſhade where ſhe was. Amerina knew by his tone that he was a ſtranger, and finding much modeſty in his looks and garb, ſhe offered him the conveniency of the place.

He was no ſooner ſet upon the ſtump of an old tree, but I returned, and I perceived, that as ſoon as he caſt his eye upon me, he changed colour, and was ſo amazed, that he knew not what to do, but ſlunk away: but hearing him ſpeak unto Amerina, I knew by his tongue he was neither Frank nor Gaul, and thought that he had an opinion, I would diſlike his intruſion ſo near Amerina; ſo as minding him no more, I talked unto Amerina, and asked her how ſhe did, and whither ſhe deſired to ſleep. Yes (ſaid ſhe) I would willingly ſleep, did I not fear ſome Serpents and Gnats would ſting me: Never fear, ſaid I, for I will not ſtir from you, but keep a vigilant eye that no ſuch things ſhall hurt you. Then ſaid ſhe, you ſhall be my Guardian ſo I made her a pillow of ſome of my clothes, and covered her face with my handkerchief, then ſet my ſelf down by her. Mean time, the young man was got a good diſtance off: I took notice that he pulled his hat over his eyes, ſtamped upon the ground with his foot, croſſed his arms, looked up towards heaven, and often caſt his eye upon me; then would he bite his fingers, lay his hand upon his ſword, walk two or three paces towards us, and turn back upon a ſudden, uſing ſuch raptive geſtures, as I thought him either mad, or elſe had ſome queſtions of quarrelling importance to ask me: yet I ſeemed to take no notice, but kept my ſelf cloſe and obſerved what he did.

At laſt, when he ſaw Amarina aſleep, he came towards me, and when he perceived me to look upon him, he beckned unto me: I roſe up as gently as I could, [Page] and coming to him, asked him what he would have with me; but he without returning any anſwer, looked earneſtly upon me, and going back again, made a ſigne with his hand that I ſhould follow him; which I told him I would, but would not go far from that Lady: he looking upon me with eyes of fire, Does that Lady (ſaid he) hinder thee from reſtoring that which thou oweſt unto me, thou wicked and perfideous man? Am I (ſaid I in amazement) ſo wicked and perfideous unto you? Stranger, thou art either out of thy wits, or elſe art weary of thy life. Life indeed (anſwered he) is nothing pleaſing unto me, but much more then thy ingratitude and unworthineſs: Upon this he recoyled two or three paces, and drew his ſword: Then coming towards me, This life (ſaid he) which Melander could not loſe in twice ſaving thine, thy ſword, and thy ingratitude ſhall raviſh from me. Upon that, without ſtaying for any anſwer, he fell inconſiderately upon me, and I only ſtanding upon my Guard, he hit his right arm upon the point of my ſword, and received a wound ſo deep, that his ſword fell out of his hand; and preſently after his heart failing him, he fell down, ſaying, Well Lidias, now I thank thee, ſince not being ab [...]e to live without thee, thou art pleaſed to give me my death.

Upon theſe words Amerina waked, and ſeeing our ſwords drawn, ſhe ran unto us; but ſeeing him upon the ground, and in a ſwoon, thinking him dead, friend (ſaid ſhe unto me) let us make all the haſte we can from hence, leſt if any ſhould come in, we ſhould fall into the hands of Juſtice. Indeed (ſaid I unto her) I am unwilling to leave this young man thus; for I cannot think it poſſible he ſhould die upon ſo ſlight a wound. If he be not dead (replyed ſhe) ſo much the better, ſome will come and do him that charitable office which he ſhould receive from us, but however, it is wiſdom to ſecure our ſelves: Upon this taking me by the hand, ſhe carried me away, and paſſing by the place where ſhe reſted, ſhe took my clothes, and gave them unto me with all poſſible haſte.

Obſerve Madam, how affection will ſomtimes foreſee a danger unto the perſon loved, as if we had a knowledge of future things.

I obſerved that Amerina from time to time looked back unto the place from whence we came; and after a two hours walk, when we were almoſt cloſe to the Town of Neomagues, one of the prime Cities of the Ambarres, ſix Souldiers upon full gallop overtook us, and carried us away priſoners: where Amerinas wit appeared to be moſt admirable; for undreſſing her ſelf with all poſſible haſte, ſhe conſtrained me to change clothes with her: for (ſaid ſhe) if the man be not dead, when he ſees me, doubtleſs he will ſay that it was not I who wounded him, and ſo we ſhall be releaſed. Now ſo it chanced, that a while after we had left this ſtranger, the Governour of that Province paſſed by the Place where this Duel was fought, and asking ſome Shepherds which ſaw the paſſage, who it was that committed this murder, he underſtood that it was two perſons who went towards Neomagues, and on foot: The Governour being deſirous to do Juſtice, diſpatched ſix of his Guard to ſeize upon us, as they did; and in the mean time, cauſed the Corps to be carried away, with intention to bury it: but being only in a ſwoon, as ſoon as they began to undreſs him, he revived; ſo as they bound up his wound, and ſet him upon his own horſe, with one to hold him, left he ſhould faint again, and fall.

He was no ſooner upon Horſeback, but ſeeing a young man riding faſt upon the way, oh (ſaid the young ſtranger) yonder's the man who did me the wrong. Some that heard theſe words, acquainted the Governour, yet not ſo ſoon, but the young man, who had a very good horſe, and rid very faſt, was got a good diſtance off; ſo as do what they could, they could not ſeize upon him, till he was entred the Town: but enquiring at the Gates where he lodged, he was no ſooner alighted, but they took him, and brought him to the priſon where we were, yet into another chamber; and we were advertiſed of it by the Goaler, at night when he brought us our meat: But I muſt needs confeſs, I was never in all my life more grieved, then when I ſaw them fetter with Irons the feet and hands of the fair Amerina, eſpecially when I conſidered that it was for my ſake ſhe ſuffered: yet ſhe took them with incomparable courage, and caſt ſuch an eye upon me, as intimated [Page] that all chains and fetters for my ſake were welcome unto her: But indeed, when ſhe ſaw that they intended to ſeparate us, ſhe began to be ſomthing troubled, as well becauſe it grieved her to be abſent from me, as becauſe ſhe was to ſtay alone in that place; which made me uſe all poſſible endeavours to prevent it: I uſed all my Rhethorique and Prayers that we might keep together, for we ſaid that we were man and wife: but the man was no more moved with any prayers, or tears, then if he had been a Rock: I offered him to put as many fetters upon my hands and feet as he pleaſed, I kneeled unto him, held up my hands, would have kiſſed his feet, but all would not do any good: At laſt, remembring that gifts will ſomtimes ſtrike a thunderbolt out of the hand of Jupiter, I took a very fair Diamond from off my finger, and preſented it unto him, beſeeching him to take that in part of what we intended to do for him: He took this teſtimony of our good will very willingly; and I preſently perceived, that the luſter of the ſtone did begin to mollifie his obdurate temper: And after he had looked well upon it, I perceive (ſaid he) that you deſerve to have ſome favour ſhewed unto you; I pity your condition, and am ſorry your affections to each other ſhould be ſeparated; but though I have command to ſever you, yet I will not this night: yet do not think it is becauſe of this ring which you have given me, but becauſe I know by your faces that you are not guilty of this crime whereof you are accuſed; for we can tell at the very firſt fight who are criminal, and can read their faults in their very eyes. After this he went away, and preſently ſent us a good Feather-bed, and good Bed-clothes, with ſo many kind expreſſions, as we could not chuſe but admire, that a heart which was as hard as any ſtone, ſhould be ſoftned ſo ſuddenly by gifts. After the door was ſhut, and I think a hundred locks upon it, Amerina after a deep ſigh, Friend (ſaid ſhe unto me, for I lay upon a Matteras a little dis;tant from her,) are you yet aſleep? No (anſwered I) will you command me any ſervice? The ſervice I would command (ſaid he) is, that to morrow you petend to go and ſolicite for my enlargement, and when you are out, then to make an eſcape, and tell me the place where I ſhall find you. But (replyed I) would you have me leave you alone in this condition? Friend (ſaid ſhe) the condition wherein I am, would be pleaſing unto me, were it not for my fears of you; and theſe chains and fetters, ſince for your ſake, would be more ſweet and welcome to me, were I certain of your ſafety: in lieu of hating them, I would kiſs them a thouſand them, ſince by them I can teſtifie the extream affection which I bear unto you. But tell me, dear friend, when you are gone from hence, will you ever think upon Amerina? Will it not come into your thoughts that Silvia cannot love you ſo well as I? Oh how great would be my felicity if it ſhould? But Friend, I will not oblige you unto ſo much; only promiſe me, that in the midſt of all your contentments, you will give me leave to love you, and that you will not call my affection troubleſome, nor be weary of it: Upon this condition go, and enjoy the felicities of that happy Silvia; and tell her amidſt all the kind embraces which you receive from her, that it was poor Amerina which preſerved Lidias for her.

She would have talked more, if tears and ſighs would have ſuffered her; which moved me to ſo much compaſſion, that to comfort her, I went nearer unto her; as well to oblige her by it, as to avoid being heard by any, having heard, that ſomtimes walls have ears. Firſt I fell upon my knees by her Bed-ſide, and taking her hand, which I found fettered, I offered to kiſs it; but ſhe pulling it back, cauſed me to ſit down by her, and then I ſaid unto her.

Theſe teſtimonies of that affection which you have unto Lidias, and for whoſe ſake I receive ſo many favours, do oblige me ſo far, fair Amerina, that I will ſwear I ſhall never enjoy any perfect contentment, until I ſee you undeceived, and convinced of that errour wherein you are. Oh moſt cruel man! ſaid ſhe, yet harping upon that falſe ſtring, which jars ſo extreamly in my ears? I moſt then at one blow cut off all your impertinent excuſes: Upon this, raiſing up her ſelf in her Bed; I conjure you (ſaid ſhe) in the name of truth to tell me, who was it that reſcued you out of the claws of Lyons? Who ſav'd your life upon condition of Marriage? To whom did I give my perſon and all my eſtate? For whom have I [Page] left all my kindred and friends? Tell me who it is I have followed through all theſe ſtrange Countreys, not valuing my reputation nor any thing elſe. Tell me (I ſay) for whom do you think I ſuffer theſe Irons upon my hands and feet, and am ready to endure all the torments that mortals can deviſe? I muſt needs confeſs (ſaid I unto her) that it is I who am obliged unto you for all theſe. Then (replied ſhe preſently) if it be you who is obliged unto me for your life, and all theſe teſtimonies of my affection, whoever you are, you are the moſt ungrateful man that ever breathed, if you do not render me amity for amity, and love for love. I do not exact this from you as Lidias, nor bid Lidias love Amerina: But I ſay, friend whomſoever you are, love her who loves you, and her to whom you are more obliged, then ever any man was unto any woman.

Theſe words did a little ſurprize me, and was the cauſe why I pauſed a while without returning any anſwer, and gave her occaſion to continue on: O moſt ungrateful heart (ſaid ſhe) O the moſt inſenſible ſoul that ever was? what canſt thou do more to make me die? why doſt thou not open my breſt, and pull out that heart which loves thee too well? perhaps you think it has not ſuffered enough yet, for the fault which it hath committed: I beleive ſhe had not ſo ſoon ceaſed her reproaches, though ſighs and tears made her cut her words in the midſt, if I had not beſeeched her to hear me, and give a little truce to her paſſion.

What canſt thou ſay unto me inſenſible man? replied ſhe, doſt think I know not what anſwers thou wilt make? Amerina (wilt thou ſay) were I not already Silvias, and given my ſelf and my faith unto her, I ſhould endeavour to ſatisfie all my obligations unto you; but I am already tied up by the Laws of fidelity, and I were a moſt unworthy man, if I ſhould offer to break them: This is the anſwer I expect from you, but O thou unthankful perſon, doſt think to pay thy debts thu [...]? Canſt thou believe ſuch coyn as this will content Amerina? No, no, ungrateful wretch: I ſummon thee before the throne of Juſtice, and ask whether ſuch obligations as theſe ought to be cancelled, upon ſuch ſhallow and unreaſonable pretences. For pray thee tell me, has this Silvia, whom thou thus preferreſt before me, obliged thee with ſtronger chains then I have? Did ſhe ever ſave thy life? has ſhe wholly given her ſelf unto thee? Did ſhe ever follow thee through ſtrange Countreys? Was ſhe ever in priſon for thy ſake? Did ſhe ever ſetter her hands and feet with Irons to ſet thee at liberty: if ever ſhe ſhewed ſuch teſtimonies of her affection, then I am ſilent, and muſt only complain againſt my ill Fortune, which would not let me be the firſt of thy obligers; but if ſhe never did, then I muſt ſay, and ſay again, with abundance of reaſon and truth, that thou art the moſt ungrateful, moſt unjuſt, and moſt inſenſible perſon that ever lived.

At laſt, I interrupted her in this manner: It is moſt true, fair Amerina, that I could alledge all thoſe arguments you have inſtanced, and were we before any unintereſted, impartial Judge, perhaps thoſe reaſons would not be contemptible. But now I will not urge it ſo far, knowing as well as you can tell me, that never any was more obliged then I unto you: This I only muſt ſay, that if hitherto you do not know, how I reſent the favours you have done me, it is becauſe you never asked me, but only asked one Lidias, whom I proteſt before heaven and all the gods, I never ſaw to my knowledge: But now, ſince you addreſs your ſelf unto me, and require of me perſonally, a ſatisfaction, and acknowledgment, of all thoſe obligations, wherein I ſtand bound unto you, I muſt needs confeſs my ſelf infinitly to blame, if I did not give you all the ſatisfaction I am able. 'Tis certainly true, that he who is forward to borrow, unleſs he intend to convert his friend into an enemy, muſt be as forward to pay: And it is as certainly true, fair Amerina, that I am as much obliged unto you, as any man can poſſibly be: and I do not now deny the debt, but only require a little time, to give ample ſatisfaction: in the mean time, as part of payment, I beſeech you accept of my good will, with this aſſurance, that I can never pay all I ow you, but am as willing as you can deſire: Ah Ligdamon (ſaid ſhe) and now no more Lidias, ſince you will have it ſo, what unſpeakable contentment would theſe words be unto me. if I could think them real? O fair Amerina, replied I preſently, if you love me, [Page] loſe that of opinion of me, had I a mind to be a lyar, I could eaſily have prevented all thoſe reproaches, which you were pleaſed to put upon me, for I could eaſily haue promiſed all you demand, without any ſolicitation from you. But commonly thoſe that are forward to promiſe are backward to perform: ſince for the preſent, I muſt be contented with your good will (replied ſhe with a more ſatisfied tone) and ſince you promiſe to give full ſatisfaction, as ſoon as you can, tell me friend, what do you mean by theſe words good will? To which I anſwered, fair Amerina, that good will which I mean, and which I beſeech you to accept, is a moſt real deſire to do you all manner of ſervice, with an aſſurance that I do honour and eſteem you. And why (ſaid ſhe and interrupted) do you not ſay, and love me; and love you alſo (added I) ſince you are pleas'd I ſhould uſe the word; and love you with as ſincere and perfect affection, as your honour and my faith will at preſent permit. To be brief, I am fully reſolved to imploy that life which you have given me, in giving you all the contentment you deſire, and never to think my ſelf ſatisfied and contended, until you be. Will you promiſe me (ſaid ſhe) to obſerve all theſe conditions moſt religiouſly? I ſwear it (ſaid I unto her) by all that's ſacred: and may all the curſes of heaven and earth fall upon me, if I be forſworn. Then (ſaid ſhe) give me your hand: I ſwear alſo to receive your promiſes, and declare, that until ſuch time as you can give full ſatisfaction, I will be contented, and think my ſelf well paid for what I have done: Nay more, I will for ever love you, and upon all occaſions whatſoever, oblige you more for the future then I have for the time paſt.

Thus was the mind of Amerina calmed, which was no ſmall advantage to me, for I believe if I had left her in that rage, ſhe might perhaps, out of ſpite, have diſcovered all that had paſſed, and ſo have ruin'd me and her ſelf too. But on the contrary, after all theſe conditions, ſhe was urgent with me to be gone the next morning, and that I ſhould ſtay for her in the firſt Town of the Seguſian Countrey. I urged my ſorrows to leave her in that condition, but ſhe told me that as for her, ſhe could not be in any great danger, for come the worſt that could, ſhe could ſay that I was her husband, and to help me away, ſhe lent me her clothes: That beſides, there was another ſtranger already accuſed, and that when the firſt ſtranger ſaw her, he would know ſhe was not the ſame that wounded him: That ſhe was not the firſt wife who helped her husband to eſcape in her clothes.

To be brief, ſhe perſwaded ſo, that I reſolved to be gone in the morning: So as in order thereunto, when the Goaler came to viſit us, I told him that I had a great deſire to provide ſome good meat for my husband, alſo deſired him to dine with us, and therefore prayed him to let me go into the market to buy it. He who was already well prepared with the diamond that I gave him, and hoped for more, you may go, ſaid he, whether you pleaſe; for it is not you that is accuſed for wounding the man, but it is your husband, and I have no warrant to keep you priſoner, but him only, ſo as the door ſhall be open unto you when you pleaſe: I thanked him for his courteſy, and promiſed acknowledgment. I went then unto Amerina, and under a pretence of asking her what ſhe would have to dinner, I told her that I would ſtay at a private place upon the high way, called Pacodiere, near a Seguſian Town called Croſſet: that in the midſt of that Town there is erected a pillar which divides four wayes: that upon this pillar ſhe ſhould find the firſt letter of my name, and the place where I lodged: And preſently, without any ceremonious taking of leave, I went away; but I muſt confeſs, not without tears in my eyes. The Goaler opened the doores, and told me where I might buy any thing I deſired, ſo as I left him in expectation of a good dinner.

I was no ſooner at liberty, but leaving the way of Gergovia, I went towards Deſires, up the river Loyre; and though I was in womans habit, yet I was ſo deſirous to ſee my native Countrey, and ſo fearful to be taken in the Dominions of of the King of Ambaries and Boyers, that the fourth day I came to Pacodiere. There I ſtayed ten dayes, in which time I changed my habit, and hearing no news of Amerina all that while, I deſired the good woman of the houſe where I lodged, [Page] who entertained me very kindly, to watch when Amerina paſſed by, and to give her thoſe clothes which I wore; and alſo to tell her, that ſuch urgent buſineſs befel me, as I was forced to go unto the great City of Marcelles. And indeed Madam, the reaſon why I ſtayed there no longer, was, a Report ſpread up and down all the Country of an enſuing War, and I did ſee that ſome liſted Souldiers ſecretly about Surcea, ſo as I thought it my duty to preſent my ſelf unto you Madam, upon this occaſion, and employ my life in your ſervice, as I was obliged.

Thus did Ligdamon relate his fortune, whilſt the Nymph Amaſis ▪ Prince Godomar, Adamas, and Alcidon, went unto the Queen Argira, who deſired to ſpeak with the Nymph and the Prince, before ſhe reſolved upon her journey. She told them, that for the favour which ſhe had received from the Gods in the reſtitution of her Son to his ſenſes, ſhe could never be thankful enough unto them, and all thoſe that were inſtrumental in it: But ſhe was afraid left Roſilions malady being only a wounded imagination, he ſhould return into it again: And therefore (ſaid ſhe) I thought good to tell him, that it was cauſed by Inchantment, and that Prince Godomar diſ-enchanted him; for he did no more remember any thing that was paſt ſince his diſtraction, then a childe in the cradle: I thought it therefore expedient, as well upon this conſideration, as for the preſervation of his Reputation, not to let him be known here, but to carry him away ſecretly, as he came.

Adamas then upon the Nymphs command, repreſented unto her the contentment which Prince Godomar and ſhe received at that ſatisfaction which ſhe found in her journey: That it was very prudently conſidered of her, to carry away the Prince Roſilion: But before her departure, it was neceſſary for the obſervation of that ſolemn Vow which ſhe had publiquely made, that ſhe knew the danger wherein that State was, which ſhe had ſworn to preſerve and defend. Upon this he acquainted her with the enterpriſe of Polemas, with his correſpondencies with his Neighbour Princes, eſpecially with the Burgundian King; with the aſſiſtance that King had promiſed unto him; with his pretended offence againſt Prince Godomar and Dorinde; with the death of Prince Clidemant, with the abſence of Lindamore and his Forces: Briefly, the Druide omitted nothing that was neceſſary to be imparted unto her: ſo as Madam (concluded he) if you do not aſſiſt the Nymph, as you have voluntarily obliged your ſelf by ſolemn vow, I know not what will become of her.

The Queen then who gave a very attentive ear unto all this, turning towards the Nymph, I am very glad Madam (ſaid ſhe unto her) to know all that this great Druide hath related unto me, that I may teſtifie unto the Gods and you, how I can keep my promiſe: It ſeems to be the will of heaven my ſon ſhould receive this favour from this place purpoſely to intereſt him and me alſo in your affairs. I aſſure you, that if you will give me but a moneths time, I will bring ſo many fighting armed men into the field, as though the King of the Burgundians be a great Prince, yet he ſhall not be able to hurt you.

Whilſt the Nymph was returning thanks, and the Queen confirming her promiſe of preſent aid, one came and acquainted the Queen Argira, that a Boyen Cavalier was come unto her from King Policander. As ſoon as the Queen ſaw him; what News (ſaid ſhe unto him) do you bring me from the King? Not good (anſwered he) but Madam, he does paſſionately deſire to ſee you. Upon this he preſented King Policanders Letter unto her. The Queen took it with a troubled hand, and with extream inquietude broke open the Seal; ſhe read it, and then with tears in her eyes ſhewed it unto the Nymph, who read theſe words.

[Page]

King POLICANDERS Letter unto the Queen ARGIRA.

DEath is a thing ſo natural and common, that it never troubles me; but to die before I ſee you, does extreamly perplex my ſoul: becauſe I would gladly diſcharge my ſelf of that Debt and Duty which I owe unto you. Come therefore, Madam, with as much haſte as poſſibly you can, if you deſire my Soul ſhould depart contentedly in giving you ſatisfaction. This Bearer will acquaint you with the condition wherein he left me.

Oh Heavens! cryed out the Queen, great joys are commonly followed with great ſorrows. Then addreſſing her ſelf to the Cavalier, ſhe enquired of the Kings ſickneſs, & what the Phyſitians thought of him: She underſtood that they thought him in great danger of his life, and that ſhe muſt make haſte, if ſhe came time enough to ſee him alive.

The Princeſs (whoſe courage was equal to her quality) muſtering together all her vertues and generoſity, after the effuſion of ſome tears, ſhe reſolved upon a courſe worthy of her ſelf; and addreſſing her ſelf unto the Nymph, Madam (ſaid ſhe unto her) you ſee I am conſtrained to depart for the good of my children, and happineſs of all the remainder of my life: But I promiſe to arm in your defence, not only the Boyens, Ambarres, and Lemovices, but all the Picts, the Santons, and the Bituriges: Nay more, either my Allies and Confederates ſhall fail me, or the Armorique Cities, and other Kings, my Confederates, ſhall do the ſame. If King Policander be not able to come in perſon, my two children ſhall, who dare not refuſe, when they ſee me come my ſelf. In aſſurance of what I ſay, I will leave Roſanira with you, who I beſeech you may keep Galathea company till I return: This pawn ſhall remain with you, not only to put me in mind of my promiſe, but to invite Celiodantes as her Brother, and Roſilion as her Lover, to come and relieve her.

Upon this, retiring her ſelf, ſhe took order for her departure, acquainted Roſilion with Policanders ſickneſs, and how neceſſary it was to make all poſſible haſte; that therefore ſhe was conſtrained to leave Roſanira in the hands of the Nymph, with almoſt all her women, and that they would very ſhortly return unto her again, but for the preſent, there was a neceſſity of leaving her for a time, upon ſome reaſons which ſhe would impart unto him by the way.

Roſanira would gladly have followed the Queen Argira; but ſhe was the better contented to ſtay with the Nymph, by reaſon of the great League of Amity already contracted betwixt her and Galathea.

All things being ready, the Queen Argira departed with Roſilion, and carried with her only five and twenty Souldiers, leaving the reſt with the Princeſs Roſanira, with a charge to obey the Nymph, and the Prince Godomar, in whatſoever they ſhould command.

She was no ſooner out of ſight of Marcelles, but the Guards upon the top of the Tower, eſpied ſome Horſemen, whom they thought to be armed, becauſe the Sun ſhining upon their Armes, did make a great gliſtering. The Prince Godomar was preſently acquainted, and Adamas alſo; who gave orders unto the Guards at the Port, to have their Horſe in readineſs. A while after they diſcovered them to be ſix Troops of Horſe, who accompanied ſome perſons that were unarmed. When they came near the Town, they ſtayed, and thoſe who were unarmed, who were to the number of twenty, advanced, and told the Guard at the Gate, that there was Alerantes, an Envoy whom the Burgundian King had ſent unto the [Page] Nymph Amaſis. As ſoon as ſhe was acquainted with it, by the counſel of the Prince, Adamas, Alcidon, and Damon, ſhe ſent thoſe Horſe which the Queen Argira left, to receive him: and being brought into her preſence, ſhe would not hear him until Prince Godomar was preſent alſo: and becauſe Alerantes was unwilling to ſpeak before him: Then (ſaid ſhe unto him) I dare not hear you without his permiſſion, becauſe I have transferred all the Soveraign power into his hands. Since Madam you will have it ſo (ſaid he) I muſt according to the commands of my Soveraign Lord tell you, that conſidering the good correſpondency which hath always been betwixt you, he complains exceedingly againſt you; that you ſhould not only receive into your protection a woman called Dorinde, who moſt ignominiouſly ran away out of the houſe of the Princeſs Clotilda, his Neece, but alſo have protected all thoſe that murdered Clorintes the Captain of his Guard, particularly the Prince Godomar, who he now diſclaims for his ſon, and takes for his moſt cruel enemy. And becauſe Madam, perhaps you do not know how much he is diſpleaſed at your harbouring of ſuch as are his enemies, he lets you know by me, and ſummons you to deliver into his hands Dorinde, as the ſhame of his houſe, and Prince Godomar, as the Ring-leader of Rebels: In ſo doing, he offers you all amity and aſſiſtance; if otherwiſe, you muſt expect the fury of his Arms.

The Nymph not at all daunted, ſhe addreſſed her ſelf unto the Prince, Sir (ſaid ſhe) It belongs unto you to give an anſwer. Though Madam (anſwered he) it was your pleaſure to confer all authority upon me, and ſo conſequently it belongs unto me to anſwer, yet I beſeech you to return ſuch a one, as you ſhall pleaſe; and believe, this ſword ſhall maintain whatever you ſhall ſay.

Amaſis upon this turned towards Alerantes; Cavalier (ſaid ſhe) I cannot believe that a King ſo wiſe as Gondebaut, would ever give you any commiſſion to ſpeak ſo unworthily of ſo great a Prince as his own Son, nor of ſo wiſe and well born a woman as Dorinde; and therefore without expectance of any anſwer from me, get out of my Dominions as ſoon as you can, or otherwiſe you ſhall find ſuch entertainment as your arrogance deſerves.

Madam (anſwered he) I came not without my Commiſſion, and here are Letters of Credence written unto you by the Kings own hand. The Nymph took them, and preſented them unto the Prince: who reading them, aſſured her they were written by the Burgundian King. Then (ſaid the Nymph) I ſhall talk with you after another faſhion: Tell therefore unto King Gondebaut, that as for Dorinde, my Dominions ſhall be always free unto any that are oppreſſed: And as for Prince Godomar, it is not he that is in my Dominions, but I that am in his, he being the abſolute Lord of all the Seguſians, and of all Forreſts. As for the war which he threatens upon me, tell him, that it is men indeed who begins wars, but it is the Gods only who gives victories, and in that confidence I fear not the injuſtice of his Arms.

Thus ſpoke the Nymph, and all that heard her applauded her courage: when Godomar ſaw ſhe had no more to ſay; for my part (ſaid he) tell the King, that though he diſ-own me for his Son, yet I will never do any act that ſhall be unworthy of the Name; and to teſtifie the truth of what I ſay, tell him, that as long as this ſword will laſt, I will defend the honour of ſuch Ladies as are unjuſtly oppreſſed, and maliciouſly aſperſed.

As for Dorinde, whom I take into my protection, I will defend her with my ſword in my hand, againſt any that will offer to wrong her: And if there be any that carries the Title of Cavalier, who will ſpeak any ill of her, or maintain the words which you have ſpoke againſt her, or againſt us, who have delivered her out of the hands of thoſe who would injuriouſly have carried her away, here is a pawn (ſaid he, and gave him his Glove) which imports a challenge; I except againſt none but the King my Father; knowing very well, that Prince Sigiſmond my brother, will arm himſelf with me in the ſame quarrel, if Paternal authority do not oppreſs him.

As for war, which he threatens upon this great Nymph; tell him, I beſeech one thing from him, which is, that he will not come himſelf, unleſs he have a mind to ſee his Army back'd in pieces before his face: but if he have a mind to [Page] be rid of any bad ſervants, he may ſend them hither, and we ſhall quickly diſcharge him of them.

Alerantes turning towards the Nymph, Madam (ſaid he) Is this all the ſatiſfaction I muſt carry unto the King my Maſter? If King Gondebaut (anſwered ſhe) be not contented with theſe anſwers, tell him, he could expect no other from ſuch as he would oppreſs, and who yet fears not the violence of his unjuſt Arms wherewith he threatens a woman. I would not willingly (anſwered Alerantes) make this declaration; but ſince you do ſo little eſteem the grandeur of the King, my Lord, and ſo much ſlight the clemency which he offers, I muſt let you know from him, that he is your mortal enemy; that he does defie you, and all that adhere unto you; that he declares the Seguſians, and all Forreſts, to be an enemies Country, and therefore liable to the plunder and inevitable fury of his Army. As he ſpoke theſe words, he broke a ſtaff which he held in his hand in the midſt, and threw the pieces at the feet of the Nymph: Thus (ſaid he) in the preſence of Gods and men, be all amity broke of betwixt you for ever. The Nymph enraged with anger, and ſetting her foot upon the broken ſtaff; and thus (ſaid ſhe) do I trample upon this emblem of our broken alliance; I do not value any of his thundring threats, but hope that Tautates will blaſt them all.

Then Alerantes without doing any reverence, or any action of reſpect or honour, retired; when Godomar ſaid unto him, what anſwer do you give unto the challenge which I offered? We ſhall come ere long (anſwered he) with an Army of threeſcore thouſand men. That (ſaid the Prince) is either too many, or too few: Too many for a particular combate; and too few to fight againſt the Juſtice of the Gods.

Alerantes returned him no anſwer, but ſhaking his head in a menacing manner, he went out of the Caſtle, and taking horſe, when he was ſome twenty paces out of the Town, he made a ſtop, and turned about▪ Oh ye titular Gods of the City of Marcelles (cryed he out in a loud voice) and all ye other Gods and Goddeſſes who are here adored, I beſeech you be auſpicious unto the Arms of the King my Lord, and be pleaſed to come into the Royal City of Lions where he vows to build you a Temple, to erect Altars, and adore you with all manner of Reverence and Honour. When he had repeated theſe words thrice over, he took a Javelin, and ran with all his force againſt the walls of the Town, then ſetting ſpurs to his Horſe, he rid as faſt as he could unto the ſix Troops which waited for him.

This action incenſed the people extreamly; and had not Adamas reſtrained them, doubtleſs they would have done him ſome diſpleaſure; but he told them, that Ambaſſadors were no ways culpable of the meſſage they brought, nor deſerved any puniſhment; and that by the Law of Nations, they were to paſs freely. And ſeeing all the City much ſtartled at the noiſe of this war, he adviſed the chief Magiſtrates to appeaſe this Tumult wiſely; and becauſe it was now too late to aſſemble the whole Corporation of the Town together, the Nymph would to morrow acquaint them with the cauſes of all theſe rumors. Theſe prudent promiſes of the Druide, did a little calm their ſpirits; and doubling the Guards, he went unto the Caſtle, to adviſe with the Nymph and Prince Godomar.

He came thither juſt as Adraſtes was upon his knees before that Prince to kiſs his hand, in gratitude for the favour he received from him. Godomar took him up, and carried him unto Damon and Alcidon. Cavalier (ſaid he unto Damon) Here is the Shepherd unto whom the Gods have been ſo favourable. It was a bleſſed act, anſwered Damon, and a thouſand pities ſo honeſt a Shepherd ſhould be reduced unto ſuch a condition upon ſo noble a cauſe; If all thoſe that commit the ſame fault he did, ſhould be as harſhly treated as he was, I believe Sir, you would have work enough in driving of Nails. Every one did laugh at this: Afterwards he went on, and ſpoke unto Celidea; Shepherdeſs (ſaid he) I wonder you ſhould not tax me with my promiſe, that the Gods may reſtore that which they once gave unto you. Sir, anſwered ſhe, I am ſo far from putting you in memory, that I moſt earneſtly beſeech you to forget it. It does amaze me (ſaid Godomar) to hear you ſay ſo; I cannot believe any woman in the world is of your [Page] mind: for as ſtrength and prudence have given men the priviledge to be Lords of the Univerſe, ſo the gods have given beauty unto women to be the Ladies and Miſtreſſes of men.

Sir, anſwered ſhe, I ſhould prize this beauty whereof you ſpeak, as much as any other, if I did not conſider the recovery of it may coſt me that which is dearer then my life; for it is a very death unto me to be abſent from Thamires: No, no, (anſwered Thamires) I beſeech you ſet your heart at reſt: for ſince you deprived your ſelf of that which is moſt dear unto your ſex, only to become mine, I am reſolved, rather then it ſhould not be reſtored unto you, to loſe my life: and therefore Sir (ſaid he unto Damon) I beſeech you perform your promiſe, and be not hindred by the tears of this Shepherdeſs, whoſe paſſion does blind her reaſon: appoint ſome to be my guide, and tell me what I ſhall do before I go.

I ſhould be very ſorry to diſpleaſure this wife ſhepherdeſs (anſwered Damon) but the obligation of my promiſe may excuſe me, and therefore Halladine my ſervant ſhall be your guide; I will write a Letter unto the learned Operatour: and all that you have to do here, is to make the skars in her face bleed, and wet in the bloud as many little ſtaves as there is wounds, in the blood; then when they are dry, lap them up in linnen clothes, and carry them away as ſoon as may be: in the mean time, care muſt be had of keeping the wounds very clean, waſhing them every day with warm wine, and covering them cloſe, leſt any duſt get in; then doubtleſs you will find her recovered at your return. O heavens (cryed out Celed [...]a) muſt this tr [...]fle of Nature, which they call beauty, cauſe a ſeparation ſo long betwixt Thamires and me? Ah my deareſt Thamires (ſaid ſhe) are you not contented with me as I am? For my part I am, and if you be alſo, why ſhould you ſeek it with ſo much danger to your ſelf, and ſorrow to me? Can you be better then contented? Take heed, leſt the gods, ſeeing you ſo inſatiable, ſhould deprive you of thoſe contentments which you now enjoy: upon this ſhe hung about his neck, with ſuch a ſtream of tears, as moved every one to pity her, and admire her, except Thamires, who being peremptorily reſolved upon the journey, was very earneſt with Damon to perform his promiſe: Whereupon Damon, calling for Halladine, he commanded him to make himſelf ready, and wait upon Thamires, unto the great maſter of natures ſecrets in Carthage, called Olicarſis; and becauſe Thamires intended to go home that night, and make all ready for his journey in the morning, Halladine went to prepare himſelf according to his maſters commands, though ſomething againſt his mind to leave him before he was perfectly recovered. In the interim, Damon writ a Letter, and gave it unto Halladine.

Celidea (ſeeing there was no way to divert Thamires from this voyage, ſince neither prayers nor tears would prevail) ſhe called to mind Palemons vow of granting the firſt requeſt that was made unto him. O Palemon (ſaid ſhe unto him) I conjure you by your ſolemn vow which you made, to grant the firſt thing which was asked you, after the obtaining your deſires, to undertake this journey in lieu of Thamires. Palemon was a little ſurpized, but preſently recollecting himſelf: O Celidea (ſaid he) I will never break my vow, though the journey ſhould coſt me my life, and therefore am ready to perform it: Ah me! cried out the Shepherdeſs Doris, what a fool I was, not to make the firſt requeſt, that Palemon ſhould never leave me? Muſt I now loſe him to content another? O moſt cruel Shepherdeſs, worſe againſt me then thy own face? What offence have I done thee that thou ſhouldeſt thus grieve me to death? Companion (replied Celidea, with a more ſatisfied countenance). I muſt confeſs I am very ſorry to do you this diſpleaſure; but you ſee I uſed all means poſſible to prevent it: and ſince all will not prevail, I beſeech you ſweet Shepherdeſſe to pardon me, ſince what I did was by force and conſtraint.

Doris having no hopes of altering Celidea, nor in making Palemon to break his vow, ſhe broke out into a Torrent of tears, and went out of the chamber, complaining againſt Celidea, and againſt heaven for conſenting unto her ſad Fortune.

Halladine by this time being ready, Thamires, with a thouſand thanks, took [Page] his leave of Damon, and afterwards of the Nymph and the Prince: So likewiſe did Celidea, Licidas, Palemon, Adraſtes, and alſo Hylas, who notwithſtanding all the prayers of Dorinde, Cercinea, Palanice, and Florice, would ſtay no longer from Stella. What Hylas (ſaid Leonide unto him) has Stella more power to draw you from us, then all we together have to ſtay you? Madam, anſwered he, every one muſt follow their Deſtiny: Why, replied ſhe, is not your Deſtiny the ſame it was wont to be? for I have heard you ſay, it was by Deſtiny you loved beauty whereſoever you met with it; if ſo, you muſt needs confeſſe that all theſe fair Ladies have more beauty then Stella alone.

Madam (anſwered Hylas) I call nothing beauty but what pleaſeth me, and if Stella alone do pleaſe me more then all theſe you ſpeak of, is not ſhe her ſelf, more beauty unto me then all they? Upon this, ſay what they could, he went away in the company of thoſe Shepherds and Shepherdeſſes, amongſt which was Halladine, who never in his life undertook a journey more againſt his mind then this, becauſe he left Damon at a time when he might be moſt ſerviceable about his perſon. Almoſt at the end of the Town, they all parted, after abundance of thanks unto Clindor, who accompanied Licidas as far as poſſibly he could. As for Adraſtes, he acknowledged himſelf ſo obliged unto Palemon for the care he had of his cure, that he offered himſelf ſeveral times to go with Halladine in his room, but he would not permit him, becauſe he thought it no ſatisfaction of his vow, if he ſhould go only by proxy: But at laſt, after many difficulties, his importunity ſo far prevailed as to accompany him: This action of Adraſtes gained more upon the good will of Doris, then all his former Courtſhip had done.

That night Hallad [...]ne ſtayed at the houſe of Thamires, where he entertained all the company with all imaginable welcome; but when they were to draw blood from the face of Celidea, her pain was not a little: for blood was to be drawn from every Scar, and the Chirurgion hardly left any part of her face unſcarified, becauſe otherwiſe the Sympathetical ſalve would not work perfect effect. The little ſticks then being all dipped in blood, and dry, they were all lapped up very carefully in linnen clothes, and put into a box: 'So betimes in the morning, Palemon, Adraſtes, and Halladine, all three ſet forwards towards Lions.

All this while neither Amaſis, nor Adamas forgot Climanthes, and it was the next morning he was to come unto Galathea: So as order was taken with Leonide and Silvia over night, to be up betimes the next morning, and to be at the place appointed to receive him, and bring him in: thoſe alſo who were to ſeiz upon him were provided. And the ſun no ſooner begun to appear, but this impoſture came to the garden door, where the two Nymphs received him: as he did very handſomly counterfeit that ſanctity whereof he made profeſſion, ſo Leonide and S [...]lvia, did as well perſonate a great veneration and reſpect of his perſon, which puffed up his ſoul into ſuch a ſwelling pride, that he went as if he admired himſelf.

The Nymph Galathea took him into her cloſet, as it was concluded upon, to the end the Nymph Amaſis, Prince Godomar, Alcidon, and Adamas, might hear what he ſaid, being placed in ſuch convenient corners, that they might hear and ſee and not be ſeen: The gravity of his pace, when he came into the preſence of Galathea, was admirable; but much more the impudence, with which he began to ſpeak unto her: Madam (ſaid he unto her, with a ſevere and Majeſtick look) you have before you an Ambaſſadour, not from a Prince, King or any Monarch upon earth, but from the great and omnipotent Prince of heaven: Conſider well how great a favour this is, and how you ought to receive him: viſits and embaſſies from mortal Princes, what faces ſoever they put on them, are all aimed at the profit of the ſender; but mine cannot be ſuſpected to have any ſuch interreſted aim, ſince all things are the gifts of God, who needs not any thing the world can give: Hark therefore, O Nymph, unto what I ſhall ſay; yet do not heari [...] on your of curioſity, but with a full reſolution to obey, and correſpond unto the good will of this great God unto you: Then he pauſed a while, and Galathea was ſo ſurprized at the admirable impudence of this Impoſture, that ſhe could not anſwer a word: afterwards he begun thus:

[Page]This great God ſaid that unto me; ariſe Climanthis my ſervant, go and talk with Galathea, chide her for a fault which ſhe hath committed; and tell her that puniſhment is ready to fall upon her head: God hath already the whip in his hand, his arm is lifted up; and there wants nothing, but to let it fall again; He who muſt be your husband, and you his wife will this very day be hunting, and paſs by the four ſeveral wayes at Termes: there you may ſee him, that is the very nick of time; let it ſlip, and be eternally miſerable: ſee him, and be eternally happy.

He uttered theſe words, in ſuch an imperious tone, as if a god himſelf had pronounced them: Then changing his behaviour and aſſuming his accuſtomed countenance and ſpeech, he continued: Now, O great Nymph, you know the will of heaven, be more careful to obſerve it then formerly you have been, for otherwiſe, the anger of this great God will overwhelme you. And becauſe communication with this great God, forbids any converſe with men, unleſs by his particular command: give me leave to prophane my ſelf no longer, ſince I have done all that I had in commiſſion.

The Nymph, who admired the goodneſs of God, in ſuch an Impoſture to live, ſhe much deſired to be out of his company, and therefore left him without any anſwer, but that ſhe would be alwayes obedient unto whatſoever the gods commanded her.

But (ſaid ſhe before ſhe went) muſt I go alone, or in company unto Termes; only with one Nymph, anſwered he; but replied ſhe. what will thoſe that ſee me ſay: have a thin Scarf over your face, anſwered he, and you may ſo diſguise your ſelf that none can know you: at what hour, asked ſhe, ſhall I ſee this Huntſman? To morrow, ſaid he, betwixt ſix and ſeven of the clock in the morning, for ſo the god did tell me. Then, ſaid the Nymph, go and thank your God for me, and aſſure him that I will go and ſatisfie his commands. Upon this the Nymph left him, and referred him into the hands of Leonide and Silvia, who accompanied him as far as the Garden door, which they had no ſooner ſhut, but thoſe, who by the command of Adamas watched for his coming, ſeized upon him, and carried him away immediatly to a priſon which was prepared for him: when they took him and put him into priſon, he called them prophane and impious perſons, and Atheiſts, for daring to lay any violent hands upon one that was a friend to the great God: But when they laid Irons upon his feet and hands, he changed colour, and began to tremble; and more, when he ſaw them begin to clog him with more chains.

The gravity wherewith he menaced them hitherto, began to be more mild and calm, and now he fell to prayers and ſupplications: Sirs (ſaid he unto them) what offences have I given unto you? why ſhould you be ſo ſevere againſt me? what advantage will my ruine be unto you? If by any cunning I have endeavoured to get ſomething, and to arive at ſome Grandure, unto whom have I done any wrong? where is he that can complain againſt me? Is it not permitted the birds, who never ſow nor reap, to fly into the fields and feed upon what they can find? If I by any harmleſs art would get a livelyhood, why will they unjuſtly puniſh me for it? Sir, be not you any inſtrument of ſuch injuries, unleſs you do not fear the puniſhment of the gods: I am not yet ſo miſerable and deſtitute of friends, but if you will ſhew any pity upon my age, and ſet me at liberty, I can find out a way to recompence you very bountifully: Do not refuſe a Fortune when it is offered, he that will refuſe it when he may, may go without it when he would have it: No, no, ſaid they, we never make any profit unto our ſelves, but with honour, never with Treaſon; all thy offers do but render thee more culpable, and never hope to corrupt us. Think upon thy faults, and aſſure thy ſelf thou moſt very ſhortly render an accompt, and receive ſallary, according to thy deſerts.

One of the company took notice, that when he thought he was not ſeen, he ſtrived ſeveral times to put his hand into his boſome, but his Irons would not permit [Page] him: ſo as he ſuppoſed, he had there, ſomething of importance. And as they were ſearching him, Adamas and Alcedon, who heard of his being taken, entred; but becauſe they deſired to talk with him alone, they commanded all the Guard to withdraw, then Adamas going unto him, and after he had well looked upon him; Fie, fie, thou wicked Impoſture (ſaid he unto him) art thou not aſhamed to prophane the habit which I ſee thou weareſt? Sir, anſwered he with an impudent brow, I acknowledge you to be my Grand Druide, and I know you ought not to deſpiſe me as you do: for though unworthy, yet am I of the ſame Order whereof you are chief: Heaven defend me (ſaid the Druide) from ſuch impiety, and rather take away my life, then ſuffer me to be the Patron of ſuch Impoſtures. Tell me? how are you qualified? where did you receive your Orders? Sir, anſwered he, it is now almoſt an age, ſince I received them at Dreux. Surely ſaid Adamas, he is mad, he thinks the diſtance of the place will keep us from diſcovering his knavery: why did you come into our juriſdiction without a Licence? I thought, replied he, that it was lawful to ſerve god every where: But do you not know (ſaid Adamas) that none are to officiate in the charge of a Druide in theſe provinces, unleſs I licence them? It is ſo ſhort a time ſince I came (anſwered he) and I have converſed with ſo few, that I never heard of this Ordinance. Did not that God (ſaid Adamas) whom you converſe withall ſo familiarly, advertiſe you of it? The god of whom you ſpeak (replied he) did never talk with me of any ſuch affairs, what then do you talk of (ſaid Adamas) when he commands me (anſwered Climanches) then I ſhall tell you.

Alcedon and Adamas, who knew this man to be a moſt notorious impoſture, they could not chuſe but wonder at his impudence: when one of thoſe who took him came and acquainted them, how he offered to corrupt them, to which he anſwered with extream impudence, that theſe were only meer imaginations, upon which he never entertained the leaſt thought: thus, ſaid he, are innocent men ſcandalized by wicked men; which the ſouldier hearing, and being extremely angry (Sir ſaid he unto Adamas) this is the moſt brazen fac'd lier that ever lived: three of my companions ſtood by, when he gave us that language, and I am moſt confident there is ſomething in his breſt that would convince him: for we have ſeen him ſeveral times ſtrive to take ſomthing out, when he thought we did not ſee him.

Call then your companions (ſaid Adamas) and ſearch him very carefully. At this command, Climanthis was quite out of countenance, for though he was a very ſubtil fellow, yet as Fortune was, when he was almoſt at the Garden door, very early, Polemas ſent him a letter, which he put in his breſt, becauſe he knew not a more ſecret place at that time to lay it up in: and therefore when they began to ſearch him, he made as much reſiſtance as poſſibly he could, puſhing all about him with his arms and head, and throwing them to the ground, as if he were poſſeſſed with ſome devil. This great reſiſtance made Adamas and Alcidon, more deſirous to know what it was: ſo as calling for more help, they ſearched him, and found the Letter, and becauſe it was very dark in the priſon, they went out to read it, and found written theſe words.

POLEMAS his Letter unto CLIMANTHES.

DEar friend of my heart, impatience is alwayes a companion of love; do not therefore wonder I ſhould waken you thus early: at ſeven of the clock I will be at Termes, and a moſt happy hunter ſhall I be if by your contrivance I meet there with what you have promiſed unto me: Once more dear Climanthes, I ſwear that Galathea shall be no ſooner mine, but I will make you a poſeſſour of your dear Leonide, [Page] with what ſhare thou wilt have in the State; of which, if ever I be Lord, I am beholding unto you for it. Force at the worſt will not fail us▪ but I had rather your Prudence ſhould bring it to paſs by fair means: The firſt is more ſafe and certain, but the other more honourable: yet if one do fail, the other ſhall ſerve the turn.

See (ſaid Adamas) what would we know more of this wicked man, here is the whole enterprize diſcovered; Let us ſee (ſaid Alcidon) if we can catch this Hunter at Termes. As for that (replyed Adamas) order is already taken; for Leonide and Silvia are gone thither already, the firſt of them in Galatheas habit, yet with a Scarf about her head; alſo we have placed Lerintes with thirty horſe in a Grange cloſe by; to the end if Polemas paſs by, he may be caught in his own Net. Whilſt they were talking thus, Climanthes ſeeing all his plot quite diſcovered, and expecting nothing but an ignominious death, he fell into ſuch deſpair, that ſeeing himſelf alone in the priſon, he ran his head ſo violently againſt the wall, that blood guſhed out at his eyes and mouth; ſo as when Adamas came again into the priſon, to ask him ſome queſtions, he found him gaſping and grovelling upon the ground, as if he were choaked with a Catarh: they endeavoured to revive him; but all in vain: for he had made ſuch a hole in his head, that his brains came out. Thus died this miſerable man; and thus (ſaid the grand Druide) is the great Tautates juſt, who has brought upon the head of this wicked wretch, that vengeance and miſery which he had prepared for others.

Upon theſe conſiderations Alcidon and Adamas went to render an account unto the Nymph and the Prince Godomar, and they had no ſooner related all paſſages, and ſhewed the Letter, but they heard a great Tumult and noiſe which came from the Gate toward Termes. For Leonide and Silvia being gone thither, and Polemas paſſing by in the habit of a hunter, thinking Galathia was there, he carried them away on pillions, before thoſe who were at the Grange could come time enough to relieve them: for the door being too little, and an iron bar which uſed to ſhut the door falling unluckily a croſs, they could not get out till Polemas had got a good diſstance off; and preſently after appeared four great Bodies of Horſe which came to meet him; ſo as thoſe whom Amaſis ſent, were forced to retreat a little haſtily, which cauſed no ſmall noiſe in the Town.

Adamas then ſeeing that all was diſcovered and that no longer delay was to be uſed, Madam, (ſaid he unto the Nymph) theſe tears which you ſhed for Leonide and Silvia, does indeed argue your natural ſweetneſs, but at this time the neceſſity of your affairs requires you ſhould ſhew the courage of a man, and have recourſe unto remedies of prudence, and not offices of pity: I conceive it expedient to aſſemble the Magiſtrates of the Town, and that you acquaint them not only with the loſs of Prince Clidemant, but alſo with the Treaſon of Polemas and Climanthes, alſo at the ſame time to ſhew them by what mean you intend to ſubdue this Rebel. For the beſt way to content the people, is to put them into great hopes, and to hide all dangers from them. Godomar concurring with his opinion, the moſt notable of them were called▪ and curioſity brought thither abundance of the common ſort: Then the Nymph commanded the grand Druide to let them underſtand the occaſion for which ſhe convened them together; which he did in ſuch eloquent terms, that when he mentioned the death of Prince Clidemant, there was not one in all this great company that did not teſtifie his ſorrows by his tears and ſighs: But when he proceeded and mentioned the enterpriſe of Polemas and Climanthes, not only upon the ſtate, but upon the perſon of Galathea, as he made it apparent by his Letter, and the taking of Leonide and Silvia, thinking the one of them to be Galathea: Then all the people began to cry out with one voice, Murder the Traytor, and long live our great Nymph Amaſis: But when to verifie the truth of all this, he cauſed the body of this Impoſtor to be brought out, and related his tricks, his deſigns, and his death: Firſt the children, next them, the common ſort of people, and at laſt almoſt all fell upon this Corps, and drawing it by the [Page] legs almoſt quite out of the Caſtle, and threw it in a ditch: But as if this were not revenge enough, the people went again unto him, and hurried him by the heels out of the Town, doing all the ignominy imaginable unto it.

The chief of them in the mean time, and the moſt notable, did not remove until they heard all that Adamas had to ſay unto them from the Nymph: And when Adamas had done, Clindor who for his Age, Quality, and Prudence, all the Aſſembly made choice of to give the anſwer, he ſpoke in this manner.

THe loſs Madam, which you have had, does not concern only one Perſon, or one Family, but it is general, and not only all this Country has a ſhare in it, but alſo all the Gauls, nay all Europe may bewail the loſs of ſo great a Prince. You ſee how our Tears and our Groans do accompany your grief, and how we give you this outward teſtimony of the inward reſentment of our Souls: I muſt confeſs all this is but a feeble remedy againſt ſo great a diſaſter; yet it may be ſome comfort unto you to ſee how ſadly all your faithful Subjects do take unto themſelves a ſhare in all your griefs and misfortunes. But Madam, we muſt all needs confeſs, that this ſecond News which you have told us, does pierce us to the very heart, with more ſtinging reſentments then the firſt: For the death of a Prince whom none of us did ever think mortal, unleſs in his Reputation and Honour, is not ſo hard to be endured, as is the ſtain of Perfidie and Treaſon upon this Country, which before was never ſeen, nor ſo much as imagined. Oh Heavens! Madam, that ſuch Monſters ſhould be found in Forreſts amongſt us, and in our days: I wonder our Earth (unaccuſtomed to ſuch an ignominious burthen) does not ſwallow them up alive. We know not what to ſay, nor think, unleſs that Heaven being offended at us for our ſins, will puniſh us more grievouſly then all ages paſt. This ſtain upon us does ſwell us with ſo much grief, as we cannot lift up our eyes to weep, nor open our mouths to lament and ſigh for ſo great a ſhame. Yet ſince the good ought not to be charged with the crimes of the wicked, we will lift up our eyes unto you, Madam, and ſpeak in behalf of this Town, and we dare ſay of all the Country, if we had time to confer with them. Madam, as becomes your faithful Subjects, we do offer unto you all that is within theſe Walls, our Eſtates, our Children, our Blood, our Lives: Proteſting before Heſus, Belinus, Tharamis, our great Tautates, that as long as we live, and as long as you live, we will not have any Soveraign over us but Amaſis: And we will as ſoon fail in our Duties to the Gods, as in our Fealty to you, not ſparing either Eſtates, Children, or Lives: And in teſtification of this, let every one lift up his hand and his heart, and cry, Long live the Nymph Amaſis.

Upon this, the hands of all the Aſſembly were ſeen above their heads, and ſuch a ſhout that it was heard further then all over the Town.

As the Nymph was returning them hearty thanks for the demonſtrations of their good wills, Adamas was advertiſed that the ſouldiers which had been levied in the province were very near the gates, which cauſed the Nymph to abreviate her ſpeech, that ſhe might view this welcome and neceſſary ſuccour. Be pleaſed to know (ſaid the man that brought the news) That they are at leaſt fifteen hundred, the beſt armed, and in the beſt order that was ſeen a long time; for they [Page] imagined that they came upon the Ceremony of the Miſleto, ſo as they had trimmed up themſelves to the beſt advantage. Thus all the Aſſembly parted with ſuch extream forwardneſs to ſerve the Nymph, that ſhe was exceedingly encouraged.

In the mean time, Adamas cauſing the gates to be opened, theſe ſouldiers entred in ſuch an excellent poſture, that all thoſe who ſaw them, thought them to be men of very good ſervice, all their caps were crowned with oak leaves, for ſo was the cuſtome of all thoſe that were called to the Ceremony, as they were. They were no ſooner drawn up into a body, but they were appointed Captains, Lieutenants, and other military officers, unto whom they were to be obedient, preſently after, they were diſtributed into quarters, as well for the defence of the walls, as to guard the ſtreets and paſſes in the Town. Then taking a view of all the horſe, counting thoſe which the Queen Argira left, and thoſe which Prince Godomar brought, the number was two hundred and fifty, which alſo were divided into five troops, fifty in each; all the foot were put under charge of Damon, who not being perfectly recovered of his wounds, could hardly wear arms or get on horſeback, yet he went into the Town, and viſited the walls and works. On the other ſide, Alcedon had the charge of all the horſe, and put them into as good a poſture as poſſibly could be. In the mean time Prince Godomar, who was general, did viſit the Magazines both in the Caſtle and Town, and by the prudent advice of Adamas, provided all things which he could foreſee neceſſary upon all occaſions.

In the mean time Polemas was ſo proud of his price, that he thought upon nothing leſs already, then the ſump [...]uoſity of his marriage, and the magnificence of his train: for verily thinking that Galathea was in his power, he had no thoughts but upon his marriage, and that nothing could retard his happineſs, for he valued not the content of the Nymph, though he knew ſhe would be extreamly againſt it; but being fully reſolved, according to the councel of Climanthes, to add force unto his prayers, he believed that after he was once his wife ſhe would then be more tractable. But when he came to Surien, and with abund [...]n [...]e of honour and reſpect accoſted Leonide, whom he took for Galathea, and at the very firſt word ſhe ſpoke, he found his miſtake. O how dead was he then ſtruck? which Leonide perceiving, and deſiring if it were poſſible to deceive the deceiver, ſhe took him by one hand and Silvia by another, O Polemas (ſaid ſhe) you had committed the greateſt errour that ever you did in all your life, and if he who carried me away behind him, would have ſuffered me to have ſpoke unto you, as I deſired him a hundred times, I had prevented it. For this morning a Druide (if it be lawful to call ſo ſacred a perſon by that name) came unto Galathea from his God, to command her to marry him, whom at ſeven of the clock in the morning, ſhe ſhould ſee paſs by the four wayes at Termes: and if ſhe did not, to aſſure her ſelf that all the reſt of her dayes ſhould be moſt miſerable, and ſhe the moſt unfortunate woman in the world: The Nymph ſhe made a full account to go, and be obedient unto this command, rather then be miſerable all her life; but when ſhe was juſt ready to go out, ſhe fell ſick and was forced to go to bed: But yet being extreamly deſirous to know him that was deſtinied to be her husband, ſhe commanded us to go thither, and tell her the name and quality of him that paſſed by the firſt, thinking that him whom the gods did chuſe for her to be her husband, was a better choiſe then ſhe her ſelf could make. I ſay therefore, that if you had not been ſo raſh in carrying, us away certainly upon our report, the Nymph would have ſent unto you before night, and acquainted you with her mind.

Polemas hearing this, and knowing what Climanthes had told her, he repented himſelf of his carrying them away ſo haſtily; yet ſeeing Leonide in Galatheas clothes: but how comes it to paſs, ſaid he, that you are in her clothes? As for that, anſwered Leonide, when the Ceremony of driving the ſacred nails was, ſhe gave unto me and ſeveral others of my companions, this ſute like unto her own: but, ſaid Polemas, why were you ſo hudded that none could know you? becauſe (anſwered Leonide) many uſed to paſs by that way, and were deſirous to be unknown. [Page] But, replied he, what was the meaning of thoſe horſemen that purſued us? I believe, anſwered ſhe, that they were ſome of the Queen Argiras men, who going to wait upon her part of the way, returned again to the Princeſs Reſanira, who ſtayes at Marcelles, and they ſeeing us carryed away, and hearing us cry out, thought themſelves obliged to relieve us without our knowledge, or deſigne. What buſineſs, ſaid Polemas, had the Queen Argira there? We do not know, anſwered Leonide, ſhe has been indeed ſome dayes in the Caſtle, but ſo cloſe and retired, that we did not ſo much as know her name till the day ſhe departed.

Polemas calling for Peliodontes, Argonides, Liſtander, and Ligonias, acquainted them with what Leonide told him, and they were all of opinion that it was beſt to ſend them back again unto Galathea, with an excuſe that ſome hunters took them away unknown unto Polemas, and in the mean time to oblige Leonide and Silvia by all manner of courteſies to ſay ſo. Polemas then cauſed a coach to be made ready for them, and uſing them with all poſſible reverence and kindneſſe, he profeſſed a thouſand ſervices; and waiting upon them to the coach, beſeeched them both to be his friends upon this occaſion, with all poſſible promiſes of remuneration. You may be ſure, that they for their parts, did promiſe to do wonders for him, and taking his leave of them, he returned to his chamber, the fulleſt of hopes that ever was man: but he and his four privy councellers had no ſooner ſhut the door; but the ſon of Merouthes, his correſpondent in Marcelles, came to ſpeak with him▪ as ſoon as he came into the chamber, Sir, ſaid he, I am very ſorry to be the meſſenger of ill news, but ſince I am commanded by a Father, and knowing how neceſſary it is you ſhould be acquainted with it, I thought it may as well come to your ear by me as by another; know then Sir, that all your enterprize is diſcovered, and the Nymph hath publiſhed it unto the aſſembly: How came the Nymph to know it (ſaid Polemas) ſhe ſhewed unto them a letter (anſwered the young man) which you writ unto a certain Druide called Climanthes, who is dead. O (cryed out Polemas) is Climanth [...]s dead? Yes certainly (anſwered he) for I ſaw him hang by the heels at the gate as I came hither. O gods, replied Climanthes, that ſo great a perſon as the univerſe had not his fellow, ſhould come to ſuch a diſaſterous end? upon this he and his four confidents enquiring more particularly of all circumſtances, they underſtood that Adamas was acceſſory to his death, and that it was he who had contrived it, which made them believe, that Leonide knew all that this young man had related unto them. Doubtleſs ſhe does (anſwered he) for ſhe and Silvia cauſed him to be taken, at leaſt, the common report is ſo. Oh God (ſaid Polemas in a mighty fury) let ſome ride after, and bring them back, and if I can but get them again, they ſhall pay for this wicked act. Upon this Ligonias in all poſſible haſte diſparched away fifty Horſe, with expreſs command to bring them back: In obedience to which, they mounted, and ſetting ſpurs to horſe, did gallop away with full ſpeed: but the Nymphs being gone a full quarter of an hour before theſe men took horſe, and Leonide fearing left any ſhould follow them, ſhe deſired the coachman to drive as faſt as he could, which he did, until one of the wheels broke quite in two: Judge you in what a condition theſe two Ladies were in, who looked every minute for ſome to fetch them back. The Coachman ſeeing no other remedy, told them that he would go into the next Town to try if he could borrow another Coach: They alſo ſeeing no other remedy, deſired him to make haſte, and when he was gone, they began to conſult with themſelves what they ſhould do. For, ſaid Leonide, if Polemas do hear what has hapned unto Climanthes, moſt certainly he will purſue us, and it is not impoſſible but ſome may give him intelligence of it. And if he ſhould have us again in his power, God knows how he would uſe us: certainly Siſter, ſaid Silvia, he would purſue us; but what ſhall we do to prevent being taken; I am reſolved, ſaid Leonide, to go away on foot; but Siſter, ſaid Silvia, what ſhall we do when night comes upon us: I had rather, ſaid Leonide, be torn in pieces by wolves, then fall again into the hands of theſe men: whilſt they were thus talking and unreſolved what to do, they eſpied the horſe within a mile of them: Siſter, ſaid Leonide, yonder they come, and for my part I [Page] will leave you if you will not follow me: Silvia in a terrible fear began to follow, but being buſied in tucking up her coats, and coming into a thick wood by the high way, ſhe could not overtake her companion, by reaſon of the Buſhes and Bryers; ſo as preſently after, the Horſemen coming to the Coach, and finding it empty, they diſperſed themſelves all about the Wood; and ſpying Silvia, they all ran unto her, thinking they were both there: but finding only one, they fell all in queſt again after the other yet all in vain; for ſhe was wandered into the wood upon the left hand, where there was ſo many Boggs and Buſhes, that Horſes could not paſs: She being very crafty, in lieu of going towards Mount Briſon or Marcelles, s;he took the quite contrary way, ſo as they never made that way; but after abundance of pains in ſeeking for her, night coming upon them they were conſtrained to return.

The Coach was by this time mended, and thoſe who took Silvia, carried her unto it, ſtaying there till the reſt found Leonide; but thoſe that were in queſt of her, returning without any news of her, and Silvia ſaying that when ſhe parted from her, ſhe went another way, they reſolved to look no more for her at that time, but to go unto Polemas, becauſe it began to be night.

Leonide on the other ſide, had ſo hid her ſelf, ſomtimes in the thick of the Wood, and ſomtimes amongſt Bogges and Rocks, that it was almoſt impoſſible to find her; but the face of heaven beginning to mask it ſelf with darkneſs, ſhe knew not what to do: She was a woman of a good ſpirit, and none of thoſe that uſe to be affrighted at trifles; but being in ſuch a ſalvage place, where ſhe heard nothing but the murmuring of a Torrent, and the ſcrieks of Owls, and ſeeing nothing but a hollow darkneſs, not knowing which way to go, nor having any thing to eat, a perſon of a greater courage then hers, might very well apprehend ſome melancholy fears; ſhe ſate long upon a great ſtone, as well becauſe ſhe was very weary, as to hearken whether any followed her; but hearing none, and the moon beginning to ſhine, ſhe roſe up, and looked every way about her; and neither ſeeing nor hearing any, ſhe went up to the top of a little hill, from whence ſhe thought ſhe ſaw a light, and towards which ſhe made her courſe: But when ſhe was come near it, ſhe was afraid to find thoſe from whom ſhe fled; ſo as turning a little upon the left hand, ſhe walked on, until it was break of day, where ſhe found another wood. In this place ſhe intended to ſtay until it was night: the length of the way had wearied her, her fears perplexed her, and hunger did much preſs her; yet ſleep being above all, it ſeized upon her eyes, and ſhe ſlept until the evening; when a very young Shepherdeſs ſeeking for an Ewe that was ſtrayed. came by chance unto the place where Leonide was; and admiring to ſee her in ſuch gliſtering clothes, ſhe began to run away, thinking her ſome Goddeſs; but the Nymph beckning unto her with her hand, ſhe came unto her; Sweetheart (ſaid ſhe) have you either a Mother or an Aunt? My mother (anſwered the wench and trembled) is in our houſe, but my Aunt and my Father are dead long ſince. And what (ſaid the Nymph) are you looking for here? For an Ewe (anſwered the wench) which is ſtrayed, Well (ſaid Leonide) go unto thy mother, bid her come hither to me; but bid her be ſure ſhe bring none with her but thee nor tell any body; as for the Ewe which thou art looking for, I will give thee a ſcore. The wench very glad of ſuch news to carry unto her mother, for they were very poor, ſhe ran unto her, and told her, that yonder was a Goddeſs in the fineſt clothes that ever was ſeen, who deſired to ſpeak with her, and had promiſed her a ſcore of Ewes. The mother who had more wit then the daughter, enquired the place where ſhe was, and leaving her at home, with expreſs charge to tell no body, ſhe went unto Leonide, whom as ſoon as ever ſhe ſaw in that place, ſo clad, ſhe knew her to be a perſon of ſome great quality; therefore making her a low curteſie, Madam (ſaid ſhe) what ſervice is it your pleaſure to command me? Good woman (anſwered Leonide) come hither into this thicket, that none may ſee us, and tell me whether you ſaw any horſemen ſeeking for one? Oh Madam, it is not above an hour ſince there was above a dozen ſuch who ſaid they had been riding up and down all the night long. And what (ſaid the Nymph) is become of them? I know not Madam (anſwered ſhe) whether they be aſleep in ſome Country houſe, [Page] for they ſeemed to be very weary. Good woman (ſaid the Nymph) pray ſee if there be any of them yet, for they are enemies to the Nymph Amaſis, and ſeek for me, deſiring to do me ſome miſchief, becauſe I belong to her. Madam (ſaid the Country woman) if Agis our Lord were here, I dare ſay he would guard you from any harm, but he has been long out of the Country in the ſervice of Clidemant. Well good woman (ſaid the Nymph) Agis is my Kinſman, and one of the beſt friends I have, and therefore for his ſake help me upon this occaſion, and ſee whether any of theſe wicked men remain yet hereabouts. The good Country woman after a promiſe to ſerve her with all fidelity, went and ſpied about all the Town, whether any of them were there; and found not only them, but many others enquiring for the Nymph, and promiſing large rewards to any that could inform them, with a menace of cruel puniſhment to any that ſhould conceal her: The woman who was ſubtle enough for one of her condition, and knew the deſigne of theſe men to be naught, ſeemed as if ſhe knew nothing of her, but went to her houſe, got an old tatter'd Petticoat and Waſtcoat, and when ſhe ſaw none within compaſs of ſeeing her, ſhe went again to the Wood, related all that ſhe had learned, and adviſed her to put off her own clothes, which would diſcover her, and put on thoſe. The Nymph was not all day undreſſing her ſelf, and putting on the clothes of this Country woman; but becauſe it was late, and the Nymph had an opinion they would look for her all the night, ſhe had no mind to go unto Marcelles, till it was time to carry ſomthing to the Market; and though ſhe was much diſguiſed, yet her Beauty was but too viſible; ſo as getting ſome mud, ſhe did ſo fully her face and her hands, as would indeed have ſooner moved laughter then love: As for her own clothes, ſhe hid them in a Buſh, and would not let the woman carry them, left they ſhould be found in her houſe, and ſo cauſe a diſcovery: The woman obeyed her, though with much regret, for ſhe thought they would have enriched her for ever: which Leonide perceiving, good woman (ſaid ſhe) never trouble your ſelf for things of ſo ſmall a value; if you can but get me into Marcelles, I will give you a hundred times more then they are worth. The Sun was already ſet, and the night began to be very dark, which might well invite the Nymph to go out of the Wood with confidence enough, which yet ſhe did not without trembling; knowing that thoſe from whom ſhe fled, were in the Town: But the good woman, who undertook to be her guide, did hearten her as well as ſhe could, and by the way, did bid her ſay unto any that ſhould ask her who ſhe was, that ſhe was her daughter, and that ſhe had lived three years amongſt the mountains, in a place called Viverois.

This advice proved to be very good, for they were no ſooner entred into her little houſe, but four or five Souldiers entred alſo, who ſearched every corner in the Cottage; ſo as if her clothes had been there, all had been diſcovered: whilſt ſome of them were very buſie in ſearchings, others were as buſie in queſtioning and enquiring after Leonide: The little Wench who had ſeen her in the Wood, not thinking any harm, you ſeek (ſaid ſhe) for a fair Goddeſs, all gold and ſilver, and perhaps I can tell you where ſhe is, for I ſaw her to day not far from hence. Oh heavens, how Leonide ſtarted when ſhe heard this, and the good woman alſo! yet to avoid ſuſpition, where (ſaid ſhe unto the childe) did you ſee her? Upon this all the Souldiers flocked about her, and preſſed her to tell. Sirs (ſaid the mother very craftily) if my daughter do tell you, I pray let her have the reward that is promiſed, it will be a good portion for her, and will advance her marriage; then taking her by the hand, ſhe went out of the houſe, ſeeming as if ſhe would make her daughter conduct them unto the place where ſhe ſaw her, though indeed it was only to get the Souldiers out of the houſe: But ſhe carried them to the very place, where they found Leonides clothes, and thought that the little wench ſaid true, but that they came too late: and as there are always ſome more ſubtle then others, ſo one of the Souldiers, whilſt the reſt were ſearching about, did take the wench aſide, and with fair words got out of her, that her mother did know of her, for ſhe acquainted her with it as ſoon as ſhe ſaw her; ſo as it was preſently concluded amongſt them, that this old woman had hid her in ſome place or other; therefore threatning to kill her, and to burn her houſe if ſhe did not tell them where ſhe was, [Page] the poor woman was forced to tell them, that it was ſhe whom they ſaw in her houſe, but beſeeched them to do her no harm, for ſhe was cozen unto Agis who was Lord of the place, and ſhould he come to know of it he would ruine her. The Souldiers, as glad of this as if they had won a battel, ran all to the houſe: but Leonide doubting that this little wench might perhaps blab it out, that ſhe had told her mother, no ſooner ſaw them out of the houſe, but taking a piece of bread which ſhe found upon the table, ſhe went out at the back door, and recomending her ſelf unto Tautates, ſhe ran into the open fields, not knowing which way ſhe went, yet ſtopping ſometimes to take breath, and to hearken whether any followed her.

The ſouldiers in the mean time coming to the door, and finding it ſhut, did knock a while, thinking that Leonide had ſhut it for fear; but ſeeing ſhe would not anſwer, they offered to break it open.

The countrey woman, being very ſorry to ſee her houſe thus broken, O Madam (cryed ſhe out) they have promiſed to do you no harm, therefore I beſeech open the door, and do not cauſe my houſe to be thus hurt. But ſhe might have cryed loud and long enough before Leonide heard her. In the mean time all the Town flocked together at this noiſe, and after the ſouldiers had broken open the doore, they entred, and ſearched it as if they had been looking for a needle: At laſt, the Souldiers being out of hope, and vexed to the heart they could not find her, they ſet fire upon the houſe, and burnt it to aſhes, with all the houſholdſtuff and eſtate this poor woman had, who in her little Fortune may be example unto greater, ſince there was but a moment betwixt her hopes of happineſs, and her certainty of utter ruine.

Leonide, who had taken upon the right hand towards the gardens of Mountbriſon, though ſhe was got a good diſtance off, yet could ſhe ſee the fire of the little houſe, and gueſſing at the cauſe, ſhe pitied the poor woman in her ſoul, with intention to relieve her, if ever ſhe found a fit opportunity, But this thought did not hinder her from making all the haſt ſhe could, for ſhe was ſure ſhe ſhould be purſued; and therefore the moon ſhining, ſhe made ſuch haſt, as at the break of day, ſhe ſpied the Caſtle of Marcelles, which did ſo encourage her, and mend her pace, that at Sun riſing ſhe came to the garden door, out of which ſhe came when ſhe went unto Termes: her joy was great when ſhe came there, but not compleat till ſhe came as Galathea. She knocked at the door three or four times, and had hardly patience to ſtay till the Gardiner came to open it; but when Fleuriall ſaw her in ſuch an equipage, and knew her not, he would not let her enter: what Fluriall (ſaid ſhe unto him) not know me? or art thou out of thy witts? I know your tongue (anſwered he) but not your habit nor your face: Well, well, Fluriall (ſaid ſhe) ſhut the door, and bring me ſome water, and then thou wilt know my face as well as my tongue.

Then ſhe went to the Gardiners lodge, where waſhing her face and hands, well Fluriall (ſaid ſhe) doſt know me now? I think (ſaid he) that you are a Fairy, that can change themſelves as they pleaſe: But Madam, I wonder you ſhould never ſpeak unto me any more concerning Lindamor, but ſeem as if he were now quite out of memory. O friend (ſaid Leonide and ſighed) didſt thou know the condition wherein we are, and what hazards I run for him, thou wouldſt ſay I am the beſt friend he has. But prethee tell me, darſt thou venter a journey to him, if I ſhould have occaſion to ſend thee? Courage Madam? anſwered he, yes, I dare go to him, though it were to the furtheſt part of all the earth. Since ſo (ſaid ſhe) prepare thy ſelf, for perhaps thou ſhalt go ſooner then thou art aware. Not ſo ſoon (ſaid he) as I deſire: for Madam, I love Lindamor above my own ſoul; above me? ſaid Leonide, and ſmiled, yes, ſaid he: and above Galathea! ſaid Leonide, and becauſe he made no anſwer, art thou mute (ſaid ſhe) why doſt thou not anſwer? I do not anſwer, replied he, becauſe I am meaſuring the affection which I bear unto them, and I find the ſcale ſo even, that I know not on which ſide it will lean.

She would have continued longer, if ſhe had not heard the Caſtle door open, which let into the Garden, and ſeeing the draw-bridge let down, ſhe went unto [Page] Galatheas antichamber, meeting none that knew her; but the Groom of the Chamber ſeeing her ſo clad, he would not ſuffer her to enter, thinking her to be ſome countrey impudent woman that knew not what ſhe did: But Leonide ſaying unto him, what friend, know you none but by their habits? are you of the nature of Lions? then he knew her, and not being able to forbear laughing at her dreſs, he beſeeched her to pardon his miſtake, aſſuring her it might well have been anothers fault as well as his: Then ſhe went on into Galatheas Chamber, who was newly wakened: all thoſe that ſaw her enter did not know her, and ſeeing her go to the Nymphs bed ſide, ran unto her to hinder her, but ſhe puſhed them off, and took hold of Galatheas hand which ſhe put forth to draw the curtain, and to ſee what was the cauſe of the noiſe which ſhe made: The Nymph ſeeing one kiſs her hand that was in ſuch ragged clothes, ſhe knew not what to think, but asked what woman it was, and why they would ſuffer her to enter before they acquainted her, I beſeech you Madam (ſaid Leonide) do not drive me out of your chamber, for I aſſure you, the pains I have taken in coming hither deſerves better treatment.

O good gods (cryed out the Nymph) it is Leonide, then raiſing up her ſelf in her bed, and looking her in the face, ſhe embraced and kiſſed her with abundance of affection: O ſweetheart (ſaid ſhe) how I am over joyed to ſee you, and how many tears for you have theſe two dayes coſt me? then looking her again in the face, ſhe kiſſed her, and hugg' her in her arms. The reſt of the Nymphs, her companions, hearing of her return, ran half undreſt to ſee her, and bid her welcome home: And as Galathea was asking her how ſhe eſcaped, and where ſhe left Silvia, the Nymph Amaſis hearing ſhe was there, ſent for her, with abundance of impatiency, to ſee her: for Adamas being then with her, and longing extreamly to ſee his Neice, Amaſis was very deſirous he ſhould enjoy that contentment in her preſence; ſo as ſhe was conſtrained to leave Galathea and go unto her in that ragged dreſs. Though the Nymph and the Druide had buſineſs enough in their heads to keep them from laughing, yet now they could not chuſe when they ſaw her in that pickle. When ſhe kiſſed the Nymphs hand, and did reverence to her uncle, Madam (ſaid Leonide) not long ſince I was infinitly deſirous to ſee you, but now truly I am extreamly aſhamed to ſee you being as I am. No, no, ſaid Amaſis, I am very glad to ſee you in any habit; but pray tell us how you eſcaped the hands of thoſe wicked men, and where you left Silvia? Then ſhe began to make relation, when Galathea entred into her mothers chamber half undreſt, but impatient to underſtand the Fortunes of Leonide and Silvia: ſo then ſhe related all her adventures, in ſuch emphatical terms and expreſſions, that the Nymphs did ſometimes even tremble at the dangers wherein ſhe was, and otherwhiles admiring her prudence and courage, but blaming the faint-heartedneſſe of Silvia, which Adamas excuſed upon conſideration of her youth. But certainly (ſaid he) ſhe is not in ſo much danger as Leonide was, for ſhe being my Neice, might for my ſake expect the worſt of that Rebels revenge; but as for Silvia, what cauſe can they have to treat her ill: No, no, Madam, I aſſure my ſelf they will ſend her back unto you, and had it not been for Leonide, they would never have ſent after Silvia, for you ſee when Silvia was in their hands, yet they purſued the other almoſt to the very walls of the Town.

Upon this, Leonide making an humble reverence to the Nymph, ſhe beſeeched her to let her go and change her fine veſtments, ſo as Galathea went out alſo with her. The news was preſently all over the Caſtle that Leonide had eſcaped out of the hands of Polemas, and that Silvia ſtill remained: as news does commonly get in the telling, ſo did this, and ſo much, that before it got into the Town, a thouſand indignities were ſaid to be offered unto that wiſe Lady: which reaching the eares of Ligdamon, did ſo ſurprize him, that half out of himſelf he ran to Leonide, beſeeching and conjuring her, by all the moſt preſſing expreſſions he could invent, to tell him the truth of things. She who knew what affection that Cavalier bore unto Silvia, ſhe leſſened the danger as much as poſſibly ſhe could, and told him that ſhe choſe rather to remain in the hands of Polemas, then run the danger of flying; but doubtleſs ſhe was wiſe in it, for certainly Polemas would [Page] ere long ſend her back, and the reaſon of her ſtay ſo long, was only the breaking of a Coach wheel; and that when they ſpoke unto Polemas, they received all manner of curteſie and civility from him.

This did a little calm the mind of Ligdamon, who had already a thouſand deſignes upon the life of Polemas, and ſpoke them aloud, which cauſed the correſpondent of Polemas to ſend him word preſently, that he ſhould take good heed of Ligdamon. Mean while the Souldiers who had taken Silvia, did put her into the Coach, and carried her to Polemas, who miſſing of Leonide, was vexed to the ſoul, for he was more animated againſt her, by reaſon of Adamas her Uncle: but paſſing ſuch ways where horſes could not come, the Souldiers that were in queſt of her, did miſs her, and returned home at night ſo weary, that their horſes could hardly ſet one foot before another: But when Polemas ſaw ſhe had eſcaped, his anger was extream; and ſhutting up Silvia cloſe Priſoner, did menace her, and terrifie her exceedingly: Poor Silvia not uſed to ſuch treatments, was much aſtoniſhed; yet knowing her ſelf innocent from all harm, ſhe committed her ſelf to the protection of God, from whom ſhe hoped for undoubted aid: And yet the grief which Polemas reſented at the death of Climanthes was ſo great, that he was apt enough for any barbarous deſigne againſt her; but Argonides one of his four great confidents reſtrained the execution of his fury, telling him, that it was poor revenge to take it upon a ſilly woman, and would render him odious unto all that ſhould hear of it. What then (replyed Polemas) muſt we ſit ſtill, and leave the death of our friends unrevenged? Stay but a while (anſwered Argonides) and you may carve what revenge you pleaſe; for I hope you have men enow to take Marcelles this night, and then if you will, you may make yond wicked Adamas pay according to his merits. Oh (ſaid Polemas) I ſhould be fully contented if that Traytor were but in my hands, or any that belongs unto him. Oh Sir (ſaid Peledontes) if that will content you, I ſhall do it for you; you know that he has one ſon, and one daughter; the ſon has not been of late in the Country, but as I am told, will very ſhortly return from the Coaſt of the Allobroges; but till he do return, I will ſend to the Banks of Lignon, where his daughter, who is a Druide, has lived amongſt a company of Shepherdeſſes ever ſince ſhe came from Carnuthes: I have a Souldier who knows the place very well, and who no longer then yeſterday had diſcourſe with me about it, when we talked of Leonides eſcape▪ The loſs of this daughter would more ſting the heart of that old knave, then would the loſs of Leonide, who is only his Niece. Oh my dear friend (ſaid Polemas, and was even ready to kiſs him) I ſhould think my ſelf infinitely obliged unto you, if you could deliver that daughter of his into my hands, and till I could meet with a more ſolid revenge, ſhe ſhould content me. Sir (ſaid Peliodontes) ſpeak not a word more of it, rely upon me, and to morrow by this time ſhe ſhall be in your power. He went preſently to his houſe, and ſending for his Souldier, he gave him the command of fifty other Souldiers, and commanded him to ſeize upon Alexis, yet without doing her as little hurt as poſſibly he could, and to bring her unto him. The Souldier ſet out an hour before day, and went towards Aſtreas Town.

In the mean time Alerantes having told Polemas what anſwer he had received from the Nymph, he had a deſire to be gone, but Polemas deſired him to ſtay two days longer, that he might carry unto the King the certain news of the taking Marcelles, for he made himſelf ſure of taking it upon the very firſt Aſſault. Alerantes who ſaw ſuch a confluence of Souldiers from all ſides, and all things neceſſary for ſuch an enterprize in readineſs, did think that two days would be quickly over, and in the mean time diſpatched a Letter, importing the cauſe of his ſtay.

Over night, Polemas commanded his Army to draw all up into a Body, and in the morning, as ſoon as it was day, to march towards Marcelles, and would not loſe ſo much time as to take a muſter of them, but relyed upon the report of Argonides, that they were eighteen thouſand Foot, and of Peliodontes, that they were eight thouſand Horſe; ſo as about two hours before day, the Moon ſhining very bright, they began to apply themſelves unto thoſe orders which he had given [Page] them. Liſtander who had been long before preparing Engines of War, ſent ſuch in carriages as were neceſſary for a ſudden ſtorm, leaving ſuch behind him as were requiſite for a long ſiege: In the firſt place he ſent Ladders, of which there were ſeveral ſorts; one was Ladders of Ropes with hooks, which being flung up by ſtrength of Arm, catched hold of the Battlements, and hung down with ſteps of cord, like Ladders. Another ſort which they called Cranes, formerly called Tollones, which being planted to a wall, was reſemblant unto a pair of weighing ſcales, with a beam, which as one end goes up, another goes down, and would convey up five or ſix men at a time, in Baskets like Panniers, and Cords fixed at them, to pull them up and down at either end; ſo as when five men at one end, were at the top, other five were getting into the Panniers at the bottome, and ſo like two baskets, wh [...]lſt one was going up, the other was coming down for more. This Engine was ſet upon wheels, with a kind of Rampart to defend thoſe that were to plant it.

Beſides theſe kind of Scaling Ladders, there were abundance of the common ſort, and abundance of Hurdles and Faggots to fill up Ditches, and make Galleries for Souldiers to paſs under, and abundance of freſh Hides to cover them, as a defence againſt fire or arrow ſhot. They had alſo certain Engines which they called Plutoes, and which indeed were little penthouſes upon wheels, under which they approached the walls, and under them worked to undermine them. They had alſo Cats, and Cat Caſtles, Rams, Rats and Foxes; all Engines with which they approached walls, and took their names from a reſemblance unto thoſe Animals. But above the reſt, the Tortoiſe was the moſt admirable; for it was forte foot in length, twenty in wideneſs, and twelve foot high; it was moved forward upon Rowlers, and under it were ſheltered many Pioneers, or others to work in Trenches, or to approach the walls.

Of all theſe there was abundance of each ſort; for being ſubject to be burnt, it was requiſite to have many of them; and indeed the carriages were ſo many, as they almoſt filled all the way betwixt Surien and the gardens of Mount Briſon.

In the mean time Polemas ordered every thing for this aſſault, writing Tickets unto every Officer what they ſhould do; And as ſoon as day appeared, taking Horſe with all his Officers and Souldiers, he rode into the head of the Army, to diſperſe ſeveral orders unto them. And becauſe it was impoſſible ſo many men ſhould rendezvouz from all Quarters, unknown unto Adamas, he preſently acquainted the Nymph and Prince Godomar, who ſent ſome Troops of Horſe to ſcour the ways all the night long, and appointed Damon to have a vigilant eye unto the Walls and Gates, and places moſt neceſſary to be guarded. But by fortune, juſt before the Gates were ſhut, Leontidas returned from Lions, to the great joy of Prince Godomar, for he did paſſionately deſire to hear from Prince Sigiſmond his Brother; he went therefore preſently to the Nymph, not doubting but Leontidas would be there, where he found Roſanira and Dorinde in her Cloſet, and the Nymph thought it fitter to hear his report in private, rather then in publique.

The Sequel of the Hiſtory of DORINDE and Prince SIGISMOND.

AS ſoon as Leontidas was entered, and done all due reverence unto the Nymph, to Godomar, and to the Princeſs; Madam (ſaid he,) I come from a place where I have received all manner of honour, and all manner of diſcurteſie; honour from Prince Sigiſmond, and diſcurteſie from King Gondebaut: And that you may underſtand all things in order, be pleaſed to know Madam, that according to the command which I received from Prince Godomar, I came into Lions, not acquainting any from whom I came; As ſoon as it was night, I made the cauſe of my Voyage known unto Prince Sigiſmond, and beſeeched him to admit [...] [...]nto the ſpeech of him. That Prince was indeed kept [Page] a priſoner in his houſe by command from Gondebaut, but not ſo cloſe as ſome report, nor ſo but any may ſpeak with him when he pleaſe, and almoſt every night he goes out and viſits the Princeſs Clotilda. As ſoon as ever, he heard of my arival, he ſent one of his men unto me to bring me up a back pair of ſtairs into his cloſet, where preſently after he came and received me with ſo kind a countenance, as made it evident I was welcome unto him. The firſt queſtion he asked me was, how the Prince his brother did; but the ſecond was, not ſtaying for an anſwer to the firſt, how the fair Dorinde did, and ſo empathically, as I ſaw his heart was in his tongue; and after he had asked me many particular queſtions concerning her, Cavalier (ſaid he) I beſeech you excuſe my paſſionate curioſity, for the very truth is, I do love that fair one above my life.

Dorinde at this bluſhed, and held her hands before her face: Nay, nay, fair one, replied Leontidas, never bluſh at what I ſay, for moſt aſſuredly he loves you beyond my capacity of language to expreſs, and then he continued: The Prince then thus excuſing himſelf, he asked me, Madam, how you did, and offered himſelf to aſſiſt me in all things that conduced to your ſervice: for, ſaid he, I am much obliged unto her for her merit, but much more for the kindneſs ſhe ſhews unto Dorinde, as I am informed by a Souldier belonging to Clorantes, who followed my brother under pretence of being one of his men, and ſo got into Marcelles, where he ſaw Dorinde, and the honour which the Nymph did unto her: then returned at faſt as he could, and made report of it to the King, who upon this information diſpatched away Alerantes to the Nymph, upon the moſt impertinent Embaſſie that ever was ſent unto ſuch a Princeſs.

After this diſcourſe I preſented your Letters unto him Madam, and that from the Prince; and becauſe he ſaw none from Dorinde, I perceived him to be a little aſtoniſhed and ſad, which made me ſay unto him, I keep this to preſent unto you at more leaſure, aſſuring my ſelf that it does not import any buſineſs of ſtate: but he taking it, and giving it many a kiſs, This, this, ſaid he, is it which moſt imports my buſineſs, and opening it he found theſe words.

DORINDES Letter unto Prince SIGISMOND.

MAy I believe that this teſtimony which Dorinde gives of her remembering Prince Sigiſmond, will be welcome unto him▪ when I ſet before mine eyes my being abandoned to the mercy of the Wolves, and all manner of injurious Fortune, I believe not: If I give credit unto the Prince your brother, I believe yes; but when I conſider how all men have hitherto failed me, O how ſoon am I of another faith? What then wilt thou do Dorinde? leſt ſhe ſhould bely the opinion ſhe has of this Prince, I will believe that he is no deceiver, and that he does love me; and therefore I will love, honour, and ſerve him, that if he do deceive me, he may have left no excuſe either before the gods or before men. As a conſequent therefore of this reſolution, I do aſſure you Sir, that I will be no more Dorinde when I am not yours.

O Dorinde (ſaid he as ſoon as he had read this Letter) O my deareſt Dorinde, how much cauſe haſt thou to complain againſt me? and how much cauſe have I to complain againſt my Fortune? Cavalier (ſaid he unto me) were you ever in love? And ſeeing me ſmile without giving him any anſwer, if ever you were in love, continued he, I would not excuſe the raptures of my affection; but if hitherto you have been exempted from that paſſion, I beſeech you to wave your judgement of me, until you become a lover, and then I will give you leave to ſay [Page] what you will of me. I knew by this that no other buſineſs was to be talked of, till all was diſcourſed of concerning Dorinde; and therefore I anſwered him, I am not ſo ignorant of that paſſion Sir, but that I know it to be one of the greateſt, and one of the moſt juſt: moſt juſt, becauſe nothing can be more reaſonable then to love that which is lovely; and moſt great, becauſe Nature and Will does moſt violently prompt us unto it. And therefore, I was not only charged with a Letter from the fair Dorinde, but I have alſo a preſent which the Prince your brother hath ſent unto you, and which I aſſure my ſelf will not be altogether unwelcome to you.

Then going to the door, I fetched Dorindes picture, which I commanded one of my men to bring. When I opened it, he fixed his eyes ſo upon it, and was ſo raviſhed, that he ſeemed himſelf a ſtatue.

At laſt, returning to himſelf, and conſidering the pains I took in holding it ſo long, he made ſome excuſes unto me for it, yet ſtill could not chuſe but look upon it and admire: after a long contemplation he caſt his eyes upon the Shepherdeſs habit wherein ſhe was drawn, O (ſaid he) how this Shepherdeſs does ſwell all thoſe upon the banks of Lignon with envy? Moſt true, anſwered I, and therefore, Sir, ſhe ſtayed ſo little amongſt them, but came amongſt the Nymphs of Amaſis, where though in the plain habit of a Shepherdeſs, yet ſhe appears like unto a Diana amongſt her Nymphs. Upon this he commanded me to relate unto him the whole Fortune of Dorinde, and by what good Genius ſhe was adviſed to retire her ſelf unto Amaſis: which to ſatiſfie, I told him all that I had learned from her own mouth, from Merindor and Periander: I obſerved, that when I related unto him the frights wherein ſhe was when Duriana left her, he ſighed ſeveral times, as grieving that he was not with her; but when he heard what cruelty Clorantes would have ſhewed unto her, and in what a pitiful condition ſhe was, when Merindor, Periander, and Bellimartes reſcued her. O moſt cruel Father, ſaid he, couldſt thou have eyes, and ſee Dorinde thus wronged by the appointment? And when he heard of Bellimartes his death in that quarrel: Dear friend, ſaid he, thou art a greater gainer in thy death then in thy life, and aſſure thy ſelf we do all envy thee in the honour thou haſt got in beſtowing thy life ſo nobly: To be brief Madam, this Prince did ſo reſent every thing that concerned this fair Lady, that I verily believe never any was inſpired with a more noble love then he. Having every way ſatisfied his curioſity as well as I was able: he opened the reſt of the Letters, and they being only Letters of credence, I acquainted him with every thing according to your commands, and particularly with your joyes to ſee Dorinde in ſuch a place where you might ſerve her for his ſake, which you aſſured him you would do, and hold her as dear in your eſteem as Galathea her ſelf: afterwards I related unto him all that I had in commiſſion from the Prince his brother, and how deeply he reſented every thing that concerned him: to be brief, I omitted nothing which I had in command; unto which he anſwered with ſuch abundance of thanks, as I plainly ſaw how much he thought himſelf obliged unto you in the behalf of Dorinde. But when I acquainted him with the deſign of Polemas, and of King Gondebaut to make him Lord of that ſtate, and with the Letters which he had written and ſent by Clorantes, which imported the death of Clidemant, and invited Polemas to take up arms, offering unto him all favour and aſſiſtance: I do ſolemnly proteſt and ſwear (ſaid he) that laying aſide all reſpects of a ſon to a Father, I will never as long as I live, ſuffer ſuch an injury to be done unto the Princeſs: I have hitherto carried my ſelf with all humility and ſweetneſs; but if he do arm, I will unvail my ſelf, and declare in behalf of the Nymph, with all my friends and confederates: for beſides the particular intereſt which I have, the general title of a Cavaleir, does oblige me to this juſt defence. Upon this he acquainted me with the correſpondencies, which he held with the Dukes and Earls of high & low Burgundy, for ſo he called all thoſe Provinces which are on both ſides the Ararri he told me what great forces he could have from the Hudeois and Allobrogians, and aſſured me that he ſhould draw after him the better half of the Souldiery that were in his Fathers Kingdome, and that thoſe who did not follow him, would not take arms againſt him: Afterwards I acquainted him with the Letters which for [Page] an umbrage of my voyage were ſent from you unto the King; alſo I acquainted him, how I had it in charge from you to expreſs your joys at the coming of Prince Godomar into your Court where you would endeavour to do him all manner of ſervice, both for his own merit [...], and in reſpect of the King, ſeeming not to know of any miſ-underſtandings that were betwixt them; which at the firſt he laughed at, and told me the excuſe was good, but that Gondebaut would not take it ſo; and therefore I adviſe you to conceal the Letter (ſaid he) and only demand audience, which I am ſure he will not permit; but on the contrary, will commit you to cuſtody, to the end you may not have a ſight of me, and therefore have a little patience, and I will preſently give you an anſwer; which he preſently did, and charged me to tell you, that his obligations unto you were ſo great, that he would never reſt until he had acquitted himſelf, and in the mean time commanded me to aſſure you, that as ſoon as Polemas took the field, he would do the ſame with his friends, under a pretence of Aſſiſting the Prince his brother: That if the King came himſelf in perſon to aid Polemas, he would then openly take Arms alſo, and come in perſon, being reſolved either to die, or to defend you againſt all the puiſſance of the earth.

As for Dorinde (ſaid he) pray tell her, that I am much more hers then my own, and that ere long ſhe ſhall receive all deſireable aſſurances of it. Then Madam, being parted from the Prince, I retired to my Lodging the next morning ſo fortunately, that none ſaw me either in going or returning from him.

But the next morning, as ſoon as I let Gondebaut know that I was come unto him from you, he fell into ſuch a paſſion, that he commanded me upon pain of death to get out of Lions within an hour, and preſently ſet a Guard of Souldiers upon me, as Prince Sigiſmond foreſaw; I anſwered him, who brought this meſſage from him, that I claimed the priviledge of the Law of Nations, to be ſafe from all harm; and having done my chief buſineſs with Prince Sigiſmond, I took horſe, and made all the ſpeed I could to this Town, the news being all over the Province, that Polemas was coming to beſiege it with thirty thouſand men.

Upon this Leontidas held his peace, and preſented the Letters from Prince Sigiſmond unto the Nymph, unto Prince Godomar, and unto Dorinde: And becauſe the laſt of theſe did not deſire to have any witneſſes at the reading of her Letter, ſhe retired into Daphnides chamber.

In the mean time, upon the intelligence of Leontidas, it was thought neceſſary to ſend unto Lindamore, to let him know, that he was to take heed of King Gondebau [...] and aſſure himſelf in Prince Sigiſmond; that in his return he ſhould come by the Picts and the Boyens, and bring with him all thoſe Forces which the Queen Argira and the Prince Roſilion would give him: Then conſidering who was the fitteſt meſſenger for this voyage, Galathea remembring the diſcourſe which Leonide told her ſhe had with Fleurial, ſhe propoſed him as the fitteſt to be truſted, who could paſs away without ſuſpition, and who knew the way. Every one approving of him, he was preſently diſpatched; and having received his Inſtructions, departed the ſame night, being charged to have a moſt ſpecial care to hide his Letters, ſo that if he were taken by Polemas, yet that they ſhould not be found.

In the mean time, Dorinde got into a corner of Daphnides chamber, with a Wax candle in her hand, and abundance of joy in heart at the News which Leontidas told her; there ſhe broke open the Letter which Prince Sigiſmond had ſent unto her, and found theſe expreſſions.

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Prince SIGISMONDS Letter unto DORINDE.

I Muſt needs confeſs, my Faireſt, that Dorinde has ſuffered abundance of ſorrows, but I do deny that they have been greater or more ſenſible then mine own: I need no excuſe either towards Gods or men for failing in that affection, which I have promiſed unto you: For the Gods do know how pure it is, and without the leaſt ſtain: And men do ſee that it is the tyrannie of a Father, which to my ſorrow hindered me from keeping you company. Perhaps your doubts of me might make you accuſe my Love as imperfect: But Heaven will not let me harbour any ſuch thought: For I am confident the grandeur of my affection will oblige you to love me for ever.

Dorinde read over this Letter ſeveral times, and every time ſhe obſerved ſome new expreſſion of Prince Sigiſmonds affection, which ſwelled her with ſo much joy, that ſhe thought ſhe could never read it oft enough; and doubtleſs ſhe would have been longer, if ſhe had not been diverted by Galathea, who came to viſit Daphnide, and tell her what news Leontidas had brought concerning the Rebellion of Polemas, which now was openly ſpoken of.

But in the mean time, Adamas who had intelligence from all ſides of the great Forces of Polemas, and what haſte he made to fall upon the Nymph, he now underſtood by his Spies, that the Artillery, and all Engines of War were gone out of the Arſenal of Sarion, and that his Army began to march; whereof advertizing the Prince, Alcidon, and Damon, they all thought it expedient to ſend out a party of Horſe to diſcover, and to ſcour the ways, and in the mean time to appoint every one his ſtation where he was to fight: and becauſe they imagined the enemy intended a ſtorm, they prepared themſelves with every thing neceſſary to ſuſtain it. But Adamas who could not imagine that Polemas would ever think of carrying the place before he had made a breach, unleſs it was upon hopes of ſome intelligence, he therefore moved unto them to change the ſeveral quarter [...] [...]f the Souldiery in the Town▪ ſo as being often ſhifted, thoſe that ſend Polemas any Intelligence, cannot tell what Quarter will fall unto their lot; and perhaps, if we keep obſervant eyes, we may diſcover who they are and what Intelligence is given, as ſoon as he to whom it is ſent.

This counſel was approved of as good, and to prevent ſuch things not only at this time, but alſo during all the Siege, it was appointed that every night the Quarters ſhould be changed: And becauſe no queſtion was made of any but the Townſmen, they reſolved that the walls and the Ports ſhould be guarded only by ſtrangers, and that the Townſmen ſhould be kept together in a groſs Body, to relieve any place in caſes of neceſſity: An Order which at this time ſaved the Town: For Merontes who had the Guard of one the Ports committed unto him, had promiſed to ſet it open when Polemas ſhould begin his general ſtorm.

All the night then was ſpent in ſhifting the guards from one place to another; and about an hour before day, the party of Horſe which Alcidon ſent out to diſcover the enemy, began to hear the noiſe of the Army, and to ſee the lights which conducted the Artillery; for the night being extreamly dark, they were forced to light ſome Links, that the carriages might be directed which way to chuſe. Alcander who commanded the Horſe, though he was ſure of the Armies coming, yet would he not return, till he could carry the news upon more certainty; yet thinking it neceſſary to make it known unto Prince Godomar, he ordered his brother to return with ſeven or eight horſe, and give an account of what they [Page] had ſeen and heard: and continuing on his way with about fifty Archers, he hid himſelf and them amongſt ſome buſhes which grew cloſe by the high way, where he had no ſooner placed himſelf and his Sentinels, but day began to break, and he appointed ſeven or eight of his men to ſtand in the high way, and when they diſcovered the Army coming then to run away towards the Town, as if they were affrighted, purpoſely to make them follow them in diſorder: ſo it fortuned, that when it was light enough to ſee, the Army appeared diſcovering thoſe whom Alcander had ſet in the high way▪ did begin to follow them; and ſeeing none but theſe ſeven or eight men, they ſee ſpurs to horſe, and rid after them in great diſorder, out of an earneſt deſire which every one had to be the firſt which ſhould do any ſignal act. Above two hundred horſe paſſed by the place where Alcander was, in this confuſion; who coming out of his ambuſcado, did charge them ſo furiouſly, that their horſes being almoſt all out of breath, and the riders ſurprized, ſo that except three or four, who were very well mounted, and fled away, all of them were either killed or taken: But it concerned Alcander to make a ſpeedy retreat, for immediately three great bodies of horſe purſued him to the very gates, where Damon received him with abundance of welcome; but they had not leiſure to ſtand upon very many Complements: For the main Body of the Army appearing, every one betook himſelf to his defence. Alcidon would have gone out with his horſe, but the Prince at the ſupplication of Adamas, would not permit him; becauſe not being well aſſured within, by reaſon of much correſpondency which they feared▪ it was not ſafe to part from their horſe, which was their greateſt ſafety. Alcidon in obedience to orders, contented himſelf to ſtay in the Town, and diſpoſed of his men unto thoſe places that were aſſigned unto them to repulſe the Aſſault, which they foreſaw would be very great. Peliodontes was already come up to the Town with his horſe, and facing it till the Foot were alſo come up, he ſet on foot certain Archers to begin the Approches: but thoſe of the Town ſallying out by command from Damon, and under the conduct of Lucindor, did ſo repulſe them, that had it not been for their Horſe, they had fated as ill as their Forlorn Hope: At laſt the three Bodies of the Army being arrived, they of the Town prepared themſelves for defence.

Marcelles is ſo ſeituated, that towards Mount Verdune and Iſaures, there is both Plains and Mountains. The Caſtle (which ſtands at one end of the Town, is a moſt ſafe Ram part unto it from the Mountains, ſtanding ſo high, that it is almoſt inacceſſible: for beſides the Rock upon which it is ſeated, there is a torrent which paſſeth between the Mountain and the Caſtle, and ſerves for ſuch a Ditch as is impaſſible. The Avenues in all other places are very difficult; the Ditches deep, and the Wall [...] well [...]anked with Towers very correſdondent.

When Polemas came firſt, not needing any view of the place, he knowing it very well, all his Infantry were drawn round the Town in form of a Half Moon, and being within Bowe ſhot of the Walls; the Croſs bow men and Engineers began to play, and covered the Battlements of the Town with clouds of ſtones and arrows. In the mean time making paſſage for their Engines over the Ditch wherein was no water, they filled it up with abundance of Faggots and Hurdles in many places; then paſſing over theſe Hurdles, and bringing abundance of Ladders, they ran to the Walls on all ſides at one time: and which was moſt admirable, all things were done upon ſuch a ſudden, that they who were upon the defenſive part, were no ſooner upon the Battlements, but they found them full of hooks, which had Ladders fixed to them, and men of all ſides mounting them: the Cranes alſo were lifting up men in Baskets, who were ready to ſtep upon the walls; which did ſo aſtoniſh thoſe within, ſeeing themſelves aſſaulted on all ſides at once, that one could not run to help another, every one having enough to do in his own defence.

In the mean while Polemas went round about encouraging his men, and looking whether Merontes would open the Gate unto him, according to his promiſe. But they within taking heart, did moſt couragiouſly oppoſe this furious aſſault, ſome with halbards, and others with clubs, knocking down the enemy from the Walls. But ſuch was the reſolution of the Aſſailants, that ſome were no ſooner knocked down, but others were in their places. At laſt, thoſe within be-thought [Page] themſelves of great Sythes ſixed unto long Poles, with which they cut in pieces the cordage of their Ladders, Cranes, and other Engines: and theſe Engines being that which moſt troubled them, this invention was well thought upon.

But Polemas, who would needs ſhew unto Alerantes the valour of his Army, he cauſed his other great Engines to be brought called Tortoyſes, and with them they mounted a great bridge of hurdles, as high as the walls, on which fourty men might go abreſt: Then he cauſed three thouſand men with targets and ſwords, the ſtouteſt in all the Army, to mount this bridge, which they did, and came to handy blows with them on the walls.

Now was the Town in great danger to be forced, and had not Damon come to that place, it had been impoſſible they ſhould have made any long reſiſtance; but his coming was ſuch an encouragement to his men, and ſo great a terrour to his enemies, that it became a fierce diſpute: beſides, he cauſed a great quantity of boyling oyl and brimſtone to be brought, and threw it upon the enemy with ſo many artificial fireworks, that they were not able to endure them: Many were wounded, and many faining to be ſo, began to retreat; which Prince Godomar perceiving, he opened a Sally Port, and ſent out two hundred men under the conduct of Ligdamon, who ſetting artificial fires to their bridge of Hurdles which bore up the Tortoyſes, and which kindled upon ſuch a ſudden, that moſt of thoſe that were upon them were deſtroyed: In this diſorder the two hundred which ſallied out made a moſt miſerable ſlaughter, for fear entring into the hearts of Pomas his men; they made no defence, but leaving all their Engines and their Arms, they fled away: In ſo much as thoſe of the Town had time enough to burn all their Engines, Ladders, Hurdles and Faggots.

Polemas who ſaw his men thus killed and burned, and then not able to relieve them, for the bridge was all on fire, he began to curſe both againſt heaven and Fortune, for failing him in his firſt attempt: and he was ſo extreamly vexed at this repulſe in the preſence of Alerantes, that had it not been very late, doubtleſs he would have made a ſecond attempt; but his councel adviſed him to defer it until next morning, when the fire would be extinguiſhed; telling him that his Souldiers were weary, that it was late, and neceſſary to lodge them in ſuch a place of ſecurity, that thoſe within the Town could not hurt them in the night. The Army therefore making a retreat ſome two or three miles diſtant, they encamped themſelves that night under a hill, whoſe ſcituation was ſo advantageous, as they thought themſelves in ſafety, and ſo contented themſelves with that natural fortification for that night.

In the mean time thoſe that were ſent to the banks of Lignon to ſeiz upon Alexis were conducted by their guide into a little grove cloſe by the houſe of Aſtrea; where hiding themſelves, they ſtayed till it was day. O what what a ſtrange alteration did thoſe trees now find? Formerly they were wont to be the harbour and ſhade of harmleſs of lovers, but now become a receptacle of ravenous Rebels and inhumane raviſhers.

As Fortune was, Celadon waked that morning betimes, and as it was his cuſtome very often, he put on Astreas clothes: Then, after he had looked a while upon her as ſhe lay in bed, with Diana and Phillis, and ſeeing her to ſleep very ſoundly, he had no mind to wake her, but went to walk in the haſel wood, which was cloſe by the houſe, and there entertain himſelf with his own thoughts. Thoſe who lay hid in the next Grove, ſaw him come forth; but thinking him to be Astrea, by reaſon of her garments, they ſtirred not, but kept as cloſe as they could, aſſuring themſelves that Alexis would not be long after, in which they were not miſtaken: for Aſtrea waking preſently after, and finding the windows open, and Alexis neither in bed nor in the chamber; my companions (ſaid ſhe and waked them) we are very ſluggards, Alexis is up and gone to walk without us; upon this, putting her arms out of bed, ſhe took the Druides clothes, and her extream deſire to be with her, made her uſe all the haſt that poſſibly ſhe could and went out of the chamber ſooner then her companions, and before they were half dreſt, aſſuring her ſelf to find Alexis in the grove of Hazels; for there it [Page] was ſhe moſt delighted to walk: She had no ſooner ſet her foot out of the houſe, but thoſe that waited for her, diſcovered her; and leſt they ſhould fright her back again to the houſe; they lay ſtill untill ſhe was a good diſtance thence, then compaſſed her about, ſeized upon her, and do what ſhe could, ſet her before a horſman, who held her before him in his arms whilſt ſhe wept, and cryed out for help.

Great was the wonder of this woman to ſee her ſelf hurried away in this manner, but much greater grief and wonder was it to Celadon, who running to the place where the Shepherds uſed to meet, in hopes of help to reſcue, could do nothing but cry out for help; but knew not what to do: he enquired which way theſe Raviſhers went, and ran after them, ſtill not knowing what to do but to die near Aſtrea. He followed the track of their horſes, more like a mad woman then a Shepherdeſs of Lignon; crying, or rather howling, after theſe Raviſhers: calling out for help from the gods, from men, from animals, from trees, from rocks, from the river Lignon, from all things he either ſaw or could think upon, but all in vain; for theſe Souldiers having got what they came for, they rid away as faſt as they could; and thinking to find Polemas at Surieu, they took that way, but when they came near, and heard he was gone to Marcelles, but they went thither, and by Fortune, came when Polemas having lodged his Army, was harking unto Ligonias and Peledontes, who were telling him what loſs they had received at this aſſault: the number of the dead amounting to above two thouſand, and the wounded as many more at the leaſt: And when he was in the height of his anger, theſe Souldiers preſented Aſtrea unto him, under the notion and habit of Alexis: when he firſt heard of it, he rejoyced exceedingly, and commanding her to be brought into his preſence, his anger had ſo tranſported him, that it was a hundred to one, but he would have done ſome violence unto her; yet ſhe keeping her ſelf at an humble diſtance, and ſad behaviour, he was aſhamed to offer any violence to a woman, eſpecially in the preſence of Alerantes, and ſome other Cavaliers that were in his Tent. But having looked a while upon her: Come hither (ſaid he unto her) thou child of the moſt wicked father that ever lived; what do you think I cauſed you to be brought hither for? I cannot tell Sir, (anſwered ſhe, and looked ſweetly upon him) But O the unreſiſtable power of beauty? This Polemas, who flamed with fury, and breathed nothing but death and blood againſt this woman: he was no ſooner touched with the Luſter of her eye, but as ſnow melts before the Sun, ſo his fury and his rage did vaniſh at her beauty; yet making ſome reſiſtance againſt the firſt glance: O moſt miſerable daughter of a Father, far unworthy of ſuch a child. To morrow (ſaid he) thy body ſhall be a covering to my whole Army; for I will have thee faſtned to the points of ſeveral Pikes, and oppoſed againſt the blows of thoſe wicked Rebels in the Town: and in this condition ſhalt thou go with a torch in thy hand, and ſet fire to the gates of that Town. Sir (anſwered Aſtrea) if ever I did you any wrong let the gods forſake me: and if I be innocent, let them defend me: as ſhe uttered theſe words, tears flowed from her eyes, which moved compaſſion not only in Polemas, but all that ſaw her. Yet ſeigning the contrary, if theſe tears (ſaid he) could mollifie the heart of Adamas, and make him open the gates of the Town, they might do you ſome good; but otherwiſe aſſure your ſelf, they will do no good at all.

Aſtrea now ſaw, that they took her for Alexis; and though ſhe looked for a moſt certain death, yet would ſhe die rather then diſcover her ſelf; hoping by this means to ſave the life of Alexis, who otherwiſe would doubtleſs be taken, and brought into her room. Her deſire therefore to die for her, moved her to ſay thus: I with Sir, my father had no occaſion to wiſh you ill, but to think that the conſideration of my life or death will move him to do any thing againſt his duty, is infinitly to deceive your ſelf. for what will it advantage him whether I live or die; you know Sir, that we who are as it were caſt out into the world, are commonly but hindrances to our parents. We ſhall ſee (ſaid Polemas) how he will take it; for let him aſſure himſelf henceforward, that he has nere a daughter: The loſs wherewith you menace him, replied Astrea, will not much trouble [Page] him nor me. Upon this Polemas commanded he ſhe ſhould be ſafely guarded until Silvia came, and afterwards to be bound together, becauſe the next morning they ſhould run both the ſame fortune. This command was no ſooner given, but they brought a Shepherdeſs who deſired to ſpeak with her. As ſoon as Aſtrea ſaw her, ſhe knew her to be Alexis in her clothes; Oh how it grieved her to the ſoul [...] for knowing that all the ill they intended unto her, was only becauſe they thought her to be the daughter of Adamas, ſhe feared that if Alexis was known, all the harm would fall upon her; and to give her a hint of it, Oh fair Shepherdeſs (ſaid ſhe unto her) what fate brought you hither, where they ſeek only for me, as being the daughter of Adamas? It is fate indeed (anſwered Alexis) that brought me hither, and the beſt that ever was, Aſtrea, ſince it brought me hither to undeceive thoſe that took you for me. Ah Aſtrea (cryed out Astrea) Why ſhould you offer to Sacrifice your ſelf innocently for another.

Alexis giving her no anſwer, but turning towards Polemas, who heard them, yet knew not their meanings, Sir (ſaid ſhe unto him,) you ſee how I am all wet and dirty, but it is by reaſon of the haſte I made, to prevent your errour? What errour (ſaid Polemas) do you mean? Your errour (replyed ſhe) in taking this Shepherdeſs for me, who am the Daughter of Adamas. How? (ſaid Polemas) are you the daughter of that wicked man? Sir (anſwered ſhe) if you call Adamas wicked, I am the daughter of him you call ſo. Sir (anſwered Aſtrea) believe her not, ſome diſtemper in her Brain makes her ſpeaks thus, ſhe is Aſtrea the daughter of Alces and Hyppolita, and I am the daughter of the great Druide Adamas, as indeed you may ſee by my habit: And becauſe thoſe who were tying the hands of Aſtrea did ſtay upon this diſpute, ſhe held her hands unto them; Nay, nay, ſaid ſhe, tye only mine, for I aſſure you I am the Druide Alexis. But Alexis on the contrary oppoſed her, Sir (ſaid ſhe, thruſting away the hands of Astrea, and holding her own) let not her clothes deceive you, for we changed them this morning, as we many times were accuſtomed to do: Conſider that ſhe is too young to have been ſo long at Carnates, as I have been: If you pleaſe to ask her any particular queſtions concerning the Druides daughters, and of their Statutes, I dare ſay her anſwers will let you ſee ſhe attributes to her ſelf more then is her due.

Polemas and all the company were even raviſhed with admiration at this conteſt, which of them ſhould be the party expoſed to death. After he had a while looked upon them both, and conſidered how vehemently they maintained their cauſe; Alas poor ſilly wenches (ſaid he unto them) Why ſhould you thus diſpute about the matter? Do you think any great recompence will be given unto her that is the daughter of Adamas? No, no, you are much miſtaken, for all ſhe muſt expect, is a moſt certain death: and to morrow ſhe ſhall be tyed to the points of our Pikes, with a Link in her hand, and ſhall ſet fire upon the Gate of the Town, where ſhe can look for no leſs then death, either from their hands, or from ours, unleſs paternal affection move the heart of her wicked father to open the Gates, and let us enter. Sir (ſaid Alexis) I knew as much before, and my compaſſion upon this innocent Shepherdeſs, moved me to make all the haſte I could, left ſhe ſhould ſuffer thoſe pains that are due unto me. And why (ſaid Polemas) do you think them due unto you? Becauſe they ſay (anſwered ſhe) that the child is to bear the iniquity of the Father; and ſince ſo, It is not reaſonable that I who am Alexis ſhould not ſuffer for Adamas who is my Father, but Aſtrea who is only an innocent Shepherdeſs? Sir (ſaid Aſtrea and interrupted) theſe arguments which Aſtrea urges, moves me to tell you again, that ſhe is out of her wits, and that I am the ſame whom my habit ſpeaks me; and I would not have that harmleſs Shepherdeſs expoſe her ſelf to death for me; It is I that ought to pay for my Father, and not you Aſtrea, whom it nothing concerns.

Alexis then interrupting; Ah faireſt Shepherdeſs (ſaid ſhe unto her) What a moſt ſtrange errour are you poſſeſſed withal? Why ſhould you without any reaſon ſoon deſire to end your days! Preſerve your ſelf for the happineſs of him that muſt enjoy you, he ſtill the glory of Forreſts, and an honour unto the Banks of Lignon. Let me pay what I owe unto Nature, as the daughter of Adamas, and do not deprive me of that honour I ſhall have by ſuch a death. Sir (continued ſhe [Page] and turned to Polemas, you may be ſure that only one of us can be the daughter of Adamas; and I ſwear unto you, by all that is ſacred, that this Shepherdeſſe whom you ſee before you, is not Alexis the daughter of Adamas, but is Aſtrea: Send her back therefore without any harm, and expoſe me to as many deaths as you ſhall pleaſe. Can you imagine that I who expect nothing but a death to morrow, ſhould perjure my ſelf to day? Aſtrea, who ſaw that Polemas was inclinable to the perſwaſions of Alexis; O Sir, ſaid ſhe, I wonder you ſhould be led into ſuch an errour by the perſwaſions of this woman. You muſt know, that ever ſince ſhe loſt her father and her mother, and ſince ſhe her ſelf fell into the river Lignon, her judgement and intellectuals have been much diſtempered: ſo, as ſometimes ſhe will fancy her ſelf to be a Druide, as now ſhe does, ſometimes a Shepherd, nay ſometimes a Cavalier, and rage againſt all ſuch as will not believe her: Pity her good Sir, I beſeech you, and ſend her home to her uncle Phocion, who doubtleſſe is looking for her, and in fears, leſt ſhe ſhould throw her ſelf into ſome Pool, or the river Lignon, as before ſhe did.

This diſpute had laſted longer, if Polemas, fearing leſt this difference ſhould turn to confuſion, had not interrupted them.

Well, well (ſaid he unto them) it is enough: I will agree you; then addreſſing himſelf unto Alexis. Are you Alexis (ſaid he unto her) the daughter of Adamas, the moſt pernicious villain upon earth? Every one, anſwered ſhe, takes me to be the daughter of Adamas the Grand Druide; and under the notion of that Adamas, I do acknowledge my ſelf to be his daughter. Then turning to Aſtrea, and you, ſaid ſhe, are you the daughter of this Adamas? Certainly I am, anſwered ſhe, look upon the clothes which I were. Since, ſaid he, you are both the daughters of that villain, you ſhall both be treated accordingly. Upon this he commanded them to be both tied together, and guarded ſafely till the morning, ſtill keeping an eye upon Aſtrea as he went out of the room, and ſaying, It was a thouſand pities ſo fair a woman ſhould have ſuch a devil to her father: but ambition, which is a monſter that will admit of no companion, as ſoon as ſhe was out of his ſight, made him quite forget all her merits.

Polemas his intention was to expoſe Silvia to the blows of the Town, and Alexis alſo, as well to try whether the Nymph and Adamas would yield it to ſave them alive, as to ſhew the world how deeply he reſented the death of his friends, in the perſon of Climanthes; of which Silvia and Leonide were principally accuſed. This was the reaſon, that when he departed from Surieu to ſtorm Marcelles, he left her under ſafe cuſtody in the Caſtle: Silvia being of a timorous nature, did nothing but dream all night of mortal accidents, and thought her ſelf to be in the midſt of Pikes and Arrows. Which ſo affrighted her, that ſhe ſtarted out of bed all tears and fears. As ſoon as it was day, and finding no reſt in her bed, ſhe got up ſooner then her cuſtome: and ſometimes walking up and down the chamber, and ſometimes looking out of the window, ſhe paſſed away ſome hours with as much inquietude as ſhe did in the night time.

The ſequel of the Hiſtory of LIDIAS.

BEing thus leaning and looking out of the window towards the high way, ſhe thought that ſhe ſaw Ligdamon very careleſly coming that way: When he was ſomething near, ſhe coughed purpoſely to make him look up; but he looking upon her, he turned another way very indifferently. She thought that he did ſo fear of being known, but ſeeing him come and go ſeveral times, and at every time ſhe making the ſame ſigns unto him, ſhe wondred extreamly he ſhould never take any notice of her; eſpecially, being in place where, if he would, he might have ſpoke unto her, or at the leaſt have made ſome ſigns. But that which almoſt made her mad, was, when ſhe ſaw another ſtranger coming; and running unto him, embraced him with many expreſſions of joy: ſhe thought that then Ligdamon looked up to the window to ſee whether ſhe was there: which ſhe perceiving, ſhe retired a little, and looked one [Page] of a corner, to ſee what they did: Then ſhe ſaw the firſt carraſſes were nothing to the ſecond; and this woman uſed all poſſible geſtures to expreſſe her joyes in meeting with him whom ſhe took for Ligdamon.

This ſight ſtung Silvia to the ſoul, and made her fling away from the window in ſpite, and go into the furtheſt part of the room: where ſtanding long ſtill and ſpeaking not a word, at laſt ſhe cryed out: O who would ever be ſo mad as to build upon the fidelity of men, or truſt their diſſembling oathes? Is any man alive honeſt, ſince Ligdamon is not? Ligdamon, who as Egides told me, would have poiſoned himſelf rather then be any others but mine? Ligdamon, who ſlighted all the favours of Amerina? Ligdamon, who within theſe three dayes was ready to die for the love of me, and who vowed himſelf mine for ever! O what a moſt ſad fate it is to be a woman! If ſhe love, ſhe is ſure to be deceived: if ſhe love not, ſhe is even tired with the importunities of men: ſhe cannot exempt her ſelf, unleſſe ſhe give her ſelf to be devoured by thoſe fierce and falſe Animals.

The very truth was, the affection of Ligdamon, had made a deep impreſſion upon the haughty ſoul of Silvia; and now ſeeing her ſelf miſtaken in her opinion, her proud ſpirit could not endure it, without a bitter reſentment: But yet ſhe was much miſtaken; for he whom ſhe took to be Ligdamon was Lidias: who following Melander, and Melander the falſe Lidius, were come into Forreſts: and ſhe who expreſſed ſo many joyes and carreſſes, was Amerina; who thinking him to be the ſame ſhe came withal from Rothomagues, was ſurprized with abundance of joy to meet him in that place. Had Silvia looked out at the window, perhaps ſhe might have heard ſome words which would have undeceived her: for preſently after the firſt ſalutations and expreſſions of joy, ſhe began to upbraid him, Well, well (ſaid ſhe unto him) is this your ſ [...]ay for me as you promiſed? Ah Lidias, who will needs be Ligdamon, if my happy fortune had not brought me hither, where could I have hoped ever to have met with you? In ſaying ſo ſhe renewed her carreſſes, which Lidias received as from a perſon that he did but half love; being now ſo obliged unto Melander, that his affection was more unto her then the other: and if he did now return carreſſes, it was only out of memory of former paſſages, then any preſent affection: But when he heard her call him Lidias, that would needs be Ligdamon, and tax him with promiſes of ſtaying for her, he was the moſt aſtoniſhed man in the world? and becauſe he knew not what to anſwer, I ſee, friend (ſaid ſhe unto him) that you thought to be thus rid of me, and that I ſhould never find you out in a ſtrange Countrey: but love is a good guide, and will alwayes direct the heart of a lover towards the party loved.

I muſt confeſſe (anſwered Lidias) that I am not only mute, but amazed, and know not a word of any thing you ſay: for fair Amerina (ſaid he) what's this you tell me of Lidias, that would Ligdamon, and of a place where I promiſed to ſtay for you?

How? (replied ſhe and look'd him in the face) have you ſo ſoon forgot our coming out of Rothomagues, our journey to Neomagues, the cauſe of your departur without me, your leaving me in priſon, my clothes which you wore, and the place where you promiſed to ſtay for me? O heavens (cryed out Lidias) do I ſleep, or do I wake? What's all this that Amerina tells me? It is above thirty months ſince I went from Rothomagues, by reaſon of a duel which I fought for your ſake againſt Oronthes, and I aſſure you, that ſince I never ſtirred out o [...] great Brittain, but when I came to aſſiſt Neuſtrians againſt the Franks; and landing at Callice, Lipandas the kinſman of Oronthes took me priſoner, from whence I had never been releaſed, but for the aſſiſtance of one whom I followed into this countrey: but as for you Amerina, believe, I never ſo much as heard of you, until I now unexpectedly met you.

How? ſaid Amerina, were not you taken priſoner by the Neuſtrians in a battel againſt the Franks? were not you condemned to be devoured of Lyons? Did not you kill two of them very courageouſly? were not you him whom I reſcued from that danger, by asking you for my husband▪ was it not you, who thinking [Page] to drink poyſon upon the marriage day, did only drink a dormitive? To be brief, was it not you whom I followed hither, and for whoſe ſake I have run ſo many hazards and dangers? Aſſure your ſelf, anſwered Lidias, that I am not, nor do I know any more of any thing which you have named, then a child newly born. Amerina, folding arms, and going back a pace or two, did ſeriouſly look upon him, are not you that Lidias, ſaid ſhe, who would not own that name, but would needs be Ligdamon? I do not know who that Ligdamon is (anſwered he) but I am ſure that I am Lidias: O heavens! anſwered ſhe, am I Amerina? or am I out of my wits? Then being ſilent a while, and thinking that Lidias ſpake very freely, ſhe began to doubt of him whom ſhe took for Lidias, and who had ſo much tormented her by his reſemblance; then ſhe asked him ſeveral times, whether he was that Lidias who fought with Arontes, and he anſwering that he was. O good gods (cryed ſhe) is it poſſible that two men ſhould ſo extreamly reſemble, as one could not know the one from the other; and that it is not two or three perſons that are deceived, but all: I know not (ſaid Lidias) of whom you ſpeak, but I am ſure that I am Lidias, who has not ſeen you this thirty months before: and to teſtifie, that it was I who fought with Arontes (ſee, ſaid he, and took off his hat) the mark of the wound which I received when I killed him. For you may remember, that flying unto your houſe, you ſtopped the blood with your handkerchief, I having not time to ſtay the dreſſing, for fear I ſhould be taken: O heavens (ſaid ſhe) I do remember very well: where was my eyes and my memory, that I ſhould not take notice of this mark before? Now am I to my great contentment convinced of my errour; and then embracing Lidias again, ſhe related unto him all that had paſſed betwixt her and Ligdamon: at which Lidias admired, and could not conceive it poſſible that two perſons ſhould be ſo alike, as not to find ſome difference either in face, voice, or geſture.

No, No, Lidias (replied ſhe) aſſure your ſelf your mother, your kindred, and all your friends were deceived in him, although he ſtill affirmed that he was not Lidias, but one Ligdamon of that countrey; and when I chid him for his change towards me (for I thought that all he ſaid proceeded only from the alteration in his affection) he anſwered that he was not Lidias, but one Ligdamon, who never loved any but one Silvia, nor ſhould he ever love any other: I was ſo deceived by his reſemblance, that to be ſatiſfied I reſolved to come into this countrey, where he promiſed to verifie all he had ſaid: but when were near Neomages, a certain paſſenger and he fell out, and he whom I took for you, left him dead upon the place, for which we were both then priſoners, and had not I helped him to eſcape by lending him my clothes, I know not what might have happened unto him: for I taking his, I ſaid that I was his husband and he my wife: The next day I was carried before the Governour and other officers of juſtice: I did not deny the fact whereof I was accuſed. They carried me to the Chamber where this wounded man lay in bed; when he ſaw me, theſe clothes (ſaid he) are his who wounded me, but to him who wears them I have nothing to ſay.

The Governer upon this looking better upon me, he knew by my hair & by my breſts that I was a woman: whereat, wondring, what is the reaſon (ſaid he) you are diſguiſed in a habit not pooper to your ſex? Sir (ſaid I) though I know my husband to be innocent, yet fearing the ſeverity of juſtice, I conſtrained him to change habits with me, and ſo he eſcaped: I ſay I conſtrained him, becauſe he would rather have died then left me in that condition; but at laſt my prayers, my ſighs, and my tears, forced him away. As fortune was, this Governour had a wife who was both fair and young, and paſſionately loved her husband, as ſoon as ſhe heard of my trick to ſave my husband, ſhe came where we were to ſee me; and came time enough to plead and defend my cauſe: for the Governour ſent for the Gaoler; asked him what was become of the man who was committed to his charge, and when he anſwered that it was I, no, ſaid the Governour, this is his wife. Sir, ſaid he, if it be, then they were both women, for I aſſure you the other was as fair and as young as this; and this whom I here preſent unto you, was delivered unto me in the ſame habits you ſee: Sir, anſwered I, the man ſpeaks truth; for before we were committed unto his cuſtody we had changed habits, [Page] and therefore the fault is not in him. Well (ſaid the Governour) do you think you ſhall not be puniſhed in the habit which you wear? If my husband have done any injury, anſwered I, I will willingly receive the puniſhment for him; but, replied he, do you not know what puniſhment they incur, who thus delude juſtice. Be the puniſhment what it will, replied I, I am ſtill the ſame, and ready to receive it, ſo my husband may go free. The Governours wife coming in upon this, and hearing me ſpeak thus: Sir, (ſaid ſhe to her husband) the action of this woman is worthy of all honour and recompence; and all thoſe that have husbands ought to take example by her, to honour her and aſſiſt her, and I our of my affection unto you, become a Petitioner in her behalf.

The Governour upon this ſmiled; my deareſt (ſaid he unto her) you need not petition where you may command, and you may command not only this, but my life: hereupon he commanded I ſhould be releaſed into her hands, and ſhe carried me to her houſe, where ſhe gave me this habit which now I wear, ſhe carreſſed me beyond all expreſſions, and do what I could, would not ſuffer me to depart of four or five dayes; and I believe if I had not told her that my husband ſtayed for me at an appointed place, and perhaps would return to ſeek me, ſhe would not have ſuffered me to departed ſo ſoon, ſo pleaſing was my action unto her. But the beſt was, that when I was out of the Town, and would go unto the place where this man ſaid he would ſtay for me, I had forgotten the name of the Town; yet knowing that it was in Forreſts, I took towards that countrey, where ever ſince I have wandred from one Town to another, not knowing whether to go, nor what place to enquire after. Lidias hearkened very attentively unto Amerina, and when ſhe had done, fair, and dear Amerina (ſaid he unto her) I muſt needs acknowledge my ſelf infinitely obliged unto you, for I ſee that all you did unto Ligdamon was intended unto me, and it is my part to do you ſuch ſervivices as ſuch favours merit; but as you have acquainted me with your adventures, ſo it is but reaſonable I acquaint you with mine: wherein, if any thing diſpleaſe you, or ſeem in ſome ſort to croſſe that affection which I promiſed unto you, yet I believe when you have ſeriouſly conſidered upon it, you will find, that to ſatisfie obligations received, I was conſtrained unto it.

Upon this, he related all that he had done in great Brittain: the courteſies of Melanders kindred, the ſhew that he made of loving her, the manner of his leaving her without telling her, his impriſonment at Callice, the reſolution of Melander to fight for him againſt Lipandas, how ſhe was taken priſoner by the troops of Prince Clidemont, the favour that Prince ſhewed in ſetting her at liberty: briefly, he acquainted her with his enterprize upon Callice, and the taking of that place.

But (continued he) we were no ſooner maſters of the place, but I ran to the Caſtle, and as he that was wonderous well acquainted with the priſons, I went thither with an earneſt deſire of ſeeing Melander, and reſtoring her that liberty which ſhe loſt for my ſake: but fortune which ſeemed to croſs me in all my contentments, denied me this amongſt the reſt: for I found the priſon doors broken open, and nothing within but fetters and ſhakkles: I ſought every corner of the Caſtle in hopes of finding her, afterwards went into the Town, and enquired of her in every houſe: at laſt in the evening (for I ſpent all the night and all the next day till ſunſet in ſeeking her) I underſtood by ſome who came from Rothomagues, that ſhe was gone thitherward; and though I thought the friends of Arontes might procure me ſome miſchief, if they knew me, yet ſo much did I think my ſelf obliged unto that woman, as I reſolved to go thither; but when I was near Rothomagues, by chance, I met with a horſman who diverted my deſigne.

This man came from the Town, and rid upon a tired horſe: it being my cuſtome to ask what news of all I met, ſo I did of him: Sir, ſaid I, can you tell me any tidings of a young man, ſtranger, habited after the mode of great Brittain, who went towards Rothomagues, and happily you might meet him? Sir, anſwered he, if I be not miſtaken, he whom you are in queſt of, is called the ſad Cavalier; the very ſame (replied I very joyful): None Sir, anſwered he, can give [Page] you a better accompt of him then my ſelf, for I have accompanied him from the priſon of Callice, as far as the next Town: we were both fellow priſoners together, and when the Franks took the Town, and the priſons all ſet open, this Cavalier, with whom I had intimate friendſhip, deſired me to ſhow him the way unto Rothomagues; for, ſaid he, I have very earneſt buſineſſe there, and ſuch as does much import my contentment. I anſwered, that I would not only ſhew him the way, but accompany him to the very gates, yet would not enter in, by reaſon of ſome great enemies I had there: ſo we mounted upon the firſt horſes we met, for all was lawful prize, and in the confuſion, ſlipt out of the Town unſeen. Then by the way I undertſtood, that the reaſon why he made ſuch haſte, was, to forbid the banes of a marriage betwixt one Lidias and a Lady, which was of great importance unto him; but he no ſooner left me, then I ſaw him return out of the Town again in all haſte, and asking the reaſon of it; do not ſtay me (ſaid he) for I underſtand that this Lidias whom I look for, is gone with her whom he intends to marry, and its thought unto a houſe not far from hence, belonging to that woman: upon this, he ſet ſpurs to his horſe, not ſaying a word more unto me. Which way (ſaid I unto him) did he take? I cannot tell, anſwered he, but I believe, towards Paris.

Thus we parted, and ever ſince I have been following, hearing news of him almoſt every day, until I came to the Town which you named unto me, where a ſtrange accident happened unto me: I came thither about the time that you were there, and as I alighted to reſt my ſelf (for indeed I had rid a long journey that day) a company of ſouldiers ſeized upon me, and carried me to priſon, accuſing me for wounding a certain paſſenger; and by what you have told me, I believe it was him whom that Ligdamon with whom you were, had wounded: heavens do know that I was altogether innocent of the fact, yet was I very ſharply uſed; I lay that night with my hands and my feet fettered with iron, and the next day towards night, they carried me to the Governour of the place, who after examination, thinking me to be innocent, would have releaſed me, when an officer of Juſtice deſired that before my enlargement, I might be brought before the wounded party who had accuſed me: thither was I immediately carried, and I took notice, that as ſoon as ever he ſaw me, he fetched a deep ſigh, and turned himſelf the other way in his bed: Every one thought, (and I amongſt the reſt) that this ſigh proceeded from the pain of his wound; yet now I think that he took me for Ligdamon who wounded him, and that he would not accuſe me, but that perhaps being generous, he would, like a brave Cavalier, call me to anſwer him in the way of arms and not of Law: but ſo it was, that when they asked him whether it was I who wounded him, he anſwered no; and when they told him that yet it was I whom he had accuſed, he replied, I cry both you and him mercy, for it is not he. Upon this juſtification the Governour releaſed me; but my horſe, and the beſt things I had then about me, were then in the hands of the Gaoler and thoſe that took me: I do believe, that if I had made complaint, perhaps I ſhould have got them again; but I thought it better to go away quietly, having heard that ſuch kind of ſuits do often coſt more then they are worth: beſides, deſiring moſt paſſionately to overtake her whom I followed, I directed my courſe towards Forreſts, becauſe I underſtood that ſhe enquired the way into that Countrey.

Whilſt Lidias and Amerina were talking thus together, Silvia was at every turn peeping out at the window, and as cloſely as ever ſhe could, ſpying and obſerving their action: for not being able to hear what they ſaid, only ſome words when they ſpoke loud, ſhe took notice only of their geſtures, and the carreſſes which they uſed the one to the other, which ſtung her ſo to the heart, that ſhe was divers times ready to cry out and exclaim againſt thoſe injuries. But as ſhe was in theſe thoughts, thoſe whom Polemas ſent, came unto her with intentions to carry her away as privately as they could, telling her that it was to carry her back unto Galathea, ſhe was put then into a coach, and when ſhe came to the place were Lidias was talking with Amerina, he did not ſo much as move when he looked upon her paſſing by; which troubled her ſo much, that ſhe thought [Page] upon nothing elſe all the way, fretting againſt the inconſtancy of all men for Ligdamons ſake. She had not gone a mile further, but ſhe ſaw a great number of Soulders galloping by her, and carrying Lidias bound, taking him, as ſhe did, for Ligdamon: for Polemas was informed that Ligdamon made it his boaſt, that he would come and kill him in the midſt of his Army, if he did not releaſe Silvia. Polemas, who knew what affection Ligdamon did bear unto that Nymph, he did eaſily believe it, and gave a charge unto all thoſe who knew Ligdamon, to ſeiz upon him as ſoon as they ſaw him▪ and theſe Souldiers being deceived by the reſemblance which Lidias had vnto Ligdamon, finding him by chance coming towards Polemas, they ſeized upon him, thinking it a piece of good ſervice to their maſter. Amerina cryed out, that it was not Ligdamon, for ſhe believed that they miſtook him; but her cryes did no good: for thoſe who took him, knew him to be Ligdamon, and went away very joyfully to preſent him unto Polemas. Silvia, ſeeing him paſſe by, was nettled with two different paſſions at once: for ſhe was glad to ſee her ſelf revenged, and ſorry to ſee him in any danger: ſo as when ſhe cryed out aloud, Go diſſembler, and give an accompt of all thy falſhoods, her heart within ſilently ſaid, it was pity ſuch a Cavalier ſhould be ſo loſt: as her anger made her look upon him with an eye of diſdain and revenge, yet, ſo as her affection ſtole from her heart ſome ſighs of compaſſion.

But on the other ſide, thoſe that were within the Town, though ſome of them were wounded, yet did they extreamly rejoyce of the victory which they had gotten over their enemies: and all the Druides, Vaces, Eubages, and Sarronides in the Town, were commanded to render thanks unto the great Tautates: The hight Prieſt, the Flamins, and others, were enjoyned to go into their Temples, and thank their gods for this ſignal victory.

In the mean time, the Prince, Alcidon, and Damon, went to viſit the walls and the Ports, and to repair ſuch places as ſtood in any need: Adamas above all the reſt took infinite pains; making it appear, that affection adds ſupernatural ſtrength: for he never reſted, until all the dead were interred, all the wounded put into the hands of Chirurgeons, and till he had viſited every Quarter of the Town, and taken all neceſſary order for every thing.

Ligdamon in the mean time, who had not forgotten an unexpected relief which he had received from an unknown perſon, had no ſooner given the Prince an accompt of his Commiſſion, but retiring to his lodging, he made inquiry for him, unto whom he was ſo much obliged; and hearing that he was well, and that the wound he had received in his ſhoulder was ſo ſlight, that the skin was no more then ſcratch'd, he was extreamly glad to hear it; and the firſt thing he did, would go and ſee him: he found him in a chair with his arm in a ſcarf, according to the directions of the Chirurgeons. As ſoon as this young man ſaw Ligdamon enter, he roſe up to ſalute him, which he did with a countenance that expreſſed a long acquaintance: Ligdamon received his embraces with all the civility he could, as well becauſe he thought himſelf obliged thereunto by the rules of civility, as becauſe of his particular obligation which he had received from him: Yet the ſtranger, who perceived he carried himſelf as to a perſon unknown, he had an opinion, that becauſe it was ſomething dark he did not know him, or perhaps for ſome conſideration or other, would not ſeem to know him. After the firſt ſalutes, and Ligdamon had enquired of his health, alſo thanked him for the favour which he had done him, and the hazard wherein he put himſelf: I beſeech you Sir, (ſaid the ſtranger) diſmiſſe thoſe who accompany you, and then I ſhall give an anſwer unto all you ſay: Ligdamon then turned to the company, deſiring them to withdraw, and then the ſtranger began thus.

The ſequel of the Hiſtory of MELANDER.

[Page]

YOu do a [...]k me, unthankful and perſidious Lidias, how I do; and does give me thanks for that which I have this day done for you; as if you did not know, that I cannot be well unleſſe you be ſo; and that the hazard which I have this day run for you, is one of the leaſt whereunto I have expoſed my life to preſerve yours.

Forgetful and thankleſs man; Canſt thou not remember the carreſſes and kindneſſes, which when you were in great Brittain you received in my houſe, from all that had any relation unto Melander? Haſt thou forgot all thoſe oathes which thou ſo oft has ſworn, never to love any but this Melander? Doſt think by ſaigning to forget thy flight from London, that all thoſe who knew of thy perſidy do not remember it? Is it poſſible thy infidelity ſhould ſo choke thy memory, as not to know that Melander, who putting on the habit of a man as thou ſeeſt her, did fight with Lipandas for thy liberty, or indeed thy life? Can it be imagined that ingratitude ſhould ſo dull thy ſoul, as to forget that this Meland [...]r, who hath now ſaved thy life, is the very ſame, who in Callice came into the priſons of Lipandas to deliver thee, and expoſed her hands and feet unto ſetters, to releaſe thine?

She would have continued, but that Ligdamon interrupted her thus: Certainly I were the moſt worthy not only of blame, but of extream puniſhment, if being ſo obliged as you eſteem me. I ſhould ever loſe the memory of them; but I proteſt before heaven, that this Lidias, whoſe name you put upon me, is to me altogether unknown. How? replied Melander (and was extreamly angry) canſt thou without a bluſh ſay, thou art not the ſame, againſt whom for thy ingratitude I drew my ſword, near Neomagues, and from whom I received a wound in my arm; I cannot ſay (anſwered he and was amazed) that I am the ſame you mention; For I do remember, that being near the Town you named. I was aſſaulted by a ſtranger, without any cauſe; who was wounded; for which I was taken priſoner, and got out by the help of a woman who being deceived as you are, and taking me for one Lidias, did give me her clothes, and ſhe took ſhine. O my dear Lidias (ſaid ſhe) if for any important reaſon you deſire to conceal your name, do not think me one that will reveal it; conſider that ſo many teſtimonies of my pure affection, as I have given, may well aſſure you that I will conceal whatſoever you ſhall deſire to hide. If you will, no other name but Ligdamon ſhall ever come in my mouth: Aſſure your ſelf my deareſt friend, that my affection unto you is far above my own life, and no intereſt or advantage whatſoever ſhall make we betray you: She who hath left her countrey, her kindred, her friends; She who hath hazarded her life a hundred times to ſave you, can ſhe have any intereſt further then to pleaſe you? Say unto me freely, Melander, my deſigne is to be no longer Lidias, I deſire the world ſhould think me to be Ligdamon, I would have it thought I never ſaw Melander, I would loſe the memory of her, and thou ſhalt ſo: O my deareſt friend, that before I will diſcover thee, I will loſe the memory of thy name and my own, as long as you ſhall pleaſe: If I do betray thee, never eſteem me for Melander, and drive me out of thy preſence, as not worthy to bear the name of a woman who would only live to ſerve thee.

Wiſe and fair Melander, replied Ligdamon, I do not only admire at the grandure, and purity of your affection, but much more at the happineſs of that Lidias for whom you take me: Moſt happy may he well eſteem himſelf, that is ſo perfectly loved, by ſo many diſcreet and fair women: and certainly he is a man of moſt high merit, that is thus ſincerely eſteemed and loved: nor ſhould I yield unto him in happineſſe, by reaſon of that reſemblance which is betwixt us, were I in a condition to receive the good will of thoſe who take me for him: But know, fair and diſcreet Melander, that you are not the firſt who have been deceived by my face and voice: Many have been alſo miſtaken, and ſhould I tell you that [Page] thouſands have been alſo deceived as well you, I ſhould tell you nothing but truth: when I was brought a priſoner of war unto Rhothomagues, the mother of Lidias took me for her ſon, and to my ſorrows, the whole corporation of justice condemned me to be devoured by Lions for ſome homicide which that Lidias had committed; and there I had certainly periſhed, if one Amerina, deceived by this reſemblance, had not begged me for her husband. I relate unto you all theſe things, that you may ſee how much the world is miſtaken in me, and that if I were the ſame Lidias which you think I am, I ſhould think my ſelf obliged to you in all the ſervices which you can deſire; but miſtake me not I beſeech you, I know that I am Ligdamon, this countrey man born, where if you pleaſe, I am able to give you a thouſand teſtimonies of it: The Nymph Amaſis, her daughter Galathea, will tell you that I had my education under them; Adamas the grand Druide, the high Prieſt, the Flamines: to be breif, all the Town can teſtifie that I am Ligdamon and not Lidias.

Melander was amazed at all this that Ligdamon had told her; and ſeeing how confidently he offered to prove all he ſaid, ſhe began to doubt her miſtake, though his face and ſpeech were extreamly like to Lidias, and looking ſeriouſly upon him, if it be ſo (ſaid ſhe) it is a thing moſt ſtrange, that two ſhould be ſo extreamly alike, that no difference can be found, neither in face, ſpeech, ſtature, behaviour, nor age: and let us ſee (ſaid ſhe) if there be the ſame reſemblance in ſuch things as come by accident: then going nearer him, and taking off his hat, ſhe lifting up his hair, but not finding any mark of that wound which Lidias received in the combat with Aronthes, ſhe was quite confounded; and going back a pace or two, I muſt needs confeſs (ſaid ſhe) that I think my ſelf miſtaken, and that you are not the ſame Lidias I look for: for he has a ſcar in his head which you have not: and ſure I am that his is ſuch a mark, as never will wear out.

Ligdamon, beyond expreſſion, glad to ſee himſelf delivered of this pain, but more, to know this difference, to the end he might undeceive Amerina by it, for he knew ſhe would follow him. Would it had pleaſed the gods (ſaid he) that I had known this difference when I was condemned for Lidias; for then it would have ſaved me many a dangerous adventure: The gods, anſwered Melander, do every thing with ſuch wiſe providence, that none ought to complain: for as your reſemblance unto Lidias had like to have coſt you your life, ſo the ſame reſemblance hath ſaved it; for aſſure your ſelf, if I had not been deceived by your face, I had never ventured my ſelf ſo in the ditch to ſave you. Alſo had not I taken you for Lidias, I had never been convinced of my errour in thinking him perfideous, who perhaps is ſeeking me amongſt the Gauls, as I did you as far as Callice: for Cavalier you muſt know, that I being in priſon under Lipandas, to get Lidias out, I underſtood by the Gaoler, that he for whom I was a priſoner, was taken by the Neuſtrians, condemned unto the Lions, and delivered upon condition of marrying Amerina; whether or no this was ſadneſs unto me, let him judge that ever loved; but ſo it was, that after many a ſad complaint, yet ſuch as never durſt come out of my lips, for fear of being known, I languiſhed thus in this pain: for the life I led, could be phraſed nothing but a languiſhment, never grieving for the condition wherein I was, but only becauſe I could not ponyard my ſelf in the preſence of ungrateful and perfidious Lidias; but when I was in greateſt deſpair of ever getting out of that miſerable place: The Franks one night, I know not how, became maſters of the Town, the Gaoler h [...]mſelf ſet open the priſon doors, and unſetterd our feet, in hopes that ſome Franks who were priſoners amongſt us would ſave his life for it. But I, who extreamly deſired to ſee Lidias, that I might in his and Amerinas preſence ſacrifice my life, I was no ſooner at liberty, but finding ſome horſes which had no owners, I took one and got out of Callice, having in my company only one young man who conducted me, and being priſoners together were become friends: with him I went unto Rothomagues, where I no ſooner entred, but I was informed by a reverent Matron, of whom I enquired for Lidias, that he was at a houſe of Amerinas his wife not far from thence, and beſeeching her to tell me the way, ſhe told me that it was in the way towards the great city of Paris. Judge you whether this news did [Page] not ſting me to the ſoul; but haſting out of the Town, and overtaking the young man who conducted me, for he durſt not enter in, by reaſon of ſome enemies; And I talked with him, but truly I know not what, nor which way I parted from him: But ſo it was, that preſently after I came to this houſe, where they told me that Lidias was gone three days before, with Amerina his wife, towards Forreſts, upon ſome buſineſs: I preſently followed after, and by the way heard oftten of them: At laſt, one day, after a large journey, and when the heat of the day had almoſt ſweltred my horſe, I ſaw a ſhade by the high way ſide, which I thought would ſhelter me from the extream heat of the day: The wearineſs of my ſelf and my horſe made me alight, and I had no ſooner tyed him to a Tree, but I ſpied a woman, who by what I have heard from you, I now think was Amerina: I went unto her, and asked her if it would be no offence to participate of her ſhade: To which ſhe gave me a very civil anſwer. At the ſame time you came with ſome boughs to make the place more ſhady: As ſoon as ever I caſt my eye upon you, I took you, as I did now, for Lidias whom I looked for, and thought that woman to be Amerina: I muſt needs confeſs that I was moved with ſeveral paſſions; for once I was in a mind to fall upon Amerina whilſt ſhe ſlept, and firſt to run a ponyard into her breaſt, and then into my own, before your face: Another time I deſign'd to let the innocent woman alone and to open my own breaſt, and as I was dying, to take ſome of my blood, and throw it in your face, upbraiding you with your infidelity: But ſome good genius diverted me from thoſe cruel reſolutions, and conſtraining me to go a little further off, after a hundred different conceptions, I thought it beſt to die by your own hand, and not by my own; to the end you might the more lament my death.

This being my deſign, you know what ſigns I made unto you to ſeparate you from Amerina, and how violently I caſt my ſelf upon your ſword, with which indeed I was wounded in my arm, but I know not how it miſſed my heart, for there was my intention to receive it; and I had ſuch an opinion of receiving it there, that when I felt the point of the ſword, I fancied that it had reached my heart; ſo as having heard that all wounds of the heart were mortal, I fancied my ſelf to be dead; and when I returned to my ſelf again, I found that I was in the hands of the Governour of Neomague. I underſtood ſince, that he finding me in a ſwoon, he cauſed me to be taken up as dead, but the motion of thoſe who carried me, did revive me; ſo ſetting me upon a horſe, they carried me away; when, to my thinking, I ſaw you paſs by my horſe, very well mounted. Certainly (ſaid Ligdamon and interrupted) it was ſome other, for I was on foot, and never left Amerina till we were both taken together. If ſo, replyed Melander, either it was Lidias, or ſome other who reſembles him, as you do: But ſo it was, that I told the Governour with a deep ſigh, it was he who had put me into that condition; and as ſoon as the Governour heard it, he cauſed him to be purſued and brought to priſon.

When night came, I began to think how I ſhould be a cauſe of puniſhing Lidias, and therefore was very ſorry for what I had ſaid: And as I was in bed the next morning, they brought me a woman in your clothes, to ſee if it was ſhe who hurt me, and I ſaid ſhe was not: But I was extreamly aſtonished when they brought him whom I accuſed, for truly, I took him for you, I mean Lidias. And left he ſhould know me, I turned my face the other way, as I lay in my bed: and though I knew I had reaſon enough to wiſh him ill, yet I could not find in my heart to do him any harm: ſo as altering my voice, I declared that it was not he, but ſome other, who had taken the habit of that woman. Upon this diſcharge he was releaſed. I beſeech you (ſaid Ligdamon) what became of the woman, for it was ſhe who ſaved me? The Governours wife (ſaid ſhe) took her off from all puniſhment, and is ſo far from all harm, that to morrow I believe ſhe will return home. But to continue that diſcourſe of my miſerable fortune; In the night time when I could not ſleep, by reaſon of the wound, not in my arm, but in my heart, I made a hundred propoſitions to my ſelf: one while I would write unto Lidias, and let him know what wrong he had done me; but I was preſently off that, thinking he would but mock at my Letter, and with his Amerina, laugh at it: [Page] Another while I would ſend for him, not telling who I was, and in the preſence of the Governours wife, who was of a ſweet and pitiful diſpoſition, upbraid him with his perſidie and ingratitude, as thinking, that ſhame perhap [...] might work more upon him then my love could. Upon this deſign I ſlept, with a reſolution to put it in execution the next morning; but I was diſappointed, for that very night, as ſoon as ever he was ſet at liberty, he went privately out of the Town, none knowing which way he went,

When I heard of his departure, I was almoſt even mad againſt my ſelf for letting ſuch an opportunity ſo imprudently ſlip; for (ſaid I) had I accuſed him, doubtleſs he had been ſtayed, and I might have executed my deſign in ſpeaking unto him before the Governours wife: And as for my fond fears of doing him any harm by way of Juſtice, what greater puniſhment could he in Juſtice receive, then a while of Impriſonment, ſince my wound was not neer mortal? But all this reaſoning with my ſelf was in vain; and after a long debate, and vexing at my ſelf, Patience was my only remedy; and as ſoon as I could (which was within ſeven or eight days) to ſet forward towards Forreſts, where I heard you were; and as Fortune was, I came into this place where all theſe Forces did rendezvouz to ſtorm this Town: I ſearched every rank and file to ſee if I could find you; and by chance being next him that leaped into the ditch with intention to kill you, as ſoon as ever I caſt my eye upon you, and taking you for Lidias, I ran in to defend you, making it to appear, that nothing is ſtronger then Love, ſince neither any ſcorns, or offences, nor injuries, nor any thing, could keep me from expoſing my life for Lidias, whom I thought that I had reaſon to hate even to death.

Thus did Melander conclude the diſcourſe of her travels and pains; and Ligdamon preſenting his hand unto her, Fair and Generous woman (ſaid he unto her) the life which you have this day preſerved, ſhall be ſpent in your ſervice; I hope you will not depart out of this Country, before you have found a full contentment. Your unparallell'd Fortunes, and dangers which beyond all hopes you have eſcaped, is an argument that ſome good Genius conducted you hither to preſerve you. Hope therefore, and be confident that your hopes will not be fruſtrated: In the mean time, diſpoſe of me, and command me, as one that cannot be more devoted to ſerve you then I am. Theſe offers (anſwered ſhe) are ſuch, as a poor woman, deſtitute of all help, but from the Gods, might hope for from ſuch a generous Cavalier as you are: I do not refuſe theſe kind of offers, and at this time will only deſire two things from you: The one, not to diſcover that I am a woman; unto any: and the other, to let me live with you, to love and ſerve you, until ſuch time as it ſhall pleaſe the Gods I can hear ſome news of him whom I look for: If you will pleaſe to grant me theſe two requeſts, I ſhall live with ſome contentment, having always in my eye the face of my ſo much loved Lidias. Ligdamon who did much eſteem and admire the vertue of this woman, did grant her two requeſts, and with many aſſurances of his good will, did bid her good night, and went to ſet all things in good order within the Quarter that was aſſigned unto him: for though he had toyled all the day, yet would he not reſt till he ſaw all right that was under his charge: and when he returned to his Lodging, he heard ſome in the next houſe that complained exceſſively. Ligdamon being very pitiful, and ſharing in the ſorrows of another, hearing this lam [...]ntable voice, and believing it to be ſome that was wounded, he commanded one that followed him to go in, and bring him word whether the wounded man wanted any thing, in the mean time he ſtayed at the door: He who went in upon this errand, did ſee a man tyed by the arms and legs unto a Bed poſt, without any to look unto him: the light which the fire caſt which was in the chimney, did make the meſſenger judge him to be ſome ſtranger, and that perhaps ſome had taken him priſoner at the laſt Sally, yet ſeeing no harm done unto him, and obſerving that he ſtrove all he could to draw the bed unto which he was tyed, towards the fire: What reaſon (ſaid the man unto him) have you to complain? And why do you ſtrive ſo to get near the fire? Perhaps it is to try if you can break your chains; but alas poor man, though they were looſe, yet little hopes could you have to eſcape a hundred Court of Guards, beſides as many ports to hinder you. The ſtranger looking wildly upon [Page] him, if I had no cauſe of complaint (anſwered he) I ſhould be aſhamed to open my mouth; but I muſt die, and therefore when you thought my getting to the fire was to eſcape, alas it was only that I might end this miſerable life by fire; and I was ſo far from deſiring any eſcape, that the firſt minute my hands were at liberty, I reſolved ſhould be the laſt of my life.

Ligdamon who was impatient, and thought it long before the man returned, he went himſelf into the chamber, and ſeeing this man in that condition, who are thoſe (ſaid he) who treats this priſoner ſo cruelly? The Souldiers into whoſe hands he fell, being in the next room, they came to give an accompt: Sir (ſaid a corporal) we did not put this man into this condition wherein you ſee him, with any intentions of uſing him ill; but on the contrary, we did it out of compaſſion; for he is ſo deſperate, that if we had not taken a knife from him, it had been before now at his heart: ſo as we were conſtrained to tie him in this manner, leſt he ſhould kill himſelf. Certainly (ſaid Ligdamon) he hath received ſome ſtrange misfortue, did he never tell the reaſon of his deſpair? No, ſaid the corporal, nor could we ever get any thing from him, but ſighs and tears. Ligdamon looking upon him, and thinking him to be a man of valour, it is pity (ſaid he) he ſhould be thus loſt, perhaps he has loſt ſome whom he loved, for ſuch deſpairs ſeldome proceed from any thing but love. Then going nearer unto him, friend, ſaid he unto him, conſider that you are a man, and by conſequence, a ſubject both of good and bad Fortune: after a gloomy cloud, will come a gleam of Sun-ſhine; after a ſtorm of bad fortune, will come a calme of good: Cavalier (anſwered the ſtranger) the compaſſion which you ſeem to have of my miſery, makes me think you to be a man of merit: for I never knew a baſe heart pity the afflicted.

This opinion which I have of you, makes me now repent my attempt of taking away your life in the laſt ſcuffle, though I have cauſe enough to accuſe of all my wiſeries. Was it you (ſaid Ligdamon) who fell upon me in the ditch, when I cauſed all the enemies engines to be burned? It was I▪ anſwered he, that ſhould have been very ſorry if I have accompliſhed my intent, but ſhould have been very glad if pour ſword had then taken away my life, ſince it had raviſhed that perſon from me, for whoſe ſake I only deſired life. I am ſorry, replied Ligdamon, that I was any cauſe of your diſcontent; but you ought to think me very innocent, for in the heat of combate one can hardly tell whom they ſtrike: yet, if my memory do not fail me, he whom I held under me, when you aſſaulted me, is not dead; for when he asked life of me I gave it unto him. O good gods, cryed out the ſtranger, is his life ſaved? Certainly (ſaid Ligdamon) I did him no hurt after he had rendred himſelf, for it is not my cuſtome to hurt thoſe who quit their arms; and beſides, I could hardly do it, ſince you aſſaulted me upon a ſudden: upon this, ſome of thoſe who were near Ligdamon at that time, did teſtifie that the man eſcaped, and though they ſaw him when he went away, yet they had ſo many other priſoners in their hands, that they could not follow him.

O moſt omnipotent Tautates (cried out the ſtranger, lifting up his eyes to heaven, and would have done ſo his hands, had they not been tyed) is it poſſible I ſhould be ſo happy? and that my deſpair ſhould help that perſon to eſcape? Certainly (ſaid all the company) we ſaw him out of the ditch: I am very glad on't, ſaid Ligdamon: But to ſee the ſtrange effects of inward joy; one might perceive the eyes and the countenance of this man, ſo to change, that he ſeemed not the ſame he was a minute before; and addreſſing his ſpeech unto Ligdamon, Cavalier (ſaid he unto him with a mild and temperate voice) in giving life unto one, you have given it unto two: for if ſhe of whom I complained had died, nothing could have kept me alive; I ſay ſhe, for you muſt know that though you ſaw her in the habit of a man, yet ſhe is the moſt generous and brave woman that ever was upon the earth: and that you may ſee what cauſe I had to love and admire her, give me leave to relate the hiſtory of all my troubles. Ligdamon, who ſaw him much changed, and his ſpeech more moderate and diſcreet: he had an opinion, that this news had ſettled his mind; and pittying to hear him talk ſo tyed; Stranger (ſaid he unto him) I ſhould be very glad to hear you, but am ſorry to [Page] ſee you in that condition; and yet I dare not ſuffer you to be untyed, leſt you ſhould do ſome act of inhumanity againſt your ſelf. No, no, Sir, anſwered he, your courteſie has more obliged me then ſo; and the aſſurance of ſo many perſons, that ſhe is alive whom I ſo much lamented, does command me to live, that I may ſerve both you and her. Upon this aſſurance (ſaid Ligdamon) I will command you ſhall be untyed: you ſhall go with me to my lodging, where you ſhall find better accomodation then in this place. This unask'd for favour (ſaid the ſtranger) obliges me to paſs my word, never to forſake you until you diſmiſs me; and to tell you, that being neither any Officer nor Souldier unto your enemies, nor having paſſed any promiſe to ſerve them, I would never whilſt I live bear arms againſt you, nor ever go into your enemies army; but with a ſword in my hand to fight your quarrel, were it not that ſhe, for whoſe ſake I am your priſoner, is in their Camp, and I cannot diſpoſe of my ſelf until I have found her.

Upon this, the corporal untyed him, and he went with Ligdamon unto his lodging, where he was put into good clothes, for his own were plundered from him by thoſe who took him, and thoſe which remained upon him, he had torn to pieces in his rage: afterwards Ligdamon, cauſing him to ſit down, and they two being alone in the chamber, he began thus.

The ſequel of the Hiſtory of LIPANDAS.

THoſe who never knew the Grandure and Puiſſance of that god which is called Love, ought to learn by my example, how to honour and reverence him, unleſs they will incur the ſame puniſhments which I have, for abuſing thoſe who did adore him, and for not doing ſo great reverence unto that great Deity as is due: for know Sir, that as ſoon as I left my Nurſe, I began ſo much to deſpiſe love, and all that followed him, that to tell me one was a lover, was enough to make me ſcorn him, when at any time I chanced to hear of any extraordinary effect of that paſſion, I uſed by way of mockery to ſay, that they changed the name of things, and that this which they called love, was indeed madneſs, and ſo ought to be called. When I was at any meetings, where I ſaw many idolizing a fair face, and were ſo tyed by the eyes that they could not move out of the preſence of thoſe fair ones, I was wont to ſay, that the men did but mock the women, and the women the men; when ſome would needs prove, that he was forced to a beauty, and that her charms were inevitable, I preſently concluded him to be only a Sophiſter, that to ſhew his wit would argue for, or againſt any argument that was propounded. Nay more then al this, from my very infancy, to the Autumn of my age, I could never find in any of thoſe who were cryed up for ſuch high beauties, any thing more amiable then in other women: So as I may ſay, that as there are ſome who are born blind, others deaf, others without a taſte, or at leaſt a taſte different from others: ſo was I born without any ſentiment of love or beauty, and all my delectation at that time was in hunting, or in wars, which I followed whereſoever I could ſee the ſeat was. Now Sir, I lived in this contempt of love and beauty until of very late, when that God, who would not ſuffer any mortal to trample his honour and his laws ſo under foot, did make me know his power, by a way as extraordinary as my crime.

Thoſe who knew me, called me by the name of Lipandas, born in a city of the Neuſtrians called Rothomagues, and of Parents, who there held the prime rank. And whereas, my countrey maintained great wars againſt the Romans, and they againſt the Franks, I had occaſions enough of ſhewing my valour without ſtirring out of the Neuſtrian limits, or at leaſt out of our Army: and therefore▪ a place of great concernment being in the power of our Lords, which was called Callice, the government of it was committed unto me, and I kept it ſeveral years. About a month ſince, one whoſe name was Lidias, coming from great Brittain, unto which he was fled for Sanctuary, landed in this place.

[Page] Ligdamon upon this laying his hand upon the ſtrangers, ſtay a while Cavalier I beſeech you (ſaid he unto him) are you the ſame Lipandas, who being Governour of Calais, did impriſon Lidias for the death of Arontes? I am the very ſame (anſwered he) but what knowledge could you have of me in a place ſo diſtant from the Neuſtrians? Content your ſelf (replyed Ligdamon, that I know what you tell me, and more, that a young woman of great Britain, called Melander, armed like a Cavalier, did fight with you about the liberty of that Lidias; afterwards to deliver him, did put her ſelf into priſon, and when the Franks ſurprized Calais, was delivered out of your hands.

I perceive (replyed the ſtranger) that you do know almoſt all I have to tell you, and therefore my diſcourſe will be ſhorter then I intended: Then looking upon him a little better, Oh heavens! cryed he out; why do I make any relations of it unto you? for if I be not much miſtaken, it is Lidias unto whom I ſpeak: To Lidias! anſwered Ligdamon, No; but to one that has paid very dear for his reſemblance unto that Lidias, as you ſhall underſtand when you have done your diſcourſe. The credit which I give to your words (replyed the ſtranger) makes me give my eyes the lye, for I durſt have ſworn you had been Lidias; but ſince you do deny it, I will return from whence I digreſſed; and then he replyed thus. Oh Sir, ſince you are acquainted with theſe accidents, perhaps you know alſo, that this Melander was no ſooner out of my priſon, but ſhe went after that ungrateful Lidias, who having forgotten all thoſe extraordinary favours which he had received from that generous woman, went unto Rothomagues to marry Amerina, her for whom he had killed Arontes, my neer Kinſman: As for me, I remained a Priſoner in the hands of one Lindamore, a Cavalier of Gaul the moſt accompliſhed that ever came into Neuſtria; and the cauſe of it, as afterwards I underſtood, was this fair Melander, whom I retained Priſoner: for Lindamore hearing, I know not how, what teſtimonies of generoſity and affection this woman had expreſſed unto Lidias, and being informed that ſhe was a priſoner in the Caſtle, as ſoon as the Caſtle was taken, he ran to deliver her: But not finding her (for the doors were ſet open, and ſhe, with many others, eſcaped) I think there was not any corner or hole which he did not ſeek, continually asking me where ſhe was: I who could not tell him, nor knew Melander but under the notion of the ſad Cavalier, I knew not what to anſwer him: At laſt, making me underſtand that he ſought for a woman in the habit of a Cavalier, who fought with me for Lidias, and was afterwards impriſoned: As for the ſad Cavalier, anſwered I, he indeed was my priſoner, but as for any woman, there was none in my hands. Well, replyed Lindamore, that ſad Cavalier is the woman I mean: How? replyed I, the ſad Cavalier a woman! Why? ſaid Lindamore, was ſhe ſo long in your hands, and you not know it? Why it was ſhe who loved Lidias, and in defence of him, armed her ſelf, and vanquiſhed you, and afterwards with a moſt heroique courage, bought the liberty of Lidias by the loſs of her own.

Now Sir, you ſhall hear how that puiſſant God of Love was revenged upon me; I who always mocked at his power, and deſpiſed his Laws, no ſooner heard that this ſad Cavalier was a woman, but I fell into moſt extream admiration: this admiration bringing into my memory the generoſity of that woman, I began to eſteem her; and at laſt, contemplating upon the ſweetneſs of her face and aſpect, her modeſt behaviour, her admirable patience, and her unparallell'd affection, I fell from eſteem, to love her; a thing which I ever thought impoſſible: But learn O all ye mortals! to reverence the ſupreme Deities: for I not reſting in an ordinary affection, Love had ſtuck his arrows ſo deep in my heart, that I became all paſſionate flame, ſo as I may ſerve for an example unto all ſuch Atheiſts as do not acknowled the puiſſance of this great God, who above all the reſt, ought to be called Heſus, that is, ſtrong and puiſſant. In the mean time, Lindamore underſtood that Melander was no ſooner at liberty, but ſhe haſted after Lidias, who was gone to Rothomagues: and the very truth is, had I been free, as Melander went after Lidias, I had gone after Melander; but having paſſed my word unto that Cavalier, not to ſtir out of his houſe, I was able to do nothing but languiſh, and think my ſelf worthy of that puniſhment which I endured, for having ſo fair, [Page] and ſo ſweet a woman ſo long in my hands, and never knowing it. I found then that this paſſion made me have a different opinion of things, and was forced to ſay, that none was able to reſiſt the god of Love: I that was wont to laugh at thoſe that begged any trivial favour from her they loved, could now be contented to kiſs and adore the very chains which touched the fair hand of my Saint Melander. And therefore I deſired one of Lindamors men to go with me into the priſon where ſhe was wont to be: The man like the maſter, being all Courteſie, went with me, and not being well able to diſcern which chains had fettered her, I deſired him to put them all upon me: as ſoon as I had them upon me; O chains, ſaid I, which once fettered the hands of her who now has fettered my heart, yet leſs cruel then I, ſince you were broken to let her go at liberty, whom I ſo unworthily kept in my priſon; you may with abundance of reaſon upbraid me with the crime which I have committed; for I was the cauſe and the Authour, but you more inſenſible then I was, had ſome pity upon her, and knew that ſhe to whom the liberty of all hearts is due, did not deſerve to be ſo impriſoned. O you moſt happy bonds (ſaid I and kiſſed them) happy in the touch of her fair hands, ſhew me in what place you received that honour, that by kiſſiing it, I may expreſs the devotion which I bear unto them: upon this I kiſſed them again, and beſeeched thoſe that were about me to fetter my arms and my hands with all the ſhakkles in the priſon, and becauſe out of pity, they refuſed to do me that office, O good gods (cryed I out) is it poſſible that he who had no compaſſion upon the faireſt, and moſt generous woman upon earth, ſhould find any ſo compaſſionate unto me? Upon this their denial, I ſpoke and did many things that were ridiculous, ſome could not chuſe but laugh, and others ſeeing a man ſo loſt in love, did reſent my condition.

All theſe paſſages were reported unto Lindamor, and Lindamor related them unto Clidemant, and both out of curioſity would needs come and ſee me. The condition wherein they found me, was ſuch, that any that ſaw me would ſay I was out of my wits: I had fettered both my feet with as many chains as covered them, and one hand was tying the other as well as it could: as many chains were about my neck as could hang; and thus hardly able to ſtir, I kiſſed thoſe that my mouth could reach, reverencing the reſt, becauſe they had touched that fair one. Although I ſaw them enter, yet I continued my devotion of kiſſes, as if I ſaw them not, which held them a while admiration: at laſt Clidemant came nearer unto me: Cavalier (ſaid he) what are you doing with all theſe chains? and why are you thus fettered with them? Sir, anſwered I, I do not only deſire them to be continually upon me, but I wiſh I could hang them about my heart. About your heart? (ſaid Clidemant) you know that then they would kill you: for any thing that touches the heart is mortal. O Sir, replied he, that rule is falſe. For Melander doth not only touch my heart, but has pierced it with a hundred arrows; yes, has pull'd it out of my breſt, and yet I do hot die. That touch of your heart, replied Clidemant, is only in imagination; but if theſe chains ſhould touch it doubtleſs you would die: No Sir, (ſaid I unto him) for do you not know that Iron touched with a Loadſtone, does participate of the quality of the ſame Loadſtone, and will draw Iron alſo? I know it, anſwered Clidemant, and have ſeen it; but what's that to the purpoſe? Why this (anſwered I) theſe chains though of Iron, yet having touched the fair hands of Melander, have received a certain virtue and quality, as they can touch hearts and not make them die, as the fair Melander can do her ſelf. Upon this Clidemant ſhrugg'd his ſhoulders, and went away; but Lindamor very ſorry to ſee me ſo diſtracted, he came unto me, and did all he could to divert me from ſuch thoughts; and by little and little, his kind words, and the pains I ſaw him take to reduce me to my underſtanding, did ſo operate with me, that I was perſwaded by him: for though theſe actions did make me ſeem as if I were mad, yet I was not ſo; but the Grandure of this new paſſion, as the ſplendour of the Sun does dim the Stars, ſo this at the firſt did dim me from the ſight of all other things, or at leaſt made me deſpiſe them.

Eight dayes did I continue in this ſort; at laſt the kindeſs of Lindamor was [Page] ſuch, that ſeeing me ſo unmeaſurably ſad and melancholy, and that I grew worſe and worſe every day, he took pity upon my affliction, and drawing me aſide, did uſe all poſſible arguments and conſiderations that could comfort an afflicted perſon, and afterwards offered me ſo many favours as have created me his ſervant as long as I live. Unto all which, I returned no other anſwer at the firſt but ſighs; yet at laſt, being preſſed unto it, I let him underſtand in the beſt language I had, how deeply I reſented his extraordinary kindneſſes, and told him, that my griefs did not proceed from my impriſonment, or my loſſes, but only becauſe I underſtood that Melander was gone after Lidias, and I not able to follow her; and that love had ſo wholly devoted me unto her, that if in this queſt ſhe received any harm, it would moſt infallibly coſt me my life; becauſe I thought my ſelf the cauſe of all the harm ſhe received.

Lindamor, who I believe was not ignorant of loves power, went the ſame hour to procure my enlargement, and did ſo ſolicite Clidemant, that he obtained it of the Childerick, who was newly arived at that place. Upon this Lindamor returned unto me with a ſmiling aſpect, Cavalier (ſaid he) leave off all your ſorrows and any afflicting your ſelf, for the Prince Clidemant, at my requeſt, hath obtained your liberty, and I come to bring you the news, to the end that before you go away you may promiſe me one thing, which is not at all prejudicial unto your affection, but on the contrary it will oblige you to obſerve it. Upon that condition (ſaid I unto him) I ſhall thankfully receive the favour you have done me. Then promiſe me (ſaid he) that you will never bear Arms againſt the King of the Franks nor againſt Clidemant: and you are obliged unto it by the courteſie which you now receive, but much more by the affection which you bear unto Melander, who is ſo affectionately devoted unto Clidemant, for the favours which in good time you may know ſhe hath received from him, that certainly if ſhe have any power over you, it will be one of the firſt commands ſhe will enjoyn you.

Sir, anſwered I, I am extreamly glad the obſervance of your deſires will ſute ſo well with Melanders, for I ſhall with more courage make a promiſe of it unto you. But aſſure your ſelf, Sir, that though ſhe ſhould ſtand but as indifferent, and not poſitively enjoy the contrary, I ſhould think my ſelf the moſt ungrateful man that ever wore a ſword, did I not moſt religiouſly obſerve it. Upon this promiſe (replied Lindamor) I give you your enlargement. I did admire at this kindneſs and magnanimity, for avarice does often choke thoſe virtues in many men. I took his hand, and by force would have kiſſed it by way of thanks; and becauſe he would not ſuffer it, you know Sir, ſaid I, that this is the leaſt teſtimony of my gratitude I can pay, and it ſhould be greater if I were able, but at this time I beſeech you receive it with aſſurance, that as long as I live I ſhall never forget my great obligations unto you: and going along with him, I made the ſame proteſtations unto Clidemant and Childerick; and after I had taken my humble leave of them all, I went in queſt of that fair one.

Firſt I went towards Rhothomagues, but not being willing to enter in, becauſe I knew not how the Lords would take the loſs of Callice; and therefore went unto a kinſmans houſe, not far from the Town, where enquiring how all ſquares went, I underſtood that every one was well ſatisfied concerning me, though the loſs of that place was of great conſequence: for they all knew I was betrayed, and that there is no guarding of ones ſelf againſt a Traytour. But that not being the buſineſs which brought me thither, I fell into diſcourſe concerning Lidias; and then he told me, how he would have poyſoned himſelf to prevent his marriage with Amerina; then did I conclude with my ſelf, that his love unto Melander was the cauſe: in this opinion, I asked him what was become of Lidias, and he anſwered that both he and Amerina were loſt, and that it was reported they were gone into Forreſts, none knowing the cauſe.

I thought that I knew enough for that time: ſo as the next morning pretending that I deſired to know more particularly what the Lords did think of me, I would go as ſecretly as I could unto one of them that was my profeſſed friend, but I went quite another way, aſſuring my ſelf that Melander was infallibly followed [Page] after Lidias. And yeſterday by fortune I came into this Army, where curioſity invited me to ſtay, and ſee the diſcipline of that Country; and finding that the General of the Army did think to carry that Town at the very firſt onſet. I had a deſire to be there, and at the laſt Salley, I ſtood upon the ſide of a ditch, looking upon the valour of your men, and the flight of the Aſſailants, having no diſpoſition to draw my ſword on either ſide: But I know not how, caſting my eye upon you, I thought I ſaw the generous Melander, whom you held by the Neck, and ready to run your ſword into her Breaſt. Oh heavens! Cavalier, how infinitely was I ſurpriſed at the ſight? I lept into the Ditch, with full intention to be killed in killing you; and I know not what had hapned, if the voice of ſome who ran after me, had not warned you of my intention; for upon it you guarded your ſelf. But now I thank the Gods that my intention took no effect, as well becauſe of that vertue and merit which I find in you, as becauſe I am yet preſerved, to ſerve that generous woman.

Thus ended Lipandas; and Ligdamon with a ſmile and anſwered, I muſt needs confeſs Cavalier, that Love, above all the reſt of the Gods, takes moſt delight in entangling the ſpirits of men, and in producing wonderful effects: And that you your ſelf may confeſs as much, know that this Lidias, who was reported would have poyſoned himſelf, becauſe he would not marry Amerina, and who ſince came into this Country, was my ſelf, who am Ligdamon, and who having a great reſemblance of that Lidias, was like to be devoured by Lyons, and ſince being conſtrained to ſeem as if I would marry Amerina, who could not be perſwaded but I was him whom I reſembled and therefore to undeceive her, I brought her hither, where by a ſtrange misfortune we parted. But that you may the better ſee how that God delights in theſe confuſions, I beſeech you follow me, and you ſhall ſee how far your eyes deceived you, when you thought you ſaw Melander in the ditch. Then taking him by the hand, he carried him into Melanders chamber. Cavalier (ſaid he unto her) I come to let you ſee one of our priſoners, who will not tell us his name, and to ſee whether haply you know him. At the firſt, her thoughts were ſo far from Lipandas, that ſhe knew him not. But the poor Cavalier being extreamly ſurprized at this encounter, as ſoon as ever he caſt his eyes upon her, Oh heavens! cryed he out: Upon this word he fell at her feet, and would have uttered ſome words, which he was not able to pronounce.

It was happy that Ligdamon brought him alone, for otherwiſe certainly Melander had been known to be a woman; for ſhe not being able to endure a man ſhould lie ſo proſtrate before her, did (out of her natural curteſie) offer to raiſe him up; and he at the laſt cryed out. O Melander! Is it poſſible your fair hand ſhould daign to touch ſuch a worthleſs perſon, and one whom you have ſo much cauſe to hate? Though the voice was not altogether unknown unto her, yet ſhe knew him not; but ſtill offering to raiſe him up, Oh moſt fair and generous woman (ſaid he unto her) I will never riſe from your feet, until you have either pardoned or puniſhed the errour which I have ignorantly and innocently committed againſt you. Melander who did not yet know him, as well becauſe ſhe had ſeldom ſeen him when ſhe was in priſon, as becauſe it was now dark, the candle being at the other end of the chamber, ſhe knew not what to anſwer, unleſs in words of civility, and actions which expreſſed her good will; yet ſtill ſhe continued to raiſe him up. Ligdamon who perceived ſhe did not know him. It is ſtrange Cavalier (ſaid he unto her) that this humble ſubmiſſion of Lipandas ſhould not obtain that favour which he begs. Lipandas! (ſaid ſhe, and was extreamly ſurprized) is this Lipandas? Yes Madam (anſwered that Cavalier) I am the ſame unworthy Lipandas, who when he did not know you, did ſo unworthily treat you, and who now knowing you, does admire your vertue, and beg a pardon for his innocent ignorance. She looked a while upon him, and gave no anſwer; at laſt, taking him by the hand, yes, yes Lipandas (ſaid ſhe) I do with all my heart pardon all the injuries I received from you; and the more willingly, becauſe by this means you have given me an occaſion of making my love to Lidias appear. After this, raiſing him up with more careſſes then ever he expected, ſhe asked him what fortune brought him to that place? But when ſhe underſtood that ſhe was [Page] the cauſe of his being taken, and that it was he who would have killed Ligdamon, out of an opinion that he ſaw her in danger, ſhe could not chuſe but wonder at this happy encounter: And to let you ſee Lipandas (ſaid ſhe unto him) that I do not only pardon, but alſo forget all the ill uſage I received from you, I beſeech you Cavalier (ſaid he unto Ligdamon) to beſtow this priſoner upon me. I will not only beſtow him (anſwered Ligdamon) but all that I have upon you, but one thing I ſhall humbly beg of you in exchange, which is, to make him as much my friend, as I am a ſervant unto Lindamore and Clidemant, unto whom he is ſo much obliged. I do not know (replyed Melander) what acquaintance he has with thoſe two Cavaliers, but if he have any mind to oblige me, he ſhall make it appear, in loving and ſerving all thoſe that love them, or have any dependency upon them: For I am as much obliged unto them for their curteſies, as unto him that ſaved my life, ſince being by fortune of War their priſoner, they did not only give me my liberty, but ſhewed me ſo many favours, that I was in a capacity to ſave the life of Lidias, by taking his impriſonment upon me. Fair and generous Melander (ſaid Lipandas) theſe words, which are to me inviolable commands, ſhall be for ever engraved in my memory: and I do profeſs and vow my ſelf as long as I live, a ſervant unto Ligdamon, and all thoſe who are lovers of Clidemant and Lindamore. Upon this Ligdamon ſaid unto him, I do receive this aſſurance of your amity, and do acquaint you, that you are obliged by your vow to ſerve the Nymph Amaſis; as the mother of Clidemant, and Galathea as his Siſter. The Mother and the Siſter of Clidemant! replyed Lipandas, I were unworthy to bear the name of a Cavalier, if I did not freely offer my life for them both, and I ſwear by Tantates, ſo I will.

Ligdamon upon this embraced him; and after Melander had deſired him not to tell any that ſhe was a woman, he gave him his liberty. Then cauſing him to be better clothed, he carried him to the Nymph Amaſis, and the Prince Godomar, telling them, that the curteſie of Clidemant and Lindamore, had purchaſed unto them that Cavalier, whom they received according to his merits.

In the mean while, Meronthes who was grieved to the very ſoul that he had failed in his promiſe of opening a Port, he ſent out his ſon, when Ligdamon ſallied forth to [...] the Engines which were in the ditch: This young man being well inſtructed [...] Father, he mingled himſelf amongſt thoſe that followed Ligdamon; an [...] [...] ſaw every one buſie about other things, he ſlipt away unto Polemas, [...] an excuſe from his father, that he could not open the Port as he promiſed, becauſe Adamas had changed their Quarters in the night time, and if he continued the ſame order, he could not promiſe him for the future, ſince he could not know what Quarter would fall to his lot: But that if he reſolved to continue a formal Seige, he had thought of an infallible way to let him into the Town in a ſhort ſpace, which was this: The houſe of Meronthes ſtood cloſe by the wall, in a place which the ſon ſhewed unto him; in it there was a deep cave, which was made for keeping of wine in the Summer, and the ditch about the Town was much higher then it; he promiſed to make a paſs under the ditch from it, unto what place Polemas would appoint, if one thing did not hinder him, which was, that he knew not what to do with the earth which he digged out in making this paſs. Polemas did exceedingly approve of this way, and asked him if there were any Wells about the houſe: and being anſwered that there was; Then ſaid Polemas, throw the earth into thoſe Wells. But (ſaid the young man) they will be preſently filled, beſides another Cave which is uſed for keeping of wood; for all are nothing to contain the earth which will be digged out. Then (ſaid Polemas) I will ſpring another Mine as neer yours as I can, that both may meet; in this I ſee no difficulty but one, which is, that our Works may be ſo ſtreight, that they may meet each other: Sir (ſaid the young man, to morrow about three of the clock in the morning, ſet a light upon the place where you intend to begin your work, and we will ſet another upon our houſe, towards which you may work and ſo we ſhall ſee which way to direct our courſes. I ſhall (ſaid Polemas) and moreover I have two Levels, the one I will give unto you, and keep the other; when you ſee the light upon the place where I intend to begin the work, then plant your [Page] Level directly towards it, as I will mine towards yours, and ſo we cannot miſs of each other: For the Miners having the direction of theſe Levels to work by, they will directly make their Mine that way: Upon this he himſelf took the two Levels, and ſhewing the uſe of them, the young man having a quick apprehenſion, quickly underſtood them.

Yet Sir, (ſaid the young man) I am to advertiſe you of two things; the one concerns your life, and the other the welfare of your affairs: As for the firſt of theſe, Ligdamon hath vowed your death, unleſs you ſpeedily releaſe Silvia: This advice Sir, is not to be ſlighted; for you know he is deſperately in love with her: and he that contemns his own life, is maſter of his enemies.

The other is Sir, That there are many who yet ſtand neutral, and are neither for, nor againſt you, who are ready to fall unto your enemies ſide, becauſe they think the war you undertake againſt your Soveraign, is unlawful, and without good ground: Now Meronthes your faithful ſervant thinks it expedient to retain many who yet waver, that you ſeek out for a ſpecious pretence, and a handſome colour for your War; which though it be not altogether true, yet it may have a face and probability of truth: And therefore he thinks it not amiſs for you to give it ont. that Adamas aſpires at the Soveraign Authority and detains the two Nymphs Priſoners; in order to which, he has procured the Prince Godomar, unto whom he has made mountainous promiſes of reward if he compaſs his deſign: That likewiſe he hath held ſecret correſpondencies with Neighbour Princes; witneſs an unknown Queen that came into Marcelles, and left in it many ſouldiers. Briefly, by this courſe many things will be imputed unto him, which though afterwards they appear falſe, yet no matter, ſince they will ſerve to blind the people, who take only the firſt impreſſion of things, and will ſo declare themſelves thereupon, that they cannot afterwards change, though they would.

Polemas gave Meronthes many thanks for the care he had of his perſon, and for his good advice. Above all Sir, (ſaid the young man, and interrupted him) he beſeecheth you to make it appear how you reſent the death of your great friend Climanthes, that all the world may ſee your love of thoſe that ſerve you; and that it is a great ſhame to ſee him ſtill hang before the Gate of the Town, from whence doubtleſs he would be taken, were it not for fear of being [...]iſ [...]overed to ſide with you, and ſo men ruine themſelves without doing any con [...]ble ſervice to you.

As to this point (anſwered Polemas) you may tell him [...] know this wicked Adamas to be the inſtrument of our loſs in Climanthes; but to morrow he ſhall ſee what revenge I will take upon Alexis, the daughter of that damned Villain, whom I have in my hands; Alſo upon Silvia, whom I have ſent for, to make Amaſis, and that Tray or, reſent the injuries which they have done me. As for Ligdamon. I do believe the notice which Meronthes gives me is true, for I have heard as much other ways, but I ſhall look well enough to him: So after many thanks and promiſes, the young man took his leave.

When night came, and was dark, the man being well inſtructed by his father, crept over the ditch, and coming to the place where Ligdamon had made a great ſlaughter of his enemies, he began to groan, and complain in a pitiful tone, ſo as the Sentinel hearing him, and asking who he was? Alas (ſaid he, faigning to f [...]ar being heard) I am the ſon of Meronthes, who coming out with Ligdamon, have been here ever ſince amongſt the dead. The Sentinel calling the Corporal, acquainted him, and the Corporal the Commander of the Guard; Order was given to throw down Cords to pull him up: So after he had bloodied his face, and durtied himſelf, complaining as if he were all wounds, he was pulled up the Wall, and carried to the houſe of his father, who was the Inventor of all this, and who ſeemed to be tranſported with joy at his ſons Reſurrection from the dead: For (ſaid he) I gave him for dead, ſince he came not back into the Town with the reſt. Oh father (ſaid the ſubtle ſon) you may well ſay that the Gods have twice given me unto you; for I have been ever ſince I went out, amongſt the dead.

[Page]The father held up his hands, praiſed the gods, and thanking thoſe that pulled him up, did reward them liberally for their care and pains. Then getting him preſently to bed, and ſeeming to ſend for a Chirurgion, he went with the company to the door of his houſe, and gave them a thouſand thanks. As ſoon as ever they were gone, he came into his ſons chamber, and the door being ſhut, he gave an accompt of his voyage; advertiſed him of the light which would be placed where the Mine was to be begun, ſhewed him the level, and the uſe of it: and to be breif, made a moſt circumſtantial relation of every particular paſſage; all which gave Meronthes abundance of contentment. And leſt friends ſhould come in the morning to ſee his ſon, and ſeeing him well, ſhould ſuſpect any thing, he lapped his head about with two or three napkins: patched his face all over, and inſtructed him ſo well with what to ſay, that he was prepared for all comers.

In the mean time, Polemas acquainted Peledontes, Argonides, Liſtander, and Ligonias, with all theſe advertiſements that had been given unto him by Meronthes, and the reaſon why he could not open a gate unto them; and entreated them they would diſperſe it about every where, that the cauſe of this taking up arms was only to ſet the Nymphs at liberty, and get her out of the hands of Adamas, who under a pretence of piety and fidelty, had ſeized upon their perſons, and intended to ſell them and the whole ſtate unto that unknown Queen; whereupon Liſtander thought it expedient to print a Manifeſto, and divulge it, not only throughout the Army, but alſo to ſend unto all the neighbouring Princes, in juſtification of their taking arms.

The drawing up of this Manifeſto was referred unto Ligonias, who had wit and words at will to guild over a rotten cauſe: and as Polemas was acquainting them with the reſolution of Ligdamon to kill him, by reaſon of Silvia, one came to tell them that Ligdamon was brought a priſoner: O good gods (cryed he out) how favourable is heaven unto me? and cauſing thoſe to enter who brought the ſuppoſed Ligdamon unto him, they preſented Lidias, whom every one took for Ligdamon: come Ligdamon (ſaid Polemas unto him) does it become the profeſſion of a Cavalier, thus to revenge his quarrels? I have no quarrels to revenge, anſwered Lidias, eſpecially in this countrey where I never was before. Were you (ſaid Pol [...]as and ſmiled) never in this countrey before? Never (anſwered Lidias) to my knowledge. I do not wonder (ſaid Polemas) that one who can ly ſo familiarly, ſhould have ſo poor a courage; and therefore (ſaid he to the Officers) take this impudent fellow out of my preſence and guard him ſafe, that to morrow he may accompany Silvia whither I ſhall ſend them: ſo without any further hearing, he cauſed him to be taken out of the chamber. A while after came Silvia, whom he would not ſee. but commanded ſhe ſhould be ſafely guarded till the morning; and to affright them the more, he ſent them both word that they muſt prepare themſelves for death; and becauſe many in the Army might think this cruelty barbarous, he ordered his confidents to give it out, that he put Aexis to death in revenge upon Adamas, who was the cauſe of all the warre, and detained the Nymphs whom he would ſet at liberty: that Silvia ſhould ſuffer in revenge of Climanthes, who ſhe, with Leonide, had betrayed into the hands of Adamas. And as for Ligdamon, he would puniſh him for attempting againſt his life.

This was preſently divulged all over the army, ſo as the Spies of Adamas gave him intimation of it the ſame night, whereat he was grieved extreamly: for though Alexis was not his daughter, yet remembring the Oracle, in obedience unto which he had been ſo indulgent unto the Shepherd; beſides, the merits of Celadon and Aſtrea, he could no chuſe but ſadly reſent their loſſe, eſpecially conſidering what the Oracle ſpeaking of Celadon ſaid, that he obtaining his Miſtreſs, his own age ſhould find abundance of happineſs.

But the ſorrows of Adamas were not comparable to thoſe of Leonide, who hearing that Alexis and Aſtrea were in the hands of Polemas, and that he would expoſe them to the ſhot of the Town in the morning; ſhe reſented it ſo bitterly, that ſhe could not chuſe but give great teſtimonies of it: for ſhe knowing that [Page] Alexis was Celadon, who ſhe loved but too well, it grieved her very ſoul to think he ſhould be ſo miſerably murdered; and it was well, for he ſhe might pretend kindred unto Alexis, for otherwiſe her ſorrows would have been known to proceed from affection; but this excuſe did not ſatisfie Adamas, who knew what relations were betwixt them, and therefore ſhe was driven to another, before ſhe could give him ſatisfaction: ſo as when Adamas wondered at her exceſſive mourning: father, anſwered ſhe, if I do not ſhew exceſſive ſorrow for Alexis, I ſhall be eſteemed of a very ill nature, and it is to be feared our enterpriſe will be diſcovered, ſo as Adamas was in ſome ſort ſatisfied with this reaſon. But Leonide not being able to ſuffer the loſſe of that ſo dearly beloved Shepherd, ſhe went unto Galathea, and with a torrent of tears, acquainted her with the taking of Alexis and Aſtrea, and with the cruel ſentence of Polemas, againſt them and Silvia: Great was the grief which this news brought unto all the Town; but it had a more bitter influence upon the ſpirit of Ligdamon then any other: for the ſorrows of Adamas was to ſee himſelf fruſtrated of the future happineſs which he expected from the Oracle. Leonide reſented the loſſe of Celadon, out of a love without hope of reciprocal correſpondency: Galatheas grief for Silvia, was, becauſe ſhe had been ever familiar with her: To be brief, the general complaints of all the Court, proceeded only from pity; but the torments of Ligdamon proceeded from love: ſo, as like a madman, he went up and down from one to another enquiring news, and hearing it with ſtrange impatiency, he fell upon the moſt extream reſolutions that are imaginable: he would go out in the night unto Polemas his Tent, and drink his blood; and becauſe they would not open the gates unto him, he would needs leap over the walls: he begg'd of Amaſis, and importun'd Prince Godomar to let him out, for he would deliver them from that rebellious enemy; he told them, that if they retained him by force, he would kill himſelf; and ſince he was reſolved upon death, it was better for him to receive it from the hands of his enemies then his own: That happily the gods would proſper his deſigne; and ſo direct his hand, as he ſhould deliver them all from the Tyrant. But Godomar, by the advice of Adamas, would not permit him; yet promiſed, that if the Rebel continued his reſolution till the morning, they would not only open the gates to him, but rather then Alexis and Silvia ſhould ſuffer, they would all go out and die with him.

This promiſe of the Prince, being ratified by Damon and Alcidon, did a little appeaſe him; yet not ſo as to ſuffer his eye to cloſe all the night: and hereupon Alcidon told him, that happily reports might prove falſe; for ſome part of it they knew to be ſo, as that Ligdamon ſhould be in the hands of Polemas. O Sir, anſwered Ligdamon, bad news proves commonly too true; and aſſure your ſelf, they have miſtaken me, and took Lidias whom I reſemble, for I was told that he followed her who came with me into this countrey. The repors of this miſtake came quickly to the eare of Melander, who being very impatient to know the truth, came preſently to Ligdamon, of whom ſhe enquired all circumſtances and what he would do. What ſhould I ſay, or what ſhould I do (anſwered Ligdamon) but that I will die for Silvia: and I (replied ſhe preſently) for Lidias. Upon this, parting from him, ſhe wept away all the night.

As theſe things did extreamly trouble thoſe that were within the Town, ſo there were ſome in the Army of Polemas, who took as little reſt, and amongſt the reſt Alexis and Aſtrea.

This Shepherd hearing what a hard ſentence Polemas had paſſed, it pierced him to the very ſoul, that his Shepherdeſſe was to be thus uſed for his ſake: and when ſhe was rudely treated by the Officers of Juſtice; is it poſſible (ſaid Alexis) that in Forreſts ſuch ſavage ſpirits, and inhumane courages ſhould be found, as are not moved at the beauty of Astrea? Does this countrey, where ſweetneſſe and civility ſo long raigned, now produce and nouriſh Monſters, more wild and keen then Africa?

Certainly you have no eyes nor heart; for if you were not blind, you could not chuſe but honour and reverence the moſt excellent work of the great gods, but all his words were uſeleſſe: and he was no ſooner in priſon with her, but he [Page] fell down upon his knees. Oh Aſtrea (ſaid he) I conjure you by the love you have unto me, to have pity upon your ſelf; and ſince 'tis only I whom they aim at, be not guilty of your own death: Could you exempt me by it, haply I ſhould excuſe the exceſs of your affection in bearing me company; but ſince your death will do me no good, alas, why will you add unto my grief, by ſeeing you die? You know that I do love you with all my ſoul, and what wrong did I ever do you, that you ſhould make me the Author of your death? You know that homicide is abominable unto the Gods, and why will you incenſe them by committing it upon your ſelf? Be not more guilty of your death then thoſe who bring you unto it. Celadon would have continued longer, but Aſtrea interrupted him. All theſe arguments and perſwaſions might avail, if you were not to die (ſaid ſhe) but the Gods in depriving me of my moſt dear Alexis do know, that they deprive me of my life alſo, for I neither will nor can live without her; and in putting you to death, they do the ſame to me: Tell not me that I am guilty of my own death if I die with you, for the threds of our lives are ſo interwoven and knit together, that the Sciſſars which cut the one, does alſo cut the other: And as for being an addition of ſorrow unto you by this action; Oh Miſtris, Is it poſſible you ſhould think I can live without you? Will you wrong me ſo much, as think I love you ſo little? A common Souldier will run through that fire which burns him unto whom he hath promiſed fidelity, nay he will be ſcorned if he do not; and may not as much be allowed Aſtrea when Alexis dies? Let not (I beſeech you) any ſuch thought harbour in your ſoul; but if you will have me die contentedly, ſay unto me, Astrea, I would have both our hearts pierced with the ſame ſpear, that our ſouls as they paſs out of our bodies, may unite for ever, as our affections already have conjoyned our wills with a love inſeparable. I uſe Miſtris theſe expreſſions of affection and love, which perhaps becomes not the inequality of our conditions and ranks, but you have allowed this familiarity formerly, and well may now, ſince death is to remove all terms of inequality, and level us all alike.

Celadon did liſten long without interruption; for firſt he thought it indiſcretion to do otherwiſe; and ſecondly, he was ſo pleaſed to hear and receive ſuch expreſſions of affection from her he loved, as he was even enchanted with her words. At laſt, my dear ſervant (ſaid he unto her) thoſe who love well, as I know you do Alexis, will always value the contentment of the party loved, above their own; I doubt not but it is ſome comfort unto you to end your days with Alexis, but do not you conſider what a grief of ſoul it will be unto me, to ſee you die? Ah deareſt Miſtris (ſaid Aſtrea) if thoſe who love well ought to have this conſideration, why not you the ſame of me? And why do not you conſider what a moſt intollerable deſpair it would be unto me, to ſurvive you? No, no Miſtris, let us not reſiſt the will of the Gods; if it be their will that one of us ſhould live, moſt certainly they will preſerve the life of the other; and if I die, I believe you will not live. 'Tis true (anſwered Celadon.) And it is more true (replyed Aſtrea) that I cannot ſurvive Alexis one minute.

Thus Alexis and Aſtrea ſighed away all the night, in giving new aſſurances of the affection which they bore unto each other; and though it was upon a ſad occaſion, yet Love did draw, even out of their moſt bitter tears, moſt incomparable conſolations. Alexis at laſt, ſeeing his Shepherdeſs would not be diverted from the reſolution which ſhe had taken, did often think it now time to declare who he was, and to undeceive her in the opinion which ſhe had of his being the daughter of Adamas; but yet ſome conſideration reſtrained him: Somtimes he would ſay unto himſelf, why ſhould I any longer conceal my ſelf, ſince now we are both at the very brink of death? But then again (ſaid he, and reprehended himſelf) why ſhould I make any diſcovery of it, ſince that will alſo be a very death? For the knowledge of it will either pleaſe or diſpleaſe her: If it pleaſe her, will not her death be more diſpleaſing unto her? And if it diſpleaſe her, why ſhould I add more grief unto her, when we are both going to die? Thus was he long diſputing with himſelf; at laſt he thought it the fitteſt time to declare himſelf as he was falling at her feet, thinking that if the tranſgreſſing her commands did offend her, he would waſh away the crime with his blood.

[Page]In the mean time day began to dawn, and the whole Army began to move and march towards the Town, circling it about as the day before; and cauſing abundance of hurdles, and faggots, and engines to march before them, it ſeemed they intended to fill up the ditch, as they did before; but becauſe they of the Town began to ſalute them with many clouds of Arrows, and throw ſuch heaps of ſtones upon them, they kept at a diſtance further off: Then a body of horſe and another of foot did open, and make a lane for Aſtrea, Alexis, Silvia, and Lidias, whom they took for Ligdamon, to paſſe through, accompanied with a hundred Pikes, and as many Halberdeirs, conducted by a Captain that was no Seguſian, and ſo choſen by Polemas, becauſe he feared thoſe of that countrey would be too favourable unto thoſe innocent perſons, which had relations to the principal of the countrey.

They had tied them all four together by the arms; and leſt they ſhould make any reſiſtance or difficulty at their going before, they had each of them a Pike faſted hehind them, to the end that he who held it might thruſt it into their bodies if they would not go: They had each of them tyed to their hands of a flaming link, and ſo were driven forward towards the gate of the Town: O moſt barbarous and prophane wretches (ſaid Alexis unto them that tyed them together) is there no ſpark of humanity in your hearts? Dare you lay your deſiled hands upon the moſt perfect workmanſhip of the gods, and not ſhut your eyes? but ſeeing Polemas himſelf coming to look how they were tyed: O thou moſt cruel Tyger (cryed Alexis unto him) haſt thou a heart of ſee die the faireſt and moſt innocent woman that ever was? If Adamas have offended thee, diſcharge thy chollour upon me that an his daughter; but what injury has Aſtrea done thee, or Alces her father? yet all this was to no purpoſe: and ſeeing a Souldier take the arms of Aſtrea to ty them he grew wild and furious, and was ſo tranſported with rage, that pulling out the Souldiers ſword (for his hands were not yet tyed) he gave him ſuch a blow as laid him dead upon the ground, and ran to another; and doubtleſſe had done ſome brave exploit upon Polemas, or the Captain, if many Souldiers had not upon a ſudden fallen upon him, and certainly had killed him, if the Captain had not reſtrained them, ſaying, that it was not for the ſervice of Polemas; but that he was to be preſerved alive, to make the gates of the Town be opened unto them.

The Captain thus got him out of their hands, and afterwards coming nearer unto him, brave woman (ſaid he unto him) it is better for thee to ſhew thy courage in taking thy death patiently then in fury; for thou ſeeſt that force cannot ſave thee: Cavalier (ſaid Alexis) I value not my life at a ſtraw, for I have kept it but too long, and I care not how ſoon it be taken away; but I cannot endure to ſee this poor harmleſſe innocent woman, ſo unworthily uſed: I had rather you would run your ſword through my heart, for I cannot endure fo ſee it and live. What is it (ſaid the Captain) that you call unworthy uſage? you know we have command to ty her unto the end of a Pike, and to drive you before us to the gate of the Town, with burning links in your hands, to fire them if they be not opened. I know it anſwered Alexis, but generous Cavalier, ſince without offence to the gods you may do it, command that ſhe be not treaed as a perſon culpable, for I do proteſt before the gods ſhe is innocent; and if ſhe muſt be tyed, let her arm be tyed unto mine, let the knots be as faſt as you will; but if you will oblige me in the higheſt degree of courteſie, let both the Pikes be tyed unto me, and that ſhe who is without crime, may be only ſubject to the ſhot of the Town, which ſhe may receive at randome, and not unto the thruſts of the rude Souldiers, who perhaps fancying ſhe has a mind to run away, though ſhe have no ſuch intention, may be ſo barbarous as to pierce her ſides.

This ſtranger, a little moved at the earneſt entreaties of Alexis, it ſhall never be ſaid (anſwered he) that I will refuſe ſo ſmall a favour, unto one that is going to die; and taking a cord, he tyed their arms together; and putting Aſtrea between him and Silvia, he tyed the other arm unto the Nymph, and the other arm of that Nymph unto Lidias, and Silvia all the while turning her head the other way thinking Lidias to be Ligdamon. Afterwards he tyed two Pikes unto [Page] Alexis, and one a piece unto Silvia and Lidias; ſo as Aſtrea only was without the point of a Pike to her ſides: When they began to march, the whole Army was moved to pity them; and if any one would have begun, certainly these would haue been a tumultuous mutiny. But Polemas accompanying him, he reſtrained the compaſſion of many; and though he ſaw Aſtrea had no Pike tyed unto her as the reſt had, yet he ſeemed to take no notice of it, becauſe her beauty had infuſed ſome reſentment of pity unto him.

In the mean time, Alexis had ſeveral motions to tell Aſtrea now at the end of his dayes, that ſhe was tyed unto Celadon: but defferring it till he ſaw himſelf wounded, he ſtill preſſed to be before her, and to put her behind him, purpoſely to guard her from the ſhot that came from the Town; but ſhe perceiving his deſigne, preſſed alſo forward to get before him, ſo as in lieu of being backward, they went forward, faſter then thoſe that followed after them deſired.

The walls of the Town were all lined with ſouldiers, who ſent whole ſhowe [...]s arrows and ſtones upon the enemy: But when they ſaw thoſe four perſons appear tyed unto Pikes, and followed by thoſe [...]to whom they ſerved for Bucklers, they were all amazed at this novelty, and as i [...] their arms were fallen out of their hands, they ceaſed ſhooting without any command given ſo to do, only to behold what would be the iſſue of this ſpectacle. But Ligdamon, who with Lipandas and Melander, were upon the battlements of the gate, no ſooner caſt his eye upon them, but preſently he knew Silvia. Whether it was that he knew her by her habit, or whether the eyes of a lover can ſee their Son as ſoon as ever it begins to ſhine, I know not; but he knew her: and the horſe no ſooner opened to make a lane for them, but he cryed out like one that was deſperate, and deſired he might go out and deliver her out, of the hands of thoſe Barbarians. And becauſe the Prince Godomar was unwilling to ſuffer him, he beſeeched Alcidon by Daphnide, and Damon by Madonthe to intercede for him, that the gates might be opened. He begged it upon his knees, and conjured the Prince as he was a Cavalier, and obliged to relieved diſtreſſed Ladies, that he would let him go to the place where Silvia was ſo unworthily treated. And becauſe Godomar told him, that he would only ruine himſelf by it, and that when it was fit time, he might and ſhould do what he pleaſed for her: O Sir, anſwered he, my life is ſpent unprofitable, if I now do not imploy it for Silvia, and if you will not let me go, I vow by all the gods, theſe hands of mine ſhall deprive me of life.

But the Prince being unwilling that upon any terms the gates ſhould be opened, and thoſe without the Town coming nearer, Melander (as ſhe thought) ſaw Lidias tyed unto Silvia: O God, cryed ſhe out (and pointed with her hand) yonder is Lidias. And Lipandas, ſpeaking▪ becauſe Ligdamon, as one out of his ſenſes, anſwered not, certainly (ſaid he) it is he, who doubtleſſe will pay very deer for his reſemblance unto Ligdamon, Ah Ligdamon, ſaid ſhe, and clapped her hands together, will you ſuffer Silvia to die? and ſhall I ſee Lidias periſh, and we not periſh with them? Ligdamon, then ſeeing that the Prince would not yield, and that every one gazed to ſee what the enemy did, he embraced Lipandas, and recommended Melander unto him, deſiring him not to forſake her: and after he had bid adieu unto them both, he ſet his foot upon the battlements, and leaped down into the ditch in the ſight of the whole Army. and all thoſe that were upon the walls.

Melander, though a woman yet tranſported with incredible affection, ſhe would needs follow, but Lipandas hindred her, and put her into the hands of a Century, deſiring him to have a care of her; and kiſſing her hand, Melander (ſaid he) for your ſake I will go and loſe my life to ſave Lidias, and preſently, before any took notice of him, leaped after Ligdamon.

The place where they fell, was by fortune very ſoft, ſo as when they came to the ground, they were up to the middle in durt, without any hurt but bemiring themſelves; and as good luck was, Lipandas light ſo near Ligdamon, that they could help each other out of the bog.

Thoſe who did drive the four priſoners before them, ſeeing two men leap [Page] over the Walls, and not knowing whether or no they were on their ſide, and came to give them ſome Intelligence, they ſtopped. At the ſame time, thoſe upon the Gates obſerved that two men, who ſeemed to have the command of thoſe who puſhed theſe Priſoners forward, did come to ſee whether they were faſt tyed; and they were not miſtaken in their obſervation: for the Captain when he was within fifteen or twenty paces of the ditch, told Polemas, that now the Priſoners had been driven a great way, and perhaps the Pikes which were tyed unto them, might be by that time looſe again, and therefore before they went any further to the Gate, he deſired leave to go and ſee them tyed faſter, becauſe the charge was committed unto him, and it concerned his honour to ſee it well performed. Polemas commended his diſcretion and affection to the ſervice, and bade him go, and thoſe of the Town forbearing to ſhoot, he was in good hope that his deſigne would take good effect.

The Captain then taking his brother with him, went unto them; they had both, beſides their other Arms, each of them a Buckler, and in either hand a drawn ſword, beſides ſhort ones that hung by their ſides. The Captain went unto Aſtrea and Alexis, and his brothe [...] [...]nto Silvia and Lidias, and ſeeming to ſee whether their arms were faſt tyed, they cut the cords in pieces which tyed them, and likewiſe the cords which faſtned the Pikes unto them. Know (ſaid he unto Aſtrea in a low voice) that I am Semires, whom the Gods have preſerved alive, to die this day in doing you ſome ſervice, and in expiation of that crime which I formerly committed againſt you. You fair Aſtrea (ſaid he unto her) get you into the ditch with that Nymph, and the Gods aſſiſt you; and you Celadon (ſaid he unto Alexis, and gave him his Sword and Buckler) now ſhew your ſelf this day to be the ſon of the valiant Alcippes. His brother at the ſame time giving a Sword and Buckler unto Lidias; Celadon and he joyned with Semires and his brother, and made head againſt the whole body of the enemy, who ſtood ſtill a while, and offered no harm, becauſe Semires was the Captain of the Troop, ſo as the Souldiers durſt not advance againſt [...]im. But Polimas perceiving it, and alſo ſeeing Ligdamon and Lipandas who met with Aſtrea and Silvia, and conducted them to the walls, from whence they had already let down Paniers to pull them up, he cryed out, Kill the Traytors; upon which command all the Souldiers fell furiouſly upon Semires, his brother, Celadon, and Lidias.

Thoſe that ſaw how Celadan behaved himſelf in the habit of a woman, and profeſſion of a Shepherd, might well ſay he did not degenerate from the courage of valiant Alcippes; all the arms he had was the Sword and Buckler which Semires gave him: but not valuing his life, he fell upon the enemy with ſuch furious agility, that he made them all keep a diſtance from him; Truth is, at every blow he ſtruck, he looked back to ſee what was become of Astrea; and when he ſaw her and Silvia upon the top of the Wall, he was joyed beyond all expreſſion, but yet they were ſo preſſed upon, that they were not able to ſuſtain the force of a multitudinous enemy: Semires had already received a wound with an arrow in his thigh, and his brother another in his ſhoulder; Lidias was almoſt run through with a Pike, and but for Celadon, could not have defended himſelf, when Ligdamon and Lipandas arrived. Theſe ſix joyning together, and being fully reſolved to ſell their lives as dear as they could, they made a moſt incredible defence, when Polemas even ſtark mad at the loſs of his Priſoners, did cauſe a whole Legion to advance. Theſe fell furiouſly upon them, and they had inevitably been all loſt, if the Prince Godomar at the ſame time had not commanded Damon to relieve them, ſallying out with three hundred Archers, and as many Pikes, over a Drawbridge, by which they might paſs unſeen as far as the Counterſcarp. And certainly they came but in time; for all ſix were ſo wounded, that they had nothing but courage to ſuſtain them: yet ſeeing this relief coming, their ſtrengths renewed, and they did not feel their wounds: Every one admired their valour, and were raviſhed to ſee what Celadon did; for the habit of a Shepherdeſs made all his actions more admirable: His Buckler was ſtuck ſo full of arrows, that there was not room for one more; his Sword ſanguin'd from point to pomel, and himſelf wounded in two or three places, eſpecially in his right ſhoulder with a ſpear, and [Page] which had made a very deep wound: yet for all that, his extream deſire of being revenged for the wrong that was done to Aſtrea, did ſo tranſport him, that he hardly ever felt it: But all this reſiſtance had been in vain, but for relief which Damon brought; which being conducted by Ceraſtes and Merindor, did give them time to take a little breath, but not long; for Polemas ſent a party of a thouſand men more, they were forced to retreat to the ditch in a little diſorder; and Semires being wounded in two places with a Pike, he was like to have cauſed the loſs of many, for he could not go, and Celadon loth to leave him, the fight renewed in that place more hotly, and more dangerous then all the time before; ſo as the multitude of enemies were very near giving a total defeat unto all this relief. But Damon keeping the enemy off with a ſtand of Pikes, and they upon the Walls ſhooting abundance of arrows, and throwing of ſtones, did keep the enemy ſo in play; that Celadon took Semires by one arm, and his brother took him the other, and got him over the ditch, whilſt Ligdamon and Lipandas did the ſame to Lidias, who could not ſuſtain himſelf; and they were preſently after both carried unto the place where Ligdamon was accuſtomed to lodge.

In the mean time, Silvia and Aſtrea, who were pulled up the Walls, and in the Town, they were no ſooner come to the next Court of Guard, but Leonide who had beeen a ſpectator of all the paſſage, came running unto them, as well to embrace her companion, as to know whether that Druide was Aſtrea or Alexis. As ſhe went, by chance ſhe met Adamas, who for all the great affairs that he had in hand, came to take ſuch order that Celadon ſhould not be known, thinking that if Galathea came to ſee him, ſhe would enter into ſome ill opinion of him: The haſte wherein he was, would not permit him any long diſcourſe; but only told her, he would have the Druide carried preſently unto his Lodging, and let none ſpeak with her, and afterwards all fitting orders ſhould be taken.

As ſoon as ever Silvia ſaw Leonide, ſhe embraced her with abundance of joy, and Leonide was glad to ſee her out of the hands of Polemas: But Leonide having an earneſt deſire to talk with the Druide; my dear companion (ſaid ſhe unto Silvia) Galathea has a moſt longing deſire to ſpeak with you; go therefore unto her, whilſt I wait upon this woman unto my Uncles lodging; for I perceive ſhe is ſo affrighted, that I would not have Galathea ſee her in this condition: Upon this taking Aſtrea by the hand, ſhe carried her almoſt by force unto the Lodging of Adamas; for ſhe had no mind to be from the Wall, until ſhe knew what was become of Alexis: But Leonide made her believe, that ſhe was already in the Town, being come in at the Sally port, out of which the Relief went. In the mean time, Adamas being told that all thoſe who went out, wete returned in, he ran unto the Port to receive Celadon; and he came juſt in the nick of time; for that Shepherd was no ſooner entred into the Town, but his loſs of blood made him fall into a ſwoon, with Semires, who was in a worſe condition then he▪ Adamas commanded he ſhould be preſently carried unto his Lodging: and taking no notice of carrying Semires with Celadon, becauſe he knew him not; Sir (ſaid Semires unto him with much pain) it was I that ſaved Aſtrea and Celadon, I beſeech you let me be carried where he is, that I may die neer them. Adamas hearing him name Celadon, and fearing left he ſhould diſcover who Alexis was, he preſently commanded they ſhould be both carried together unto his Lodgings. It was well that at the ſame time a hot Alarm was given on all ſides; for upon it, Damon, and all the reſt, ran as faſt as they could to make defence, never minding what Semires ſaid.

The Alarm was no falſe one, for Polemas being almoſt out of his wits at the loſs of his priſoners, he gave the ſigne to make a general Aſſault, as he did the day precedent, and which was ſo hotly purſued, that nothing would make them retreat but night, which then he did, with the loſt of many men for which much he cared not, ſo he could but at laſt find revenge: But the darkneſs of the night cauſing him to ſound a retreat, every one retired to his Quarter, finding now that the Town was not ſo eaſily entred as Polemas raſhly imagined, never conſidering that the weakneſs of the Walls were ſtrongly fortified by the valour and courage of ſo many brave men as were within. So as Alerantes the next morning departed, [Page] to give King Gondebaut an account of all that was done, and of the condition wherein Polemas was; who remembring the wiſe advice which Climanthes gave him, he beſought Alerantes to inform the King, that this Town was not worthy the preſence of ſo great a Prince, but to beſeech him he would only ſend him ſome Forces which he promiſed, and to ſecure the perſon of Prince Sigiſmond, conſidering that though he was his ſon, yet he was deeply in love: And for his part, he would beſiege the Town round about, of which he doubted not but to give him a good accompt within a few days. And laſtly, to aſſure him of his affection and fidelity, as one whom he would always acknowledge as his Lord and Maſter. Oh this tyrannical and horrid ambition! With what violence does it hurry mortal ſpirits to ſacrifice their thoughts, their reſt, and their lives, to ſatisfie its unjuſt and inſatiable paſſion.

Celadon in the mean time, and Semires, were carried unto the houſe of Ad [...] mas; Semires ſo wounded, that every one thought he would die before they got him thither: And the faint Shepherd with loſs of blood, though he was returned to himſelf out of his ſwoon, yet they had no more hopes of his life, then of the other: Yet both of them did moſt paſſionately deſire to be carried unto the place where Aſtrea was: but the Chyrurgions would not upon any terms allow of it: for, ſaid they, the ſight of them will make their wounds much worſe; and beſides, they ſtand in need of reſt, which they cannot take if any company be with them: So they were carried into ſeveral chambers; and becauſe they were ſtill concontinually asking where Aſtrea was, ſome made anſwer, that ſhe was with the Nymphs Amaſis and Galathea, and that ſhe would come preſently. Alas, anſwered Semires, I fear it will be too late, for I feel the pains of death coming upon me, and if there be any one amongſt you that has any ſpark of pitty in them, let them go and haſte her away, that my ſoul, before it depart out of my body, may unload it ſelf of an intollerable burthen. And he ſaid truly, for he was in that weak condition, as he was hardly able to utter thoſe words.

His Brother who held him by the hand, and knew why he was ſo deſirous to ſee her, he turned towards the Chyrurgion who had ſearched his wounds; Learned Sir (ſaid he unto him) why ſhould you deny my brother this ſatisfaction, ſince you ſee his death is inevitable? Semires hearing his brother ſay ſo, Oh Gods▪ cryed he, unleſs you will make me die deſperate, let me receive this favour from you; and becauſe he was ſo extreamly importunate, alſo ſince there was no hopes of his life, it was reſolved to ſend for her; and Leonide, who had not left her, came with her, and truly it was full time to come; for when they entred into the chamber, he was hardly able to move; yet ſtriving with himſelf, and making a ſigne unto his brother to draw all the company from the bed, leſt they ſhould hear what he had to ſay: Fair Aſtrea (ſaid he unto her) You ſee here before you that Semires, who in loving you too much, hath given you ſo much reaſon to hate him, but to waſh away my crime, I have given you my blood and my life, and beg a pardon: Had I any thing more dear unto me, or precious, I would alſo give it to repair that fault which Love hath made me commit. I know the Gods have pardoned me, ſince they have favoured me ſo far, as to die for you. I thank them with all my heart for it, and only beg of them ſo much time before I die, as to hear you anſwer; which if be ſuch as I deſire, it will accompany me unto my eternal reſt; and if it be otherwiſe, it will damn me to a hell of torment and deſpair.

Semires uttered theſe words with ſuch a faint and languiſhing voice, as wrought ſo upon the heart of Aſtrea, that ſhe could not chuſe but pity the man whom of all the world ſhe had moſt reaſon to hate; and thoſe tears which compaſſion brought into her eyes, did teſtifie that no offence can be ſo great, but a generous ſpirit can pardon it; yet not knowing how to anſwer him, ſhe wiped her eyes, and ſtood mute; ſo as Semires finding himſelf at the laſt gaſp; fair Aſtrea (ſaid he) Theſe do teſtifie ſome pity, but no pardon: Say preſently, Semires depart in peace, if you will have me hear that ſo much deſired ſpeech. Then Aſtrea anſwered, [Page] be at peace Semires, and know that as heretofore thou cauſed me to loſe him would I loved, ſo now thou haſt preſerved her whom only I can love. Upon theſe words one might ſee Semires ſo change his countenance, as if he had ailed nothing, ſo much contentment did they give him. Afterwards, ſighing upon a ſudden. May heaven be ever favourable unto you (ſaid he unto her) and preſerve Aſtrea for her happy Celadon: Theſe were the laſt words he ſpoke and ſo expired: happy in his misfortune, that he gave his life for her he loved, and in ſeeing the fair eyes of Astrea ſhed tears to waſh away his crime: tears of compaſſion, though not tears of love,

The out-cry which certain Shepherds made when Astrea was carried away, came preſently to the ears of Diana and Phillis, who having newly dreſſed themſelves, ran preſently out of the houſe to know the cauſe of the Tumult: As ſoon as ever they were out of the doors, one of the company met them: O fair Shepherdeſſes (cryed he out in a moſt ſad tone) Aſtrea is violently carried away by thirty or fourty Theives, and we being without any arms, alſo few in number, it was impoſſible for to defend her from the violence of thoſe wicked men. At the firſt, Diana and Phillis ſuſpected ſome knavery in the report, but afterwards thinking it not poſſible to counterfeit ſo well, and being ſeconded by the reſt of the company that came after him, they began to believe it, and were ſo ſurprized at the news, that they could do nothing but gaze one upon another with aſtoniſhment.

At laſt, when the firſt apprehenſion was a little abated of its violence, and left them liberty to cry and complain, they guſhed out into ſuch a torrent of tears, as would have moved the moſt barbarous man in the world to compaſſion. They were both ſwimming in the flood of tears when Silvander came, who knowing nothing at all of the cauſe, began firſt to enquire what the matter was; and not believing that any could better inform him then themſelvess, he acccoſted Phillis, and in a ſad low voice ſaid unto her. May not I know what it is which thus afflicts my faireſt Miſtreſſe? Alas, anſwered Diana, with ſwelled eyes, doubtleſſe you do know it, and are very inſenſible, if you do not ſhare with us in our ſorrows. I wiſh (replied he) I could as well bear it all to eaſe you, as I can ſhare with you in part, and I give you a ſufficient teſtimony of it, ſince not knowing the cauſe of your diſcontent, I am grieved to the very ſoul.

Shepherd (ſaid Diana then) I doubt not but you will ſhare with us in our ſorrows, when you know that Phillis and I do lament the loſſe of Aſtrea, whom theſe Shepherds, ſaw carryed away by Thieves within this quarter of an hour: How? (ſaid Silvander then) Aſtrea carried away by Theives? Yes, yes, replied Diana, and as her misfortune is without remedy, ſo are our ſorrows without an end.

Upon this Diana broke out again into ſighs and tears, which moved Silvander ſo much, that he reſolved immediately either to die or recover Aſtrea: and in order thereunto, he went unto the Shepherds, who were preſent at the misfortune: Fle, fle, ye cowards (ſaid he unto them) could you ſuffer this injury in your ſight? would you not defend Aſtrea as long as there was one drop of blood in your bodies: Shepherd (ſaid one of the company unto him) it was done upon ſuch a ſudden, as it was impoſſible for us to help it. The number of thoſe that carried her away, was treble ours; and they were upon horſes and armed, but we on foot without any arms but our ſheep-hooks, Was not that enough? (ſaid Silvander) Philander, in defence of Diana, killed a Barbarian compleatly armed, and had no other arms but his ſheephook: 'Tis true, anſwered the Shepherd, and happily we might have done as much for Astrea; but they had no ſooner ſet her upon horſeback, but they galloped preſently away out of our fight? O heavens (ſaid Silvander) what became of poor Alexis when ſhe heard of this unfortunate news? Alexis (anſwered the Shepherd) was the firſt that was advertiſed of it, and like one tranſported, not knowing what ſhe did, we ſaw her run after the Theives, calling them all the opprobrious names that could be deviſed, but I cannot think it poſſible for her to overtake them, for they will go further in an hour, then ſhe can in a day.

[Page] Diana and Phillis hearing that Alexis did run her ſelf into ſo much danger to relieve this Shepherdeſſe, their ſorrows redoubled, out of their apprehenſions of ſome harm that might happen unto her: Mean time, Silvander in an audible voice that all the Shepherds might hear him: Come, ſaid he, muſt we ſit ſtill samely, and put up this affront without reſentment? For my part, I am fully reſolved, either to die or be revenged upon theſe Rogues. Such a ſtain ſhall not lie upon me, and my reputation: He had no ſooner uttered theſe words. but all the Shepherds, who being deſcended from generous Anceſtours, had courages much above their quality, they all cried out in a loud voice, that they would loſe their lives in the quarrel. Silvander was extreamly glad to hear their reſolutions, and more when one of them deſired him in the name of all the company, that he would be their Captain, telling him that they had great confidence in his courage and conduct, and that they ſtood in need of ſuch a one to teach them what to do in ſuch an imployment. Silvander at firſt refuſed, but being earneſtly ſolicited, he took upon him the honour and charge of being their commander.

When he was ready to depart and follow after thoſe who had carried away Astrea, aſſuring himſelf he ſhould by ſome means or other hear of their retreat; and addreſſing himſelf unto Diana and Phillis: Fair Shepherdeſſes (ſaid he unto them and ſhewed them thoſe Shepherds) here are brave ſpirits that are reſolved to repair that ſhame that might be imputed to us, for ſuffering your companion to be thus carried away: we will follow our deſtinies; and if heaven favour our deſign, you will ſhortly turn your tears into joyes, at Aſtreas liberty. Phillis hearing this, ſhe could not enough admire ſo ſtrange a Metamorphoſis, which in a moment turned a company of Shepherds into a company of Souldiers, but expecting the judgement of her companion upon it, ſhe perceived her to look pale, and doubted that it did trouble her ſo as giving her the opportunity of telling him her mind concerning his ſo haſty departure, ſhe withdrew two or three paces: And then▪ Diana thinking that none could hear her, Silvander (ſaid ſhe unto him) what do you intend to do? But faireſt Miſtreſſe (ſaid he and interrupted her) why do you not call me your ſervant? Then ſervant (ſaid Diana) pray tell me what your deſign is? You that have ſo often condemned raſhneſſe in another, can you be ſo guilty of it your ſelf? Conſider Silvander the danger whereunto you expoſe your ſelf, ſince you neither know what enemies to have for to fight againſt, nor their number; for though they appeared not above thirty or fourty; yet perhaps there are thrice that number engaged in the ſame deſigne, and for ought you know, may be the principal of all the neighbouring Provinces. Methinks ſervant, you ſhould more ſeriouſly weigh theſe things, and ſomething ſatisfie the deſire that I have, you ſhould not attempt things impertinently.

Silvander hearkened unto Diana with abundance of contentment, yet being a little too impatient, faireſt Miſtreſſe, ſaid he, though my ruine were inevitable, and though I were ſure my deſigne would find no favourable ſucceſſe; yet would it be much glory to ſpend my blood and my life▪ in endeavouring to reſtore that contentment unto you, which is ſo unfortunately raviſhed away. And therefore without thinking whether it be pertinent or no, I ought to fall upon it: for I know, that though the execution prove not proſperous, yet the deſigne at leaſt is honourable, ſince it aims at reſtoring unto you your companion▪ without whom I know you cannot enjoy any contentment in the world. Shepherd (ſaid Diana then) you force me to make a ſtrange confeſſion: I muſt needs ſay I do love Aſtrea, and were I out of hopes ever to ſee her again, I ſhould grieve extreamly; but withall, conſider Silvander, that I do not hate you, and perhaps if you and ſhe were weighed together, in the ſcales of my affection, you would out ballance her. In ſaying ſo Diana bluſh'd: and the Shepherd, even raviſhed to hear this declaration from the mouth of his Miſtreſſe, he was ready to caſt himſelf at her feet; yet being reſtrained by thoſe who obſerved their actions, he only ſaid thus unto her: My faireſt Miſtreſſe, you have made me the moſt happy man upon earth, and I would proſtrate my ſelf in all humility at your feet, if there were not ſo many witneſſes; but I proteſt and vow fair Diana, that I will behave my ſelf with the ſame reverence and reſpect towards you, as is due anto a Deity: my [Page] diſcretion and obedience ſhall make good my words, and ſhall be ſutable unto that harmonious language which you have ſpoke in my advantage. If ſo (replyed Diana) I would have you now give a teſtimony of it, and obey me, when I command you not to depart ſo raſhly, but firſt to conſider and conſult with thoſe that are moſt intereſſed in the quarrel; if Phocion ſhould raiſe forces in behalf of Aſtrea, I ſhould allow his juſt reſentment; But that Sylvander, whom it nothing concerns, ſhould be the firſt that will deliver her, I cannot eaſily conſent.

The Shepherd thought Dianas judgement to be good, and that there was no reaſon for him to follow Aſtrea, before he had communicated it unto Phocion, who was her Uncle, It was then reſolved upon to go unto his houſe, and by the way, they met with all thoſe Shepherds and Shepherdeſſes who accompanied Dorinde to Marcelles, and returned not in three or four days; After the firſt ſalutations, they were told of the accident that had hapned unto Aſtrea, and how Alexis followed her; at which they were all extreamly grieved: For ſuch was the beauty and goodneſs of Aſtrea, that never any ſaw her, but loved her beyond meaſure. But Licidas who was one amongſt them, addreſſed himſelf unto Phillis: I verily believe (ſaid he unto her in a low voice) that the Gods have puniſhed Aſtrea, for the wrong which ſhe did unto Celadon: For I beſeech you conſider it well, Was ever ſuch an accident as this heard of in this Country before now? It is to be preſumed, that it is a revenge abſolutely determined by Fate; for Diana or you might as well have been carried away as Aſtrea; and yet the judgement has only fallen upon her, as moſt culpable. Certainly (anſwered Phillis) the Gods did pardon my companion for the death of Celadon, when (for the Reſt of his ſoul) ſhe erected an empty Tomb for him; and moſt aſſuredly there is ſome other hidden myſterie in the action of theſe Thieves. With ſuch diſcourſe as this, they came unto the houſe of Phocion, whom they found in a melancholy ſtudy, walking before his houſe; and his wonder was not a little, when he ſaw ſo great a company coming towards him: At firſt he received them as kindly as poſſibly he could, compoſing his countenance ſo, as he did not ſhew the ſadneſs of his ſoul: But when he had ſaluted Diana and Phillis, and did not ſee Aſtrea, the firſt thing he asked, was, where ſhe was? None durſt give him any anſwer; But Sylvander conſidering that he muſt know of the accident, and that it was as good to acquaint him betimes with it, as to defer it any longer; he took him aſide, and deſiring Thamires to aſſiſt him in the office, he related unto him in few words, the diſaſter that had hapned unto Aſtrea. Phocion who loved her as his own ſoul, received this news like an arreſt of death; but Thamires and Sylvander gave him ſuch cordials, that at length he recollected himſelf, and like a man of a ſound and perfect judgment, did think it better to employ the time in remedy, then in complaints. And all ſetting themſelves to conſult what courſe was beſt, a way was no ſooner propounded, but they ſaw a Shepherd running towards them as faſt as he could; and when he was come within ken, his countenance ſeemed as if he had ſome meſſage of great concernment; which cauſed them all to keep ſilence, and look upon him: At laſt Licidas went to meet him, and returning, told Phocion, that this Shepherd was come to ſpeak with him. The aged Paſtor took him aſide, and asked the man his buſineſs, and what it was which brought him thither in that haſte. Unto which the Shepherd anſwered in theſe terms: Father (for ſo every one called him by reaſon of his age) I have been at the houſe of Adamas, our grand Druide, but not finding him at home, I thought you the fitteſt perſon in all our parts, to be acquainted with what I have ſeen, and the rather, becauſe it being neceſſary to look unto the preſervation of our Towns, Houſes, and Families, there is none better able to do it then you. I muſt acquaint you therefore, that as I was looking to my Flock near Mount Verdune, I ſaw all the Plain of Marcelles covered with armed men, who ſhot whole clouds of arrows into the Town, and have compaſſed it about on all ſides: I ſaw alſo that thoſe within the Town did come forth, and meeting with the enemy, made a long fight: I not having ſo much patience as to ſtay to ſee the difference ended, I thought it better for us to look to our ſelves, and therefore came as faſt as ever [Page] I could to acquaint you, in hopes that your prudence would direct us in the beſt courſe to prevent ſuch misfortunes as may fall upon us and our flocks.

Phocion was a little ſurprized at the report of this Shepherd, yet having heard ſome few dayes before that Polemas did ſecretly levy all the men he could, he preſently concluded that his rebellion was broken forth, and that he had made an attempt upon Marcelles; but being unwilling to declare his thoughts before the Shepherd, he diſmiſſed him with many thanks for his care, and a promiſe to be very vigilant in the prevention of any diſorders which ſeemed to menace them. The Shepherd being gone, Phocion turned towards Thamires and Silvander, and taking them by each hand, he began to walk in the middle, and to ſay thus unto them. I need not now ask who were the raviſhers of Aſtrea, nor where ſhe is detained: for this Shepherd hath aſſured me, that Marcelles is beſieged, and none being able to offer this violence but Polemas, I believe none but he would haue been the Authour of this wicked action committed againſt this young Shepherdeſſe; but this that hath hapned unto her is a warning to us all, and bids us look unto our ſelves: and in lieu of delivering Aſtrea, to recommend her unto the tuition of Tautates, and to ſeek out for ſome place of ſafety for our ſelves againſt this rebellious Cavalier.

This was the firſt diſcourſe of Phocion, unto which Thamires anſwered, that the report of this Shepherd was very probable, and ſuited with the ſuſpitions they had of Polemas; that he had heard ſome whiſpers of it in Marcelles, and therefore he thought it beſt to recommend all unto Heſus the Puiſſant God, and get into ſome ſtrong houſe or Caſtle, to defend themſelves againſt ſuch violences as might be offered unto their perſons.

Silvander began then to ſpeak: if we retire our ſelves into any place (ſaid he) it ought not to be unto any other place but Marcelles, where we may be ſerviceable unto Amaſis, and imploy our courages in defending her againſt the injuries of her enemies: For my part (ſaid Phocion) I think it to be the moſt honourable courſe we can take, and then if Aſtrea be in the hands of Polemas, I will ſummon him, either to reſtore her unto me, or to fight with me: though I have long diſcontinued the exerciſe of arms, I have not yet quite forgot the uſe of them; and though age have a little abated me of my younger ſtrength, yet will my courage ſupply that fault.

Thamires and Silvander admired the generoſity of Phocion; and Thamires, after he had a while conſidered upon the propoſition of getting into Marcelles, I beſeech you (ſaid he) if Polemas have compaſſed the Town round about, which way can we poſſibly enter? To that, Silvander anſwered, that it muſt be with arms in their hands, and by forcing their paſſage where it was conceived the enemy was weakeſt; but Phocion, ſhaking his head at it: This way (ſaid he) is very dangerous for ſuch as carry any women with them▪ and certainly Diana, Phillis, Celidea, Stella, and the reſt, will never leave us; I think I have a better expedient then that, and if I be not much miſtaken we may proceed this way: Firſt, it is impoſſible that Polemas ſhould ſhut up Marcelles toward [...] the Mountain; for that way unto the Town is inacceſſible, by reaſon of the ſteep and ſharp rocks upon which it is built, for he had need of wings to mount up by that way: Now I do know a little private back path, which is known unto very few, and which will lead us through the wood juſt under the Caſtle: from whence, after we have paſſed over Herdrick, which is a little river that runs between the Mountain and the Town, we will ſhoot in a letter, which being carried to the Grand Druide, will let him know the place where we are: and for the fear of failing, we will write ſeveral coppies, and ſhoot them all into the Town at the ends of arrows, ſo as ſo many, it is impoſſible but ſome one muſt come to his hand. Adamas will undoubtedly do all he can to ſavour our deſigne, and it is to be hoped he may open unto us the next gate, which is not above a hundred paces from the place where we ſhall be when we ſhoot in the arrows. At the worſt, if we ſhould chance to meet with any hinderance from the enemy, we may hold them in play whilſt the women enter, and Adamas will certainly ſend out a party to relieve us.

[Page] Silvander and Thamires thought this the beſt way that could be deviſed; and Silvander taking upon him the writing of the Letters, they all reſolved upon the execution of this courſe the next day towards night, and in the interim to aſſmble as many men as they could, and the Shepherds to provide themſelves of arms: after this they returned to the reſt of the company; and Silvander having acquainted the Shepherds, who had choſen him for their Captain, that the Rendezvous was to be the next day, they vowed not miſſe a minute of the time and place appointed, but would be ſure to come and bring with them all their friends, and ſo they retired.

Phocion did keep with him Silvander, Thamires, Hylas, Stella, Celidea, Licidas, Phillis, Diana, Cor [...]las, and ſome others, unto whom, by the advice of Silvander and Thamires, he ſecretly communicated the principal heads upon which they had concluded: all the day was very ſadly ſpent, for Phocions grief at the loſſe of Aſtrea, made all the reſt very melancholly, and their diſcourſe was nothing, but upon a thouſand vexatious dreams which Phocion had the night before: The next morning they all roſe as ſoon as Aurora began to dawn, and every one began to put themſelves in order. Amidſt all their ſorrows, it was ſome ſport to ſee Phocion ſcour up his old ruſty arms, that had not ſeen day of at leaſt an age before. Diana and Phillis were afflicted with a certain fear of ſome misfortunes that might befall Silvander and Licidas; but when they conſidered, that there was no other means to prevent their carrying away as Aſtrea was, they patienty ſubmitted themſelves unto ſuch neceſſity as could not be avoided. When the Sun was at the hight of the day, the Shepherds who were appointed to Rendezvous at the houſe of Phocion, began to flock from all ſides: before night they were all aſſembled, and the number of them appeared to be a hundred and fifty: This rejoyced Silvander, and particularly Phocion, who now thought himſelf able, if need were, to make a very conſiderable defence. And to defer the execution of their enterpriſe no longer, as ſoon as the Sun was ſet, they ſet forward; but not before they were ranked and filed into as good order, as if they were to fight a battel.

Silvander, who yielded unto Phocion both in age and experience, and ſubmitted all unto his conduct and command, did admire the order which this generous old man did bring this troop into: Firſt he divided them into three Companies; and himſelf marching in the head of fifty, he commanded the Shepherdeſſes to follow immediately after them: the other fifty he recommended unto Hylas and Licidas, and the laſt fifty he referred unto the charge of Silvander: and thus after they had recommended their flocks unto the tuition of Tautates, they ſet forward: had they been a little ſooner, they had ſeen ſome marks of the laſt aſſault which was given againſt Marcelles; for Polemas, whom night focced to ſound a retreat, ſaw his men and Engines burned, and received a ſhameful repulſe in the preſence of Alerantes, not being able ſo much as to keep Alexis, Silvia, and Aſtrea, who were his priſoners.

In a little ſpace, Phocion perceived the Caſtle of Marcelles, and though the place which they were to deſcend, was very rough and difficult; yet they got over the little river without any harm, for the night was not ſo dark but they could find the paths, and ſee where to tread and hold themſelves upon the rocks, over which they were to paſſe. As ſoon as they came to the place from whence Phocion ſaid they ſhould ſhoot in the Letters; Silvander, Hylas, Thamires, and Licidas, did take the bows which they had given unto Diana, Phillis, Stella, and Celidea, they tyeſt the Letters unto the piles of the arrows, and ſhot them into the Town ſeveral wayes. Each of them ſhot ſix times, for Silvander had prepared ſeveral coppies; ſo waiting for what heaven would do with them, they ſtood ſilently upon their guard, in a reſolution to defend themſelves, if any aſſaulted them. It was not long before they heard from Adamas, for one of the arrows lighting happily near the place where he was, a Souldier did carry it preſently to his corporal, who carried it preſently unto the Druide; and he had no ſooner opened the Letter, but two more were brought unto him, which were found in other places of the Town. He received them very gladly, as thinking it ſome advice [Page] for the ſecurity of the place: but when he ſaw it was Sylvander, who writ in the name of all the Shepherds of Lignon, his joys were extream, and as ſoon as he had opened the reſt of the papers which were tyed to the ends of arrows, he found theſe words in them all.

SYLVANDERS Letter unto ADAMAS.

MOſt Reverend Father, If you have any Indulgency towards the Shepherds of Lignon, and if their lives, which they come to ſacrifice for the Liberty of Amaſis, be a victime worthy of acceptance, we are here an hundred and fifty, who dedicate our lives unto her ſervice. Our Woods are now a Receptacle only for Owls, and we have left them, to ſeek for Sanctuary in this Town, if your favour will give us admittance, Phocion, (whoſe blood boyls in his veins, as if he were but twenty years of age) has the Conduct of us, who do all vow our fidelity in particular, and will be ready to be employed upon all occaſions whatſoever. We beſeech you to advertiſe us of your reſolution, who ſtay here in the ſame place from whence we ſent this Lettes, which is under the Caſtle in a Meadow that parts Herdicke from the Rocks of Marcelles,

The Druide preſently found out the ingenuity of Sylvander, and knew that ſo many Letters to one purpoſe, was only for fear left any ſhould miſcarry: ſo as deſiring to ſend them all ſpeedy relief, he went unto the Nymph as faſt as poſſibly he could, to communicate the Letter unto the Nymph, and found her preparing her ſelf to go and viſit Alexis, but he diverted her, ſo as ſhe deferred her viſit until the next morning. Amaſis thought it very fit to receive Phocion, and told Adamas, that if he wanted any Forces, he ſhould acquaint Prince Godomar with his deſires, which he did; and the Prince hearing that Phocion was there, and enquiring who he, and all that came with him were, he was very glad of his coming, and would go himſelf to bring them into the Town. Moſt of the Souldiers were either wounded, or weary with fighting; but as ſoon as ever they heard of Phocions deſigne, they offered to obey the Prince in whatſoever he would pleaſe to command them. Godomar mounted Alcander with thoſe that followed the Queen Argira, and were left with the Princeſs Roſanira, only to diſcover whether there was any Treaſon in the deſigne: But it being told him that Polemas was quite retired, and that there appeared no enemy near the Town, he commanded Alcander to go unto the place where Phocion was, and Guad him and his company into the Town: Alcander obeyed the Princes order, and turning a little upon the left hand, he went down as far as the little River; he had not gone forty paces, but he eſpied the Troop which he was to Guard; and left he ſhould give them too terrible an Alarm, he ſent two Horſemen to advertiſe Phocion of his coming: The good old man no ſooner heard that Alcander was come to guard them, but he acquainted Hylas, Licidas, and Sylvander, and afterwards all together went to meet him. Alcander alighted to ſalute Phocion, and preſently taking horſe again, he commanded half of his Troop to march towards the Town; then deſiring Phocion to follow, he would bring up the Arrear himſelf with the other half. Thus they came to the Town; Adamas ſtayed at the Gate in expectation of them; and the one half of Alcanders Troop being entred, Phocion appeared, whom the Druide received with cordial careſſes. But ſince al this could not be done ſo ſecretly, and with ſo little noiſe, but Polemas muſt needs be advertiſed of it: Phocion was no ſooner entred with the ſhepherdeſſes & that fifty which he conducted, but they heard Alcander engaged with the enemy. Sylvander faced about with his company, and went immediately to relieve the Cavalier: Alcidon at the ſame time ſallyed out with two hundred Archers; Phocion, do what Adamas could, would [Page] needs do the like: but all this needed not, for the noiſe immediately ceaſed, becauſe Alcander had taken Peledontes priſoner, and thoſe that followed him, who were not above thirty Horſe, fled all away, when they ſaw the inequality of the number. Thus Alcander, Sylvander, Phocion, Alcidon, and the reſt, all entred into the Town, very proud of their new conqueſt, in taking Peledontes priſoner: for he being one of Polemas his principal privie Counſellors, they hoped to ſcrue much of the enemies deſigns out of him: Adamas obtained of Phocion, that Diana and Phillis might lodge at his houſe with Leonide, but he would not tell him that Alexis and Aſtrea were there already: Licidas, who knew what credit he had with Clindor, he carried thither Phocion, Sylvander, Thamires, Hylas, Corilus, Stella, Celidea, and ſome others; the reſt of the Shepherds were put under ſeveral Captains and Officers, and had their Quarters aſſigned them.

After the Druide had ſeen the Gates of the Town ſhut, he carried away his new gueſts; and Alcander committed Pelidontes to a place of ſecurity, intending to preſent him unto the Nymph in the morning. Diana and Phillis having now nothing in their minds but the loſs of their companion, they asked Adamas by the way. whether he heard any thing of Alexis and Astrea: To which he anſwered in ſo faint a manner, as made them think he knew nothing that was good concerning them: He told them, that the laſt news he heard of them was, that they were priſoners unto Polimas, and that they received very harſh entertainment from him. At this diſcourſe Phillis and Diana could not refrain from Tears, and coming to his houſe, he carried them into a very fair chamber, neither Leonide nor Aſtrea knowing of their arrival: After this, calling for his Neece to keep them company, he met her, and charged her not to tell thoſe Shepherdeſſes that Aſtrea and Alexis were there: Leonide who knew her Uncles deſign, only winked at him; for at the ſame inſtant the Shepherdeſs came upon her with a thouſand expreſſions of great affection. Whilſt they were in the midſt of their mutual careſſes, the Druide left them, with a promiſe of returning preſently again, and he went unto the chamber of Alexis, where Aſtrea was; for ſay what the Chyrurgions would, Celadon would not ſuffer Aſtrea to part from him: And after he had been a while with them, he told them of the arrival of Phocion, Sylvander, Hylas, Licidas, Thamires, and at laſt, of Diana, Phillis, and other Shepherdeſſes of Forreſt: at which Alexis ſeemed to be very glad, but eſpecially Aſtrea, who hearing that Diana and Phillis were in the houſe of Adamas, beſeeched her Miſtris to let her go and bid them welcome. Alexis conſented, upon condition ſhe would bring them into her chamber; and though Adamas was at firſt againſt it, by reaſon of his wounds, yet at laſt he conſented▪ upon condition alſo they ſhould ſtay but a while, and that they ſhould be in another chamber, ſince it was not handſome they ſhould ſee the dreſſing of his wounds which he received in the fight. Celadan obeyed whatſoever Adamas deſired, and then the Druide taking Aſtrea by the hand, he carried her to the chamber door where her companions were; and deſiring her not to enter until a while after him, as ſoon as he was come to Diana, You ſhall ſee here one (ſaid he unto her) whom you little expected to meet, and one who perhaps you will love when you know her: Upon this Aſtrea entred, and ſuch a ſudden ſurpriſal did ſo amuze them, that they could hardly ſalute each other. At laſt, being a little recollected, they began to embrace each other ſo affectionately, and ſo long that they were ready to ſtifle themſelves.

Their careſſes had continued longer, if Adamas had not interrupted them, who taking them by their hands, Nay (ſaid he unto them) this is not all; I will alſo conduct you unto the chamber of Alexis, upon condition you will not ſtay with her too long, becauſe of ſome wounds which ſhe hath received, which cauſeth her to keep in bed; and that Aſtrea may have more time to tell you all their adventures, I will let her lie in your chamber.

Then he carried Diana and Phillis unto the chamber where Alexis was; and though ſhe was full of pain, eſpecially by reaſon of a wound which ſhe received in her ſhoulder, yet ſhe received them with ſuch an aſpect, as teſtified abundance of joy to ſee them. Their diſcourſe was not long, for it was late, and their ſtay [Page] might have been prejudicial to the health of Celadon; therefore Leonide conducting them into their chamber, they all ſate down upon the bed, where Aſtrea made a punctual relation of every paſſage that had hapned unto her ſince the time of her taking away.

On the other ſide, Phocion, Licidas, and the reſt, whom Clindor entertained, all heard what brave exploits Alexis had done in the habit of Aſtrea: and Phocion was ſo joyed to hear of his Neeces deliverance, that had it not been very late, and unſeaſonable to trouble Adamas at that time of the night, he would have gone to ſee her that very hour.

Amaſis had already viſited almoſt all thoſe who were wounded in the laſt aſſault; and amongſt all the diſcontents which ſhe received at the inſolency of Polemas, it was no ſmall conſolation unto her, to conſider how many brave men were armed in her defence. But Polemas was almoſt ſtark mad, as well at the loſs which he had received in the two aſſaults, as at the taking of Pelidontes; being come into his chamber, and unwilling that any ſhould be witneſſes of his deſpair; as ſoon as he ſaw himſelf alone, he threw his hat upon the Table, ſcratched his head with one hand, and thumped his breaſt with the other, then walked up and down the room a great pace; at laſt he ſtopped upon a ſudden, and ſtamped upon the floor with his foot. Will ye alwaies be my enemies, Oh ye Gods! who diſpoſe of Scepters and Crowns (ſaid he) Is my ambition to have ſome Empiredome over the ſpirit of that Beauty ſo great a crime, that Love, and the perfections of Galathea will never pardon it? Though there be a Law which forbids what I have done, and renders my Arms unjuſt; yet, Am I the firſt that has violated that Law, Or, whom you have let go unpuniſhed? Then beginning to walk again: But (ſaid he) this Nymph does not love me, Lindamore is Lord of her thoughts, as ſhe is Lady of his liberty: Moſt of my men are murdred, burned, and defeated, Gondebaut perhaps will not aſſiſt me, Alexis is eſcaped, Pelidontes is priſoner, Oh moſt cruel Gods! Oh miſerable Polemas! The moſt miſerable of all men living! What canſt thou do to unravel thy ſelf out of this labyrinth of confuſion? How wilt thou compoſe into order this Chaos of thy affairs? Upon this, caſting himſelf upon his bed, he called for him that waited in his chamber, and commanded him to go for Ligonias; who as ſoon as he entred, was aſtoniſhed to ſee Polemas in that poſture wherein he found him; one leg lay a croſs over one knee, one hand upon his breſt, and the other with a handkerchief wiping his eyes, which the ſire of his love and anger together had made extreamly red; and becauſe he ſpoke not a word unto Ligonias, but lay ſadly in this manner a long while; Sir (ſaid Ligonias unto him) perhaps you have a diſpoſition to take ſome reſt. So I have (ſaid he, and turned towards him) I do ſeek for reſt, and would buy it at the price of my blood: but I fear it is impoſſible for me to find it, unleſs in my grave. Upon this Polemas fetched a profound ſigh, and Ligonias with a cold countenance ſaid thus unto him.

The truth is Sir, you have to do with ſtronger enemies then ever you imagined to meet with: Is it not a miracle that a Princeſs whom we thought deſtitute of all humane aſſiſtance, ſhould in ſo ſhort a time have her Town ſo full of valiant men, as it is impoſſible to take it without the favour of ſome Forrain help? Ah Ligonias (ſaid Polemas) 'Tis true indeed, I have very potent enemies; but thoſe whom I moſt fear, are the Gods, and Galathea. I am not ſo well read in the book of Fate (anſwered Ligonias) as to know what deſtiny the Gods have ordained you, but the very truth is, Galathea has no great cauſe to love you; for can you think to oblige her, by doing the very ſame things that are proper to make a mortal enemy? Does ſlaves uſe to hold their Lords in captivity? Why, you do kill her people, ſtrike at her, and are as careleſs in obſerving her Laws as any Satyre: I muſt confeſs (and I beſeech you pardon the freedom of my language) that this deſigne has too geat a tincture of tyrannie; and your cauſe having no pillars of Juſtice to underprop it, you had need be very careful that it fall not upon your head, and ruine you. Upon this Ligonias held his peace, and Polemas ſpoke. I ſhould think (ſaid he) that I have greatly offended the Gods, if the greateſt of them all had not connfeſſed me to uſe theſe violences againſt Amaſis: Love is the only Author of [Page] all theſe diſorders▪ and ſince a god cannot ſin, the actions which he hath done in me, cannot without blaſphemy be called crimes: and therefore I hope they will regard my paſſion, and pity my ſufferings for Galathea, ſince certainly they would never adorn her with ſo many perfections, unleſſe they had deſired ſhe ſhould be adored.

As concerning the ſtrength of Amaſis, I have reſolved upon your departure tomorrow with Alerantes, to conjure and ſolicite Gondebaut about haſting away thoſe Auxiliaries which he hath promiſed: for if they come in time, it is impoſſible ſhe ſhould reſiſt us; perhaps we ſhall do ſomething in the mean time, for if my deſigne with Meronthes hit handſomly, doubtleſs before your return I ſhall be maſter of the place, and of Galathea alſo: Nothing goes ſo near my heart as the taking of Peledontes, and certainly it had been better if he had been leſs valiant and more prudent; for he was much to blame in fighting with the enemy, when I ſent him only to diſcover, eſpecially having not above thirty or fourty horſe, and the enemy doubtleſs ſix times the number. Perhaps (ſaid Ligonias) he was conſtrained to fight; and being dark, may be he went nearer then he determined, and was firſt aſſaulted, ſo as he cou'd do no leſſe then defend himſelf. Well (replied Polemas) I will think upon his deliverance; in the interim make your ſelf ready, for I go preſently about your diſpatch: upon this Polemas went into his cloſet and began to write.

In the mean time Amaſis was in her chamber with Godomar, Damon, Alcidon, and almoſt all the Nymphs and Ladies that were then in Marcelles: and becauſe it was yet too ſoon to go to bed, the Nymph commanded Silvia to relate the particulars of her impriſonment, and how ſhe liked the entertainment of Polemas. The young Nymphs interceded to excuſe her, becauſe they thought ſhe could not make a right relation, without interweaving the cauſes of her complaint againſt Ligdamon. But being obliged to obey the command of Amaſis, and ſolicited by Godomar ſhe made a relation of it unto them, yet with ſo much diſcretion as ſhe did not at all touch upon her relation to Ligdamon: but that Cavalier by chance coming in to do his reverence unto her, for he had not yet ſeen her ſince the recovery of her liberty, ſhe changed colour two or three times, and afterwards retired her ſelf into another room, none taking any notice of her but Leonide: for the eyes of all the company were wholly upon Ligdamon, whoſe handſome grace, and becoming carriage, did whereſoever he came beget eſteem and admiration. At laſt Amaſis intending to preſent him her ſelf unto Silvia, ſhe roſe up and took the Cavalier by the hand; but when ſhe turned about to look for Silvia, and ſaw her not, ſhe was extreamly aſtoniſhed: the turning to Leonide, what have you done with your companion (ſaid ſhe and ſmiled) have you impriſoned her again? I do not think Madam (anſwered Leonide) that ſhe is far from hence: go then (replied Amaſis) and command her from me to return. Leonide went into the next chamber, where finding Silvia ſitting in a ſad and ſerious ſtudy: how now? (ſaid ſhe unto her) does your heart fail you? Truly (anſwered ſhe, and bluſhed for anger) my heart is vexed to ſee Ligdamon live, after ſo many teſtimonies of his infidelity. There is ſomething (ſaid Leonide) which I do not underſtand: but ſince my Lady asks for you, let us go in, and in the mean time conſider, that you ought not to condemn before you hear: I hear (replied Silvia) ah ſiſter I will never neither ſee nor hear him again by my good will; and I beſeech Amaſis to pardon me, if I do not obey her command as long as he is in the room, for I cannot endure the very ſight of the Traytor: Leonide knowing that ſhe had a ſpirit that was not eaſily bended, did not importune her any longer, but returned into the chamber, and told Amaſis in a low voice, that Ligdamon could not hear, how angry her companion was: at which, Amaſis knowing how much Silvia was obliged unto that Cavalier, ſhe could not chuſe but wonder; yet not being willing to enquire any further then; well (ſaid ſhe) I will for this time content her melancholy humour. Madam (ſaid Ligdamon) perhaps Leonide has failed in her commiſſion, or elſe may be ſhe is troubled at ſomething in which I may ſatisfie her; I beſeech you give me leave to go and ſee what it is: It may be, ſaid Amaſis, ſhe may receive a remedy from him that hurt her, hurt [Page] her (replied Ligdamon) what hurt have I done unto Silvia, unleſſe you give that phraſe unto the love I bear unto her: I know not (anſwered Leonide) but I am moſt certain, that your preſence at this time cannot cure her. Ligdamon being aſtoniſhed at this alteration in Silvia, and a little offended at her action, if this be an effect of my abſence, I will ſuffer it as long as her cruelty is pleaſed to appoint, and to begin my ſubmiſſion to her will, ſhe ſhall not now be offended at the ſight of him whom ſhe cannot endure: upon this he retired, but being impatient to know the cauſe of Silvias diſcontent, he turned back again, and finding the door of the cloſet which belonged to the chamber open, he got as near as he could behind the hangings, ſuppoſing they would be talking of his affairs. And indeed Amaſis ſending again for Silvia, ſhe entred, and being importuned by Godomar to tell the cauſe of that hatred which ſhe ſeemed to bear unto Ligdamon, ſhe told them, yet not without a hundred bluſhes, all that Lidias whom ſhe miſtook for Ligdamon, had done in favour of Amerina; ſhe ſpoke of her jealouſie in ſuch pritty pleaſant manner as made them all to laugh, ſhe related unto them the combate which was in her ſoul, when ſhe ſaw him carried away priſoner: ſhe told them how glad ſhe was to ſee her ſelf in ſome ſort revenged, by the danger unto which he was expoſed: and afterwards her extream compaſſion when ſhe conſidered him to be the ſame that choſe death rather then be falſe in his love; but (ſaid ſhe and continued) he would never take any notice of me, till now he ſees me out of all danger; and now he would come and fawn upon me, but I am reſolved not to ſee him, ſo ſave him the labour of ſpeaking, and me of hearing.

Amaſis, Godomar, and Galathea, would all have ſpoken, when Ligdamon lifting up the hanging, and throwing himſelf at the feet of Silvia before any body perceived him: Madam (ſaid he) if this ſentence of death which you have pronounced againſt my happineſs, be only to make me feel your rigour, and ſo make me the moſt wretched man alive, I will not enquire whether it be juſt or no, for it is enough if you bid me die, to make me do it; but if it be to puniſh me for a crime whereof you conceive me guilty, I am confident my innocence will move you to revoke your ſentence: ſhould I ſeek for any arguments to juſtifie my ſelf, perhaps you would ſuſpect the real truth of them, ſince you are ſo prepoſſeſſed with an opinion that I have ſinned againſt you. But if it would pleaſe this fair Nymph to ſpeak in my favour, ſaid he, and pointed at Galathea, you will find that if I be guilty, it is only in your imagination. Though ſhe do not (ſaid Amaſis) yet I can tell you Silvia, that if you did ſee Ligdamon when you were with Polemas, there is two Ligdamons. That is it, replied Silvia, whereof I accuſe him. I can aſſure you (ſaid Galathea) he never left me all the while you were in the priſon of Polemas, but perhaps your mind was then much troubled, and you fancied only that you ſaw him: My mind indeed was much troubled (anſwered Silvia) yet my eyes were not ſo bad but I could ſee ſuch objects as preſented themſelves before me; you will find Silvia (ſaid Galathea) that he whom you ſaw was Lidias, and that the woman whom he talked with, was Amerina or Melander. Doubtleſs it was (ſaid Godomar) and now I do not wonder that Amerina ſhould heretofore take Ligdamon for Lidias, ſince this Nymph who brags that ſhe can ſee ſo well, has taken Lidias for Ligdamon. Then Amaſis told her how much ſhe was obliged unto the love and courage of that Cavalier, and how he leaped down the walls to relieve her. And Silvia who indeed did ſee two Cavaliers in the ditch, ſhe no ſooner knew that Ligdamon was one of them, but ſhe lov'd him more, and began to have a better opinion of his fidelity then ever.

On the other ſide. Polemas finiſhed his Letter; and becauſe the confidence he had in Ligonias would not let him hide any ſecret from him, he ſent for him into his cloſet; and being both there alone togetherr, he made him ſuch extraordinary Carreſſes, as Ligonias ſtood as if he were charmed: at laſt Polemas ſhewed him the Letter which he had written, which Ligonias opening, he found thus indited.

[Page]

POLEMAS his Letter unto GONDEBAUT King of the Burgundians.

SIR,

THis Cavalier whom I have diſpatched unto you, and who is moſt entirely faithful, will acquaint you with the miſerable ſtate of my affairs, and what neceſſity I have of thoſe Auxiliaries which you hav promiſed unto me: I have already made two attempts upon the Town with bad ſucceſs: for having the valour of Prince Godomar to grapple with, it is impoſſible but I muſt be ruin'd, unleſs your Authority do take from me the obſtacle of ſo ſo puiſſant an enemy. Were not your Majeſty concerned in my ruine, I ſhould not be ſo zealous to avoid it as I am: But ſince you do loſe a Crown by my defeat, me-thinks you ſhould defend me for your own Intereſt as well as mine. Ambition, that glorious Paſſion, which reigns in the hearts of the higheſt, ſhould not (me-thinks) be aſleep in you, ſince the authority of your Arms and Actions will make that ſeem juſt in you, which would be condemned as Tyrannical in another. Furthermore Amaſis has openly declared her ſelf againſt you, and mocks at your power, as if you had not any power to do her any harm. Her offence, which is no leſs a ſin then blaſphemy, (for Kings are Gods upon earth) does deſerve no leſs a puniſhment then the anger of your Majeſty, which ſhe will feel by the effects of that Army which I ask, and by which I ſhall hold a Scepter of you, which being taken out of the hands of a woman, will be better accompanied with a Lance then a Diſtaff.

Ligonias having read this Letter, he lapped it up, and ſealed it with the Arms of Polemas; and promiſing to make all the haſte that poſſibly he could, he retired, and prepared himſelf, to depart with Alerantes betimes in the morning.

On the other ſide, Amaſis deſiring to beſtow ſome time upon her particular affairs, though the night was well ſpent, ſhe retired into her cloſet with Godomar, Adamas, Damon, and Alcidon; and having propounded her reſolution of ſending unto Lindamore▪ left ſome misfortune ſhould have befallen Fleurial; the Prince, and all the reſt approved of her deſigne, and told her, that the ſooner it was put in execution, the better it was for her: But one thing did put them unto a little ſtand, which was, whom to employ in the buſineſs: for whomſoever it was, he was to run the danger of paſſing through the Army of Polemas: but Godomar deſired her not to trouble her ſelf about that, but to diſpatch her Letter as ſoon as ſhe could, for he would help her to a Cavalier which doubtleſs would undertake it. As ſoon as Amaſis had finiſhed her Letter, the Prince ſent for Philiander, who was a very ſubtle Cavalier, one of an excellent wit and ſpirit, and one that knew Lindamore in the Army of Clidemans, from whom he was returned only ſince the death of that young Prince: Unto him Godomar communicated the intention of the Nymph, and Philiander deſiring nothing more then to do her ſome conſiderable ſervice, prepared himſelf for the execution of her commands; the firſt thing he did, was, was, to change his clothes, and to put on the habit of a Country fellow; and having the Letter of Amaſis, he hid it under a piece of leather, which he fixed under the ſoals of his ſhooe with a hundred hobnails; and being to be let down the wall into the ditch by ropes, he ſo daubed his face and hands with dirt, and afterwards rubbed them with an herb which gave a yellow colour, he ſo changed his complexion and countenance, that none living could know him in that diſguiſe. As ſoon as ever he was over the ditch, he began to walk as if both his legs [Page] were broken, and the night being already far ſpent, and the affairs of Polemas were in great diſorder, as well by reaſon of his repulſe, as the taking of Pelidontes, it was long before any of the Army took any notice of him: At laſt, he was met by ten or twelve Souldiers very well mounted, whom Polemas had ſent out to ſcout, leſt he ſhould be ſurpriſed by a Salley: As ſoon as ever they ſaw him, they ſet him behind one on horſeback, and intended to carry him unto Polemas. As ſoon as the crafty Philiander ſaw himſelf in this condition, By th' Faith of my body (ſaid he) I thank you with all my heart; for, but for your kindneſs to me, I could not have gotten thither in two days: as he ſaid ſo, he leaned firſt on one ſide, and then on another, as if he had never been on horſeback before: he was ſo very troubleſome unto him that carried him, that after he had bid him hold faſt a hundred times, and ſeeing that he could not, he let him ſlide off the horſe, to the ground, on which he fell all along, as if he had been dead. What ſhould we do with this ſilly fellow (ſaid he that let him fall) who takes that for a curteſie which were enough to affright any other to death, that is not as innocent as himſelf? No matter (anſwered one of his companions) ſince we have taken him, we muſt carry him; and though he be never ſo innocent, we ſhould be to blame, and perhaps ſuſpected of treaſon, if we do not carry him to Polemas Upon this, three of the company alighted, and lifted up Phliiander behind a fourth; then taking two gyrths, they tied the legs under the belly of the Horſe with one, and tied his arms about him behind whom he rid, with the other.

He was no ſonner brought before Polemas, but ſeeing many velvet chairs in the chamber, he claps him down upon one, and counterfeiting himſelf full of pain and wearineſs, This great ill favoured beaſt (ſaid he in a doleful tone) has jogged all my bones in pieces, but they have made me amends in bringing me amongſt ſo many fine ſoft chairs; by my ſay, would all our oxen could go as faſt (ſaid he, and dried his eyes upon his ſleeve, and looked upon Polemas with an innocent ſimple look) for if they could, our lond would be ſooner tilled, and ſave us mickle labour. Polemas, as little cauſe as he had to laugh, yet could not forbear, when he ſaw how innocently the man did ſit him down in the chair, and being moved to pity him, commanded that none ſhould do him any harm; but deſiring to make himſelf a little merry with him, he called for a candle, and went neerer unto him, then looking a while upon him, he asked from whence he came? From whence do I come? ſaid Philiander, why, I came from Marcelles, where I have been put to more pain in two days, then ever I was in all my life; for they tied a ſword to my ſide, and made me hold a long piece of iron in my hand, that was fuller of nails then my ſhooes. Well, well (ſaid Polemas) what news in Marcelles: I know not (anſwered he) but as long as I was there, it ſtood in the ſame place it was wont to do. I mean (ſaid Polemas) what are they doing there, and how ſquares go? For ought I ſaw (ſaid Philiander) they do there as they do here; every one goes upon their legs. But (ſaid Polemas, and laughed heartily) how did you get out? I'll tell you all I know (anſwered the Peſant) they put me into a little round houſe, that ſtands amongſt many ſtones that are on the walls, and are made like windows; and he that put me there, bade me look about me on every ſide, and if I ſaw any coming, that I ſhould make a ſigne to him; when he was gone, and left me there with that great piece of iron in my hand, I fell faſt aſleep: Now I know not what they did after, nor how I got out of the place where they put me; but as ſoon as ever I waked, I found my ſelf under the walls, with my legs, and my arms, and all my body bruiſed to pieces, pox on't, I feel it yet: Philiander did act all theſe things ſo to the life, ſomtimes rowling up the brims of an old hat that he wore, ſomtimes putting his fingers into a hole that was in it, and ſtill keeping his chair, as if he had taken eternal poſſeſſion of it, that Polemas ſeeing and obſerving all this, he broke out into ſuch extremity of laughter, that he made all about him do the like. And knowing what belonged unto war, he very well underſtood all that Philiander ſaid, he eaſily knew that the round houſe whereof he ſpoke was a Tower, and that the windows were Battlements, and that he being placed there as a Sentinel, they threw him over the walls when they found him aſleep.

[Page]That which moſt helped Polemas to deceive himſelf was his knowledge that there was abundance of Peſants went at firſt into Marcelles, many of which being very ſilly and ignorant in ſuch matters, might be well capable of ſuch miſtakes. This made him more apt to pity the ſillineſſe of this ſimple fellow; ſo as cauſing a piece of money to be given unto him, he fell upon ſerious thoughts, and commanded they ſhould let him go. Philiander was very glad to ſee his counterfeiting thrive ſo well, made two or three leggs according to the countrey mode, and went unto the next Town, where he furniſhed himſelf with all things requiſite for his journey. All this while Fleurial was making all the haſt he could, for he travelled both night and day without any ſleep: by fortune, when he was beyond Moulins, he met many Souldiers upon the way, and enquiring of one whether they went, he underſtood they came from the Army of Childerick, where they had born Arms under the commands of Lindamor, and that now they were returning into the countrey of the Sebuſtans, the place of their birth. As ſoon as ever Fleurial heard the name of Lindamor, he was joyed at heart, and hoped for good ſucceſſe in his journey; and enquiring further where that Cavalier was; he was anſwered that he would be at Moulins within two dayes: This anſwer was good news to Fleurial, and made him turn back to Moulins where Lindamor came according to appointment. As ſoon as ever he ſaw Fleurial he asked him the cauſe of his voyage: and Fleurial preſenting unto him the Letters from Amaſis and Galathea; Sir, ſaid he, I believe theſe papers will give you a better accompt then I can: Lindamor took them, and retiring apart, he opened that from Amaſis, and found it thus written.

The Letter of AMASIS unto LINDAMOR.

YOu have not received any Letters from me ſince the death of Clidemant, and yet this ſhall contain no expreſsions of my ſorrows for it, but only tell you that Polemas has beſieged me in Marcelles, where I am like to ſee the loſs of my ſon, ſeconded with the loſs of my ſtate: Lindamor is now all the hopes I have in my affections, he need not now any longer ſhew his valour in a ſtrange countrey, ſince he has a more glorious occaſion for it in his own: I conjure you therefore by the tears and ſighs I ſpend in the memory of Clidemant to come hither, and give liberty to a Princeſs, who is deprived of it by a rebellious Subject.

O thou moſt impious wretch (ſaid Lindamor) if heaven do not puniſh thee, it declares it ſelf a ſider with the unjuſt. Upon this opening Galatheas Letter he found theſe words.

GALATHEAS Letter unto LINDAMOR.

THough the Letter of Amaſis ſhould not have any power over you, and though I were deprived fo the command which once I had upon your will, yet I am confident that the delight you take in glorious actions will invite you to relieve us. Polemas will needs triumph over Galathea, without any other pretence or title, but the injuſtice of his Arms: and whilſt Lindamor is ſtriving to crown himſelf with Laurels, he is ſtriving to raviſh from him thoſe Mirtles, wherewith love would recompence his fidelity: Iudge then, my Cavalier, whether any puniſhment can equal his crime, or any intereſt more conſiderable unto you, [Page] then that of your own good. Come therefore and viſit Polemas and Galathea both, to keep him from living, and me from dying: both will be equally advantageous unto you, ſince in ruining an enemy you will ſave a lover, who will no ſooner be out of hopes of your relief, but will have recourſe unto ſword or poiſon, as thinking them not ſo bad as the preſence of Polemas, in the diſobedience of Lindamor. Think therefore upon what I ſay: Come, and all the gods be with you.

Lindamor read this Letter twice over, and thinking a while upon it; Yes, yes, faireſt Galathea (ſaid he and pulling his hat over his eyes) I will come through fire and blood to pull down the arrogance of that raſh man: Upon this he preſently ſent for two or three of thoſe in whom he had greateſt confidence, and communicating the Letter of Amaſis unto them, it was concluded that Lindamor, who had appointed all his troops to meet a Rendezvous, to pay and diſmiſſe them off, ſhould now keep them on foot for the ſervice of the Nymph.

The Cavalier thought this to be the beſt expedient he could chuſe: ſo as having paid all his Souldiers, and asked them whether they would continue ſtill under his command, there was not one who thought it not an honour to ſerve him: And therefore he reſolved to go and relieve Amaſis with all poſſible haſte, and vowed not to take any reſt until he had done that Princeſs ſome ſervice worthy of his valour; but his had been very ſmall if it did not ſurpaſſe that of Polemas all that while, and particularly that night wherein Peledontes was taken: for though he lay upon the bed with endeavour to ſleey, yet could he not reconcile his eyes, and before he could compoſe the ingratitude of his mind, the night was gone.

The Moon ſhined very clear, and Aſtrea waking in the middle of the night, and having no mind to ſleep again, ſhe roſe out of her bed and went to the window: as ſoon as ſhe was there ſhe began to ſtudy a little, at laſt upon a ſudden ſhe ſaid, as this night will not be long, ſo mine methinks ought not to be eternal, and then I ſhould receive ſome conſolation. But, what a deſperate condition is mine? for my ſun once ſet will never riſe again: afterwards fetching a moſt profound ſigh. Ah Celadon (ſaid ſhe) is it a ſigne of love or hatred, that I ſhould ſuffer my ſelf to live ſo long after I have been the cauſe of thy death? Alas I am afraid it is a teſtimony of hatred in thee, ſince thou doſt now want the company of her in the Elizian fields, whom thou didſt court in this world with ſo much paſſion; but alſo it is an argument of thy love, ſince thou doſt ſtill ſuffer her to love thee, and in her tears to waſh away that crime which ſhe committed againſt thy fidelity: upon this, tears flowing in great abundance down her cheeks, and dropping upon the window where ſhe leaned: Alas poor tears (ſaid ſhe) why do you not the ſame unto me that Lignon did unto my dear Shepherd, and drown'd me; but I know the cauſe, you are dryed up too ſoon by the fire of my love.

With ſuch thoughts as theſe ſhe entertained the memory of her Shepherd, and the window where ſhe was, being towards the place where Polemas gave the laſt aſſault upon the Town, the good office which Semires had done her came alſo into her mind: Poor Semires (ſaid ſhe) thy death has well repaired the wrong which formerly thou didſt againſt me; and preſently remembring the laſt words he uttered: but why (ſaid ſhe) didſt thou pray heaven to keep Aſtrea for her happy Celadon? Didſt thou imagine that Shepherd to be ſtill alive, ſince I am ſo? thou hadſt indeed ſome reaſon for thy thought, ſince the ſoul of Celadon does ſtill live in me, or waſt thou deceived by the reſemblance of Alexis, and took her for him? If thou wert, I would to heaven I could be ſo miſtaken alſo, and that I were not ſo ſure Alexis as the daughter of Adamas, as I have ſome kind of ſuſpition that Alexis may be Celadon? But alas, alas, I know too well that Celadon is dead; and I have not ſo much forgotten his favour unto me, but I well remember how I ſaw his Ghoſt. Why then Simires, who in this I muſt call cruel, ſhouldſt thou offer to torment me thus? May heaven (didſt thou ſay) preſerve Aſtrea for [Page] her happy Celadon. If none be happy till after death, and if Celadon be happy, then it follows he is dead, and how can I be happy then unleſs I be dead as well as he? Perhaps, and I believe this is thy meaning, the heart of Celadoa and mine being but one and the ſame, thou prayeſt heaven I may preſerve it intirely for him, and not ſuffer my ſoul to take the impreſſion of any other object but his: If this be thy requeſt Semires, aſſure thy ſelf it is granted, and heaven it ſelf cannot warm me with any other flame. But pardon me, valiant Alexis, for pleaſing my ſelf in theſe vain fancies, and for remembring the name of this Shepherd ſo much as in ſome ſort to forget my duty to you: I have but only two contentments in thr whole world, and they are to think upon him and ſee you. Aſtrea entertained her ſelf long with theſe thoughts, after which, ſeeing the night was far ſpent, and knowing by her eyes that ſhe wanted ſleep, ſhe went back unto her companions, where inſenſibly ſhe fell aſleep, and waked not until the rayes of the Sun (jealous of thoſe delights which the God of Love did take, in being ſhut up with the faireſt eyes in the world) die enter into the chamber to let him out.

Hylas, on the other ſide, whom it ſeems love would begin to puniſh for his former levity, he wondered that a Summers day ſhould be ſeconded with ſo long a night, and as if his bed were ſtuck with thorns he could not find any reſt in it: He turned himſelf from ſide to ſide a hundred times, and ſtill found himſelf ſo out of order, that he that none ſo much tormented as he, being out of all hopes of any ſleep; how comes it to paſſe (ſaid he to himſelf) that I ſhould now ſigh all night long at ſuch objects as I was wont to laugh at all the day? What Demen is it that preſents Stella unto my fancy more amiable then ever ſhe was? muſt her charms be ſo powerful as to break my ſleep? Well, well, Stella (ſaid he and turned himſelf with a ſmile full of diſdain and anger) though you never committed any other crime but this, in hindering me from my reſt, it is enough to make me love you no longer: afterwards imagining that he talked unto her, from henceforward Stella (ſaid he and flung his arms out of bed) provide your ſelf of another ſervant: for my part, it ſhall go hard but I will find out of Miſtreſſe that will let me ſleep: had I waked ſo long for every one of thoſe whom I have loved as I have for you, I had long ſince loſt my wits, and have put Prince Godomar to the pains of driving a nail for me, as he has for Adraſtes and Roſilion; but thanks be to the gods I have hitherto kept my wits in my head, and till now all the women I ever loved never broke me of a quarter of and hours ſleep. And Stella, can you pretend to have more authority over me, then all thoſe beauties had? but believe it, as I left all them for you, ſo I will leave you for the next I meet, whoſe humour and face pleaſeth me better then yours.

Thus did Hylas reſolve to take his leave of that Shepherdeſſe, and to chuſe a new one; but preſently reprehending himſelf, what now Hylas? ſaid he, canſt thou ſuffer another to be maſter of her whom thou now poſſeſſeſt, and to enjoy all thoſe favours which that fair one reſerves for thee? In ſaying ſo, his ſoul reſented ſuch ſparks of jealouſie as argu [...] him to be very deeply wounded: No, no, ſaid he, never think Hylas, that after Stella any in the world is worthy of thee; and it is for her only whom the gods have permitted thee to caſt off Carlie, Stilliana, Cloris, Florice, Chriſide, Phillis, Laonice, and ſo many others, who had not charms powerful enough to retain me any longer in their ſervice; but let me tell you (ſaid he preſently after) if all my nights ſhould be like to this, Stella would be quickly without a ſervant▪ and I without a Miſtreſſe; and therefore I think it is beſt for both to part fair, and ſhift for our ſelves betimes whilſt we are both well.

This was his laſt reſolution, upon which he fell aſleep, and dream'd that Stella was very glad of his intention to quit her, and ſeemed to accept of any ones ſervice before his: when he waked he ſaw it was broad day, therefore he dreſt himſelf, and not thinking Stella yet ready to be ſeen, he went to divert himſelf in the garden of Clindor.

On the other ſide, Phocion, who was extreamly deſirons to ſee Aſtrea, acquainted Stella and Celidea that he would go unto the houſe of Adamas: whereupon [Page] they reſolved to go with him: ſo unknown unto Hylas, they, with Thamires, Licidas, and others accompanied him unto the houſe of the Druide.

Alcander in the interim intended to preſent his priſoner unto the Nymph, and deſired▪ Adamas to acquaint her, which the Druide did, and afterwards told him the diſcourſe which paſſed between the Nymph and him: he told him how extreamly the Nymph thought her ſelf obliged unto his valour, and how deſirous ſhe was to give him thanks; alſo her great deſires to acknowledge ſo many ſervices, and particularly this of referring Peledontes to her diſcretion: He told him what reaſons Amaſis had to puniſh him, that being her ſubject ſhould offer to aſſiſt Polemas in his rebellion. And in concluſion, deſired Alcander from Amaſis, that he would be contented Juſtice ſhould be done upon ſuch an offendour, to teach others to keep within compaſs of their duty.

Alcander, who was wholly devoted unto the intereſt of Amaſis, and aimed at nothing more then her preſervation, he conſented unto whatſoever ſhe pleaſed, and transferred, though with a little regret, Peledontes into the hands of Adamas, and he was preſently put into the ſame priſon where Clemanthes a little before rendred up his laſt breath: there the Druide cauſed him to be clogged with Irons, and put him into ſuch a certain expectation of great, puniſhment, that he looked for no leſs then death: Now he began to think upon the crime whereof he was guilty, and lamented the miſerable condition whereunto he had brought himſelf. Death preſented it ſelf unto him in a thouſand forms, and ſo dumped him, that he was deſperate: he did nothing but curſe Polemas, who had drawn him into that unjuſt quarrel: In the midſt of all his horrour, he began to think which way it was poſſible for him to ſave his life: At laſt, the hatred which he had conceived againſt Polemas, or perhaps the gods, who were not willing he ſhould end his dayes ſo ignominiouſly, did help him with an invention, which he had ſuch hopes would teke, that he extreamly deſired to ſpeak with Adamas; and the Druide was no ſooner come unto him, but Peledontes ſaid thus unto him. I muſt needs confeſs, reverend Father, that the crime which I have committed againſt Amaſis cannot be too ſeverely puniſhed; but if you will pleaſe to conſider how great an influence large promiſes and proteſtations of advancement have upon humane imbecillities, you will alſo confeſs it extream hard to avoid the ſwallowing poiſon of ſuch gilded pills as Polemas laid before me: I do not ſpeak this to diſcharge my ſelf, or to eſcape the puniſhment which I juſtly deſerve, but to let you know that I did not ſin out of my own inclination, but was violently tempted unto it by the ſtrong inſtigations of that wicked man. Now Father I know it to be the quality of the gods, ſometimes to pardon the greateſt crimes, eſpecially when the ſinner does ſtrive to make a repentant reparation; and I am in ſome hopes, that if you do not deny me your interceſſion, I may obtain a pardon for my crime, as great as it is, ſince I am able to repair it with advantage, and can diſcover a deſign, upon which the welfare or the ruine of the Nymph does moſt infallibly depend.

Adamas liſtned very attentively unto the diſcourſe of Peledontes, without any interruption, and conſidering in what reputation this Cavalier was with Polemas, he thought that he might perhaps diſcover ſome ſecret which might be the preſervation of the place. Yet doubting leſt it ſhould be only ſome ſubtilty to defer his puniſhment, he ſtayed a while without any anſwer. Aſſure your ſelf Father (ſaid Pelecontes) that if my life may be ſaved, I will make good what I ſay; but if not, I proteſt no Torture or Rack ſhall ever get this ſecret out of my mouth, Peledontes ſpoke this ſo earneſtly, and Adamas who knew the courage of that Cavalier, and began to compaſſionate his misfortune, anſwered, that the heart of Amaſis was not made of marble, nor her ſoul ſo inſenſible of any benefit, but ſhe knew how to meaſure her recompences accordingly; and therefore (ſaid he) ſince you may very well rely upon her mercy, tell freely all that you know which may be advantageous to her, for that is the way doubtleſſe to obtain any pity or pardon from her.

Father (replied Peledontes) I am able to do her the greateſt piece of ſervice that ever was done: for if I ſhould not prevent it, the Town of Marcelles will [Page] moſt certainly be in the power of Polemas within theſe ten days. If what you ſay be ſo (ſaid the Druide) the Nymph is obliged to preſerve his life, that will preſerve hers; and if you have any confidence in me, I dare promiſe you upon the faith of a Druide, that ſhe will grant your pardon, ſo you will make all this apparent unto her. Your word Father (anſwered Peledontes) is as ſacred unto me as the Nymphs; and upon this aſſurance of it, I will diſcover a treaſon unto you, which if it be not prevented very ſuddenly, will certainly be the ruine of Amaſis and your ſelf. Upon this Peledontes knowing that Adamas was the Ruler of all in Marcelles, he acquai [...] him, with the treachery of Meronthes, and his plea of bringing Polemas with all his Army under ground into the Town. He told him, that this very night the work was to be begun, and that he might know the place by a light which would be ſet up upon a Tent where it was intended. When Adamas heard this, he ſtood amazed, not being able to think Meronies culpable of ſuch a trechery, ſince Amaſis had been ſo good unto him, as to truſt him with one of the Ports in the Town; yet ſince the time of tryal whether it was ſo, was at hand, he ſuſpended his thoughts till then, and bade Peledontes adieu, ſwearing unto him, that if this were found true, he would obtain from the Nymph, not only a pardon for his life, but a recompence worthy for ſuch a notable piece of ſervice.

In the mean time Phocion came to the houſe of Adamas, and not finding him, he went unto the chamber of Aſtrea, where Celidea, Stella, and the reſt were no ſooner entred, but that Shepherdeſs began to careſs them, as if ſhe had not ſeen them in ten years before: Preſently after, Alexis ſent for them; and though Adamas had no deſire ſhe ſhould be ſeen, as well in reſpect of her wounds, as out of fear ſhe ſhould be known; yet ſhe had taken ſuch good reſt, and her wounds were ſo little troubleſome to her, that ſhe could not endure to be any longer out of the preſence of Aſtrea.

Theſe Shepherds then, and theſe Shepherdeſſes, went unto the chamber of Alexis, where they had not been half an hour talking, how much Aſtrea was obliged unto the courage of that ſuppoſed Druide, but Hylas entred: This Shepherd wondred not to find Stella in the houſe of Clindor, but hearing that ſhe followed Phocion, he enquired which way they were gone, and hearing it was unto the houſe of Adamas he went thither: As ſoon as he was well entred into the chamber of Alexis, he ſtopped upon a ſudden, and looking upon all the company, he asked if they knew him: And the Shepherdeſſes anſwering yes: Truly (ſaid he) I wonder at it; for I am extreamly changed of late: Do you not ſee how I have all the ſignes of death in my face? Stella who laughed at him, and ſeeing his eye fixed upon her, ſhe thought it her part to anſwer and therefore ſaid unto him: It is very ſtrange ſervant, that you ſhould wonder at any change in your ſelf, ſince it is but cuſtomary in you; but I have much ado to find any ſigns of death in your face, for they uſe to be extreamly pale, and I never ſaw you more red then now you are. It is then (anſwered Hylas) becauſe I bluſh at my ſimplicity, in wiſhing you ſo well as I have done. That cauſe (replyed Stella, and was a little netled) ſhall never put me to the bluſh; for the truth is, I never wiſhed you well. Your angry mood (replyed Hylas) is not an argument of your indifferency. Then it is of my diſdain (anſwered ſhe) for ſuch a pitiful thing as Hylas cannot make me angry. All the company were much ſurprized at the rareneſs of theſe two new Lovers; and the more, becauſe they could not imagine what ſhould be the cauſe of their quarrel; ſo as for better ſatisfaction, Aſtrea addreſſed her ſelf unto Stella, and ſaid unto her, The ill humour wherein I ſee Hylas, makes me afraid to ſpeak unto him, leſt he ſhould be angry at me alſo; but ſince I believe you are not compoſed of ſo much Touchwood as he is, good Stella, tell as what cauſe of diſcontent have you given unto him? Really (anſwered Stella) I am as ignorant as you; but I believe, that he not having any colourable pretence of quitting me, he will needs quarrel with my innocency. Astrea and the reſt did know very well that Stella ſpoke as ſhe thought, yet not being able to believe the levity of Hylas ſo great, as to break off with a woman without ſome appearance of reaſon, Phillis ventured to talk unto him: Hylas (ſaid ſhe) we [Page] cannot imagine the reaſon of your ange [...], unleſs it be that you are reſolved to diſoblige all manner of women. Fair Phillis (anſwered the inconſtan [...] man) my anger reaches not ſo far as you, nor any further then Stella; and could I not remember her, which will be ere long. I ſhould forget that ever I was angry. You ſhall make good haſte (ſaid Stella, and interrupted him) if you forget ſooner then I; for I proteſt, I begin already to think that I never ſaw you. No matter (replyed Hylas) whether I go poſt or no, ſo I arrive at my intended port, all is well enough. All this (ſaid Phillis) does not give us any ſatisfaction. Fair Shepherdeſs (ſaid Hylas) I can tell you what the matter is in f [...] [...]ords; it is becauſe this woman which you ſee there, will not let me reſt in the night. Oh heaven! ſaid Stella, is he ſo impudent as to ſay that I ever went unto him when he was in bed? Yes, yes, anſwered he, I did ſay, and will ſay again, that you were with me when I was in bed; not in your proper perſon, but your Image did take up a lodging ſo long in my mind, and kept poſſeſſion of it ſo ſtrongly, that do what I could, I could not for my heart get you out of it. Stella who expected to hear ſomthing that would offend her, now hearing that he complained only againſt her Image, and that he accuſed her of a thing, unto which her very thought was not ſo much as acceſſory, ſhe broke out into ſuch a fit of laughter, as made all the reſt laugh for company: at which the Shepherd being netled, well, well (ſaid he) laugh on Stella, as this firſt harm you have done me; but I ſwear by my ſelf (for that is now the only perſon whom I love) that I will never give you any cauſe to laugh at any harm you ſhall ever do to me again.

Hylas ſpoke this in a very ſerious manner, and Stella ſtill laughed more and more, teſtifying by her actions that ſhe repented of nothing of what ſhe had either ſaid or done. I promiſe you Shepherd (ſaid ſhe) that I ſhall neither laugh nor cry at either your good or bad fortune, and it ſhall be the leaſt of my cares, whether you be dead or alive. Hylas did not hear theſe laſt words, becauſe he was walked to the other end of the room in a melancholy ſtudy; and ſitting down near the bed of Alexis, he heard Alexis ſay unto him. Hylas, what do you think upon? I am thinking (anſwered he) upon whom I ſhould beſtow that heart which I have taken from Stella; and that which moſt troubles me, is, that truly I do not know a woman that better deſerves it then ſhe. Then (ſaid Celidea) You cannot do better then to beſtow it upon her again; and I aſſure my ſelf, ſhe is not of ſuch a marble compoſition, but ſhe will melt, and receive it. Your advice (replyed the Shepherd) is good, and the better, becauſe it ſuits with my inclination: as ſoon as he had ſaid ſo, he went and caſt himſelf at the feet of Stella, and taking her hand by force, he kiſſed it, and ſaid: If our Laws and conditions fair Shepherdeſs, were tyrannical, it were injuſtice to obſerve them, and I believe I ſhould ſin againſt you the firſt minute I began to put them into uſe; but ſince they aim at nothing but liberty, and ſince they are of your own eſtabliſhment, I hope I ſhall not be condemned if I put them into practiſe: Now Miſtris, the ſame Law that allows me to take away my heart when I will, does allow you to receive it again when you pleaſe. I do now preſent it unto you again, and ſwear by the Moon, by the winds, and by all the waves of the Sea, that I will never again revoke it: Upon this, Hylas kiſſed her hand again; and Stella, after a ſeeming denial, was at laſt conſtrained to remit him into grace, being condemned unto it by all the company.

All this while Celadon durſt not ſpeak, left if ſhould be inconvenient unto him, but he took much delight in this paſſage between Hylas and Stella. Diana only and Sylvander ſeemed ſad; and indeed both their ſouls were ſo full, that they had much ado to hide it: It was happy for them that all the windows of Celadons chamber were ſhut; ſo as it being very dark, and being near each other, Silvander, not to let ſuch an opportunity of diſcourſe with his Miſtris to ſlip, he began thus.

How does the faireſt Diana? You look (me-thinks) as if your mind were afflicted with ſome new ſorrows. My ſorrows (anſwered ſhe) are not more grievous then ordinary, nor worth the talking of; but I ſhall be glad to know from whence proceeds thoſe ſorrows which I ſee in your countenance more then were accuſtomed. My countenance then (replyed Sylvander) is more eloquent then I [Page] am, ſince it can better ſpeak my ſorrows then my ſelf; and ſince you command me tell you the cauſe, he pleaſed Miſtreſſe to know that my ſorrows are the legitimate children of your diſcontentments. I ſhall much complain againſt the badneſs of my humour (ſaid the Shepherdeſs) ſince it is the cauſe of yours: and I (ſaid the Shepherd) ſhall much commend my humour for being conformable unto yours: And from hence, faireſt Miſtreſs, you may draw an argument which teſtifies my affection, and the power which you have upon me, ſince it is impoſſible I ſhould be any otherwiſe then as you would have me. Did your Fortune depend upon me (ſaid Diana) and were I the diſpoſer of Scepters and Crowns, I do eſteem your merit at that night, that I would make you the Monarch of all the world. The glory of being your Slave (anſwered Silvander) is deares unto me then an Empire; but my deareſt Shepherdeſs, ſhall I not know the cauſe of your ſorrows? You will know it but too ſoon (anſwered ſhe) both for your contentment and my own.

Let not the harm which can happen unto me (ſaid Silvander) hinder you from telling me what it is, for conſidering my condition I am to fear the worſt, an unknown vagabond, without ſupport of Parents, or any hopes to accompliſh my deſires, unleſſ [...] in death which is the end of all things▪ I am a man the leaſt of all men in Fortunes favour, and I can juſtly ſay, that the gods can take nothing from me but the favour of Diana. Though they do not take my favour from you, replied the Shepherdeſſe, yet they will rob you of all hopes in receiving any fruits of that favour: for, at which word ſhe ſtope, and fetched a deep ſigh, at which Silvander was much troubled: I Miſtreſſe (ſaid he) I beſeech you go on▪ the end of your diſcourſe cannot be more ſad unto me, then the beginning which of it ſelf is enough to make me die: For Paris (replied ſhe) will no ſooner be returned but he muſt marry Diana: in ſaying ſo, ſhe took a handkerchief out of her pocket, and turning aſide left the Shepherd ſhould ſee her, ſhe began to drive up thoſe tears which ſhe could not reſtrain: Silvander, who had no leſs cauſe for tears then ſhe, yet he conſtrained himſelf; for ſeeing ſuch a fit opportunity of talk, he thought the time better imployed that way then in tears: he told then that the misfortune which the Oracle did threaten unto him, was not abſolutely without a remedy, if love, or the conſideration of his ſervices did oblige her to have pity upon him.

Diana then ſpeaking lower, leſt they ſhould be heard, Shepherd (ſaid ſhe unto him) I muſt needs confeſſe that I ow all manner of affection unto that good will which you have expreſſed unto me; and let me tell you freely, that my affection unto you ſhall go as far as ever honour will permit me; but conſider how far that is, and you will find, that if my mother be reſolved to give me unto Paris, it is impoſſible for me to diſobey her. Certainly (ſaid Silvander) ſhe will never force you unto it; the virtue of Belinde is repugnant unto ſuch Tyranny. But (ſaid Diana) if ſhe do expreſs her deſires only of having it ſo, is not her will a perfect command unto me? What deſires ſoever ſhe expreſſeth, replied the Shepherd, your conſent is alwayes neceſſary, without which ſhe will proceed no further.

Did you live only for the contentment of another, and not your ſelf, I ſhould not condemn this thought in you; but ſince you are the perſon moſt concerned in it, and the weal or the wo of all your life depends upon it, moſt undoubtedly you were much to blame if you do not rather follow your own humour, then theirs, who not knowing your inclination, aim more at their own conveniences then yours. What then would you have me do (replied the Shepherdeſſe) would it become me to proclaim at the Market that I will have Silvander, and not Paris? Believe it Shepherd, my honour is dearer unto me then my life, and I had rather endure all manner of torments then fail in my duty, and will ſooner refuſe all happineſſe then do any thing that becomes not a woman of virtue. To take one and refuſe another (anſwered Silvander) does not at all ſtain the reputation of a woman, and though you ſhould ſay you love Silvander better than you do Paris, cannot your affection plead a full excuſe for it? if thoſe upon whom you have dependency will allow you ſome particular means which haſt [Page] pleaſe your taſte, ought they not as well to allow you the choice of that man with whom you are to live and die? No, no, faireſt Diana, you are not in the condition of ſlaves, whoſe tongues are not their own; you may ſpeak and ſpeak boldly in a buſineſs which concerns your ſelf the moſt, and in which none but your ſelf muſt anſwer for the ſucceſſe. Silvander expreſſed himſelf ſo very affectionately, that the heart of Diana began to melt, and ſo far as to teſtifie it by her tears, and the Shepherd ſeeing that ſhe did not ſpeak, but wavered in her reſolution, he would try if he could make a compleat conqueſt, and therefore he ſaid thus unto her. When the gods told me I ſhould die, they knew (my faireſt Miſtreſſe) that your rigour would be the cauſe of it; and I ſhall ſoon verifie their words, ſince you are not pleaſed to afford me the conſolation of a word: I beſeech you conſider into what raptures I am ready to fall, and how excuſeable my fury will be, ſince it ſeems you have flattered me only to betray me; and has raiſed my ambition high, only that it might have the greater fall. I ſhall not greive to ſee my ſelf an object of ſcorn by every Shepherd, ſince I am the object of your cruelty; but it will be ten thouſand deaths unto me to ſee my enemies triumph over me, without any other arms but your want of affection. Shepherd (ſaid ſhe) you may loſe me, and ſee me in the poſſeſſion of another, but you ſhall never loſe my affection; The knowledge that I have of your merits, and of my obligation unto your diſcretion, are chains ſtrong enough to retain it eternally. The gods are my witneſſes, how I deſire your contentment above my own life: Hope therefore Silvander in the goodneſs of the gods, and in their juſtice; as ſhe ſpoke theſe words, her eyes did ſo overflow with tears, that they took away her ſight; ſo as ſhe took no notice when Silvander leaning his cheek againſt hers, did kiſs her: Deareſt Shepherdeſs (ſaid he) let this kiſs inſpire that life into me which you would have me preſerve. Shepherd (ſaid Diana) your boldneſs does extreamly diſpleaſe me; Diſcretion and Fidelity are the arms wherewith you have overcome me, and without which your victory will not continue long; and this is the way to make me dry up all my tears, and never grieve for the loſſe of you.

The Shepherd began to ask her pardon for his offence when Adamas entred, ſo as ſhe made all the haſte ſhe could to tell him, that if he did acknowledge his crime, and promiſe to offend no more, ſhe would pardon him; and Silvander (ſaid ſhe) commit not ſuch a fault again upon pain of my extream diſpleaſure: upon this he roſe up to do reverence unto the Druide. Adamas did not expect to find ſo much company with Alexis, and was at firſt ſurprized at it; yet conſidering they were all his friends, he was better ſatisfied, and was not ſorry for their viſit of Celadon: After the firſt complements he went to the bed of the ſuppoſed Druide, and told her that it was convenient to diſmiſſe all the good company that her wounds might be dreſſed: Celadon obeyed him, and after thanks unto Aſtrea, Diana, and Phillis, thoſe Shepherdeſſes took their leaves and went out of the chamber with the reſt of the company, but parted not from Celidea, Stella, Phocion, Silvander, Hylas, Licidas, and the reſt, until it was dark night.

Polemas amidſt all his diſcontents did not forget the reſolution he had taken with Meronthes, by the negotiation of his ſoon: ſo that as ſon as day appeareed, he pitched a Tent as near the ditch as he could get, where having erected a light, he gave his level unto thoſe that were to work in the Mine, and commandad them, that as ſoon as ever they ſaw another light in the Town, they ſhould fix their level to point at, and be their guide in the work. But Adamas who extreamly deſired to ſurprize Meronthes, and to know whether Peledontes told him truly, he no ſooner perceived the Tent which Polemas had erected near the ditch, but he ſuſpected their dangerous deſign: He took therefore a good party of Souldi [...]rs, and entreating Damon and Dalcidon to go with him unto the houſe of Meronthes, they were no ſooner come, but they broke open the door, and went preſently into the cave, where the Traytour had prepared all things neceſſary for his intended work. The noiſe which they made in breaking open the door did ſo ſurprize Meronthes, that when Adamas came to him he looked as pale as death. [Page] And the Druide ſeizing immediately upon his perſon, Traytor (ſaid he unto him) is this the way to pay that fidelity which thou o weſt unto thy Princeſs▪ Father (anſwered Meronthes) I am a moſt faithful ſubject, and never failed in the ſervice which I owe unto my Soveraign. Thy works are teſtimonies of what you are (ſaid Adamas) and in ſaying ſo, he put him into the hands of the Souldiers: afterwards asked him, to what purpoſe he placed a light upon the top of his houſe? To this he anſwered with a confident Brow, that in doing ſo, he did the part of a good ſubject; for his houſe being neer the Walls, he always ſet a man in that Tower with a light, to diſcover whether the enemy made any approaches. Then Adamas asking him what was the meaning of all thoſe ſpades, hatchets, and mattocks? He anſwered, that they were ſuch as he was wont to uſe in the Country about the husbandry of ground, and when he doubted the rebellion of Polemas, he brought all his houſhold-ſtuff, and other moveables out of his Country houſe, into the Town, for ſafety. The Druide admired his impudence in lying, and commanded he ſhould be ſearched, to ſee whether he had the Level about him; and a ſouldier no ſooner put his hand into the pocket of Meronthes, but he found it.

Alcidon and Damon in the mean time ſeized upon his ſon; and putting the ſame queſtions unto him which Adamas did unto the father, their anſwers were ſo different, that they alone were enough to convince them of their villany: yet Adamas deſiring their own confeſſions might be witneſſes againſt them, he followed them into the priſon; where telling them of the detention of Polemas, and charging them home with their enterpriſe, he made them at laſt confeſs their intended treachery againſt Amaſis.

Meronthes fell preſently into tears and ſupplications and falling down upon his knees, implored the Druide to intercede for a pardon: But all his ſhews of repentance would not move that Princeſs to grant it; for as ſoon as ever ſhe heard of their confeſſions by the the report of Adamas, ſhe did ſo abhor their treaſon, that without any motions of mercy, ſhe commanded they ſhould be preſently ſtrangled, and hanged upon the walls, oppoſite to the Tent which Polemas had erected, for an example unto all Traytors. The Nymphs command was executed the ſame night, and their puniſhment was thought by every one ſo juſt, that none did pity them.

Their deaths was the life of Peledontes, for Adamas was as good as his word, yet upon condition he ſhould ſtill remain a priſoner, till it was ſeen how the deſigns of Polemas againſt the Nymph would end.

All things thus paſſed, whilſt Laonice lived in the ſame ſolitude which the Oracle commanded ſhould be her retreat.

This Shepherdeſs was no ſooner parted from Thirſis, but ſhe reſolved to wander ſo long, as till ſhe had forgotten the diſdain of that ungrateful Shepherd, and till ſhe had found out a handſome way of revenge upon thoſe whom ſhe thought to be the Authors of her miſery: But not being able to live ſo far from the place where her beloved Shepherd, or rather her own ſoul reſided, ſhe changed her purpoſe, and went unto Mount Verdune, where ſhe offered her ſacrifice of prayer, and beſeeched the Deity of that place, he would be pleaſed to afford her ſome comfortable hopes by the mouth of his Oracle. Her requeſt was not in vain, for the ſame day ſhe conſulted with the Oracle, ſhe received this anſwer.

The Oracle.

WIthin this Wood, a ſecret Cell

Will all thy ſorrows cover well:

If Laonice conſtant be,

Heaven does her promiſe remedy.

[Page]This Oracle being pronounced, and Laonice having written it in her Table-book, leſt ſhe ſhould forget it, ſhe rendred thanks unto the Gods for putting her into ſome hopes of remedy againſt her miſery; and though the way was very obſcure unto her underſtanding, yet ſhe thought not any impoſſibility in it.

The firſt thing ſhe did, was to pay obedience unto the firſt verſe of the Oracle; and aſſuring her ſelf that the Wood mentioned therein, was the Wood of Mount Verdune, ſhe went unto it, and ſought out for a ſecret Cell which was in it: By Fortune ſhe found one more pleaſant then ere ſhe expected, for it was a thick kind of an Arbour, and no way to get into it, but a little path which conducted into it, and through into a Grotto, which both Nature and Art had caved out of a Rock: As ſoon as ſhe was in it, ſhe began to look about her, and conſider ſome particulars which ſhe found in ſeveral places; but becauſe ſhe could not comprehend the myſtery of them within the compaſs of her underſtanding, ſhe thought the place had been formerly the retreat of ſome Druide: ſo not thinking to find a fitter place, ſhe reſolved to ſtay there, until the Gods did direct her unto ſome other courſe; and ſo ſuſtaining her ſelf with ſome Country fruits which the Woods afforded, ſhe ſpent her time, ſomtimes conſulting with the Eccho, and calling upon Thirſis, was anſwered with Thirſis again; and ſomtimes talking to the Rocks and Trees: but ſtill that Shepherd was all the only ſubject of her diſcourſe.

Thus this Shepherdeſs led her life, which ſeemed leſs tedious unto her, becauſe it was in expectation of that remedy which the Gods had promiſed unto her, and in the hopes whereof ſhe only lived; for ſhe had no other reſt nor delight, but only in thinking continually upon Thirſis, whoſe ſoul in the mean time was wholly devoted unto the memory of his dear Cleon.

Polemas, who had all the night thought upon his intended work, and flattered himſelf with a thouſand hopes, that by this means his Love, and his Ambition, would obtain a happy concluſion; he no ſooner ſaw day appear, but he aroſe, and went to ſee how things went forward; and finding that he had already got within ſix paces of the ditch, he was infinitely pleaſed; ſo as commanding thoſe who had wrought, to reſt themſelves until the next night, he appointed others to ſupply their places. This command was no ſooner obeyed, but it was broad day; and the Sun guilding the top of the mountain Iſoures, Polemas by chance caſt his eye upon the houſe of Meronthes, always imagining that if he made as good haſte with his works, it was impoſſible but Galathea, and the Town too, would be preſently his: But the bodies of that Traytor, and his ſon, being hung upon the Walls, and expoſed to the view of all Polemas his Army, that Cavalier did quickly know them: At the firſt he would fain have given his eyes the lie, and did what he could to make ſome doubt of that which was too apparent; but after he had rubbed his eyes a hundred times, that he might ſee the better, he found that it did but make him more clearly ſee the marks of his misfortune: Then did he begin to vomit out all the curſes and blaſphemies againſt the Gods and Amaſis, that fury could inſpire into a deſperate ſoul: Afterwards recollecting himſelf a little, Is there no way of revenge (ſaid he) left me? Has my curſed fate deprived me of Alexis, and Aſtrea, and Sylvia too, Is Semires turned Traytor, and I not know whether he be dead or alive? Ah Vilain! continued he, thou art the cauſer of all my miſeries, and if ever I get thee again into my hands, the moſt cruel torments that ever Tyrants invented, ſhall bring him to a curſed dea [...]h: But certainly this Traytor could not know of my correſpondency with Meronthes; and if Pelidontes have not betrayed us, certainly they have uſed Witchcraft to diſcover it: But alas (ſaid he, and looked upon the corps which he ſaw hang upon the Walls) yonder is Meronthes that ſuffers for my rebellion: Poor Meronthes! thy fidelity unto me did not deſerve ſo ſad a recompence: But dear Meronthes, in what place ſoever thy ſoul is now, I would have it know, that my end ſhall not be more happy then thine, unleſs I have taken a full revenge upon thy enemies and mine.

In ſaying ſo, his ſorrows ſo encreaſed, that he was conſtrained to retire; and commanding that the work ſhould ceaſe, becauſe he knew that his deſigne was [Page] diſcovered, he was once in a mind to attempt another deſperate aſſault upon the Town, and either to die in the head of his Army, or elſe force it to ſubmit. But Argonides and Listander, who were then with him, knowing very well that he was not in a condition for ſuch an enterprize, adviſed him to return unto Suriea, where the reſt of his Artillery and Engines were; and that he ſhould fortifie that place, and ſtay there with all his Army, until the King of the Burgandians did ſend him his promiſed relief: They propounded alſo, that if he ſaw that relief from Gondebaut ſlow in coming; he ſhould under ſome honourable pretence offer a Truce unto the Nymph, for as long or ſhort a time as he ſhould think expedient. Polemas, whoſe ſoul was all in confuſion, by reaſon ſo many misfortunes upon the neck of one another, he gave ear unto the councel of Liſtander and Argonides, never conſidering whether it was good or bad; ſo as giving orders for the retreat of his Army, he ſent a Herald unto Amaſis. This Officer was no ſooner at the gate of the Town, but Adamas was advertiſed of it, and cauſing a draw bridge to be let down, they gave him entrance, and conducted him into the Caſtle. All the Cavaliers were then with Amaſis, ſo as the Herald being amazed to ſee ſo many men of merit, he conceived it would be a long time before the Town could be forced; yet it not being his office to judge of their ſtrength, but to acquit himſelf of his Commiſſion, as ſoon as he ſaw Amaſis, he kneeled down upon the ground, and being commanded by the Nymph to riſe, he ſpoke in this manner.

Polemas my Maſter, being unwilling to neglect any way of ſweetneſs, whereby he way obtain from you that contentment which he deſerves, does yet offer to lay down his Arms, if you will put into his hands the Nymph Galathea, whom he deſires to marry; and becauſe he knows very well, that though you ſhould have a diſpoſition to conſent unto it, yet you have many about you to conſult withall: He offers unto the term of fifteen dayes conſideration, during which time, if you pleaſe, there ſhall be a ceſſation of Arms. Upon this, the Herald having made an humble reverence, Amaſis told him that he ſhould have an anſwer within an hour: during which time, ſhe would adviſe with Godomar, Adamas, Damon, and Alcidon; which ſhe accordingly, and all were of opinion that ſhe ſhould accept of this Truce, ſince in that interim, Sigiſmond, Roſilion, or Lindamor, might come unto her relief: upon this reſolution ſhe returned to the Herald, and gave him this anſwer.

Herald, tell thy maſter Polemas, that as yet I do not think his arms are able to maks me conſent unto that which his arrogance does pretend unto; but ſince he will give me that time of conſideration: Tell him I would have him in that interim bethink him of ſuch a courſe as may move me to forget his crime, and to pardon it: That otherwiſe, I do not think this ceſſation of Arms will do any good, but make me hate him the more, and think him leſſe worthy of pity. Upon this Amaſis aroſe, and the Herald went away, whom Adamas conducted to the gate of the Town.

Polemas, who expected his return with much impatiency, was very glad the Nymph had accepted of the Truce; but when he heard that ſhe adviſed him to think upon ſome way which might render him worthy of her favour, this ſtung him to the ſoul, imagining that this Princeſs was not yet in any inclination of any will unto him: yet not being able to avoid his misfortunes, he rejected all ſuch good motions of mind; and ſtill flattered his preſumption with huge hopes of that relief which he expected from Gondebaut. In this obſtinacy he commanded his Army to make a retreat, and return unto Suriea, fully reſolved to begin the ſiege again, the next day after the expiration of the Truce: aſſuring himſelf, that within fifteen dayes he ſhould receive that relief which was promiſed unto him by the Burgundian King.

On the otherſide, Adamas was not imployed in the preſervation of Amaſis and the State, but he thought upon the recovery of Celadon, ſo as by the help of ſome Medicaments, he was in a ſhort time able to riſe out of his bed; at which Astrea was ſo overjoyed, that it was apparent ſhe valued his recovery above her own life. The Druides greateſt care was to keep Amaſis from any viſits, leſt Galathea [Page] ſhould come with her; yet he found out ſuch handſome excuſes as prevented that danger.

About the ſame time the Queen Argira ended her journey, and came unto Policander, who ſtill lived as if he had made a league with death, to let him live until he rendred up his laſt breath in her preſence: As ſoon as ever he ſaw her he rouzed ny himſelf, for his intellectuals were as perfect as ever; and not being able to reſtrain ſome tears which pity brought into his eyes, he turned himſelf, though with much ado, towards that Princeſſe; and ſeeing her already upon her knees at his bed ſide, and her eyes flowing in tears: Madam (ſaid he in a faint voice) the gods have favoured me ſo far, as to ſuſpend my death, that I might obſerve that promiſe which I made unto you; and that you being a witneſſe of my death, I ſhould receive the greateſt comfort that I ere can hope for. But ſince my ſickneſſe will not ſuffer me to be ſo ceremonious as I deſired, be pleaſed, Madam, to accept of my good will, and to know that I am no leſs yours then if our marriage had been ſolemnized with the moſt ſumptuous Ceremonies: upon this he ſtopped, as if it were to recollect a little ſtrength, and whilſt the Queen was drown'd in ſorrows, he began to ſpeak again. I do declare before the gods and all the world (ſaid he, and turned himſelf towards all the Grandees of his Kingdome) that Argira is the wife of Policander, and that I am her legitimate husband; and if any one do deſire to know the cauſes of this marriage, let him know this, that it is the will of heaven and my own duty that cummands it. Then holding out his hand to the Queen, who taking it and bedewing it with tears, Sir (ſaid ſhe unto him) I do with all my ſoul receive this favour which you do unto me, and proteſt that I take this honour for the greateſt advantage that heaven could advance me unto: But alas muſt I now loſe you? heaven has favoured me in the recovery of Roſilion, and I hope they will not deny me when I begg for yours. At the name of Roſilion the King began to change colour, and looking upon him, he could not chuſe, notwithſtanding the violence of his ſickneſs, but give ſome expreſſions of joy.

Roſilion, who was even dead with ſorrow, and whoſe face had as few ſigns of life in it, as in that of Policander, he advanced towards him, and falling upon his knees cloſe by the Queen, he heard the King ſay thus; The Law of death is ſo common unto all men, as you ought not to think it ſtrange I ſhould pay that debt which I ow unto Nature. Did not Kings uſe to die as well as other men, you had ſome reaſon to wonder I ſhould be excluded from that priviledge, and that my Scepter and my Crown ſhould not defend me againſt the blows of death; but a Monarch has no more right to live then the pooreſt Shepherd: we do dayly ſee their aſhes and their Monuments; as this methinks ſhould be a great conſolation unto you all; to know that I die becauſe the gods will have it ſo, and that they never made any man who was not ſubject unto death: therefore my deareſt Argira, if you have any conſideration of my reſt, and have any deſire to pleaſe me. I beſeech you ſtop the current of your tears which do but grieve me. I do not require any greater teſtimonies of your love, then thoſe you have already given me, and wiſh for no more but leave to die.

Policander uttered theſe words with ſuch a dying voice, as if his ſoul had gone out of his mouth at the laſt word: the Queen was deeply overwhelmed in ſorrows, as Roſilion, whoſe groans did teſtifie the ſadneſs of his ſoul. The wrong Celidontes, unto whom Policander had already given the Crown of the Ambarres, of the Boyers, and of the Lemovices, upon condition he would marry Cephiſe, was ſo extreamly afflicted, that he could not rejoyce at the return of Argira, nor reſent that contentment, which at another time, the recovery would have been unto him.

At laſt the King perceiving himſelf every minute to grow weaker, and weaker, and finding himſelf not able to hold out any longer; he began to ſtrive with himſelf: Argira (ſaid he▪ with a deep ſigh) I conjure you by that which you love beſt, and I think that is my memory, to have a care of thoſe whom I leave under your tuition: Make them, by your example of virtue, to abhor vice; and conſidering that riches are as fading as our ſelves, remember that all the good or bad [Page] which we are to have in the other world, depends only upon the merit of our actions in this life. And you Roſilion (ſaid he, holding out his feeble hand) or rather the true Celiodantes, forgive that crime which in my ignorance I committed againſt you: Do not accuſe me of ingratitude; and may Roſanira, whom I give unto you, long enjoy thoſe Grandeurs wherein you ſhall ſhare, as King of the Santons and Picts: Love him for my ſake, who hath ſo long uſurped your name.

In ſaying ſo, he turned towards the wrong Celiodantes; and you my ſon, ſaid he unto him, pay back with intereſt the good will he ſhall bear unto you: Love Peace: Never take up Arms but in a juſt cauſe: Have God ſtill on your ſide: and above all, carry your ſelf well towards Argira: This is all I deſire from you, Farewel my Sons, farewel dear Argira, farewel Ro▪— At this word he expired, and his eye remaining ſtill fixed upon Roſilion, they knew his intention was to have named him, but could not pronounce the laſt part of his name; which the Queen perceiving, and finding Policander to be as cold as marble, it was an hundred to one but ſhe had followed him that very hour. All former conſiderations of her voyage, which ſhould have been conſolations unto her, were quite forgotten, and not one thought could keep her from a preſent deſpair; one would have thought that ſhe had drowned her reaſon in her tears, and that ſhe had ſought for the ſoul of Policander, in the roots of that hair which ſhe pulled from her head. The wrong Celiodantes was almoſt out of himſelf; and though the death of the King did leave him an Empire, yet he teſtified, that he thought the loſs of his perſon made him no gainer. Cephiſe and Roſilion were no leſs afflicted; and all the Cavaliers preſent, expreſſed abundance of grief for the loſs of their Prince: They came all unto the Queen, and ſwore fidelity unto her and Celiodantes; but ſhe was not in a condition to hear what they ſaid unto her; and if the Ladies had not got her into bed, perhaps ſhe had died.

Thus they all retired, almoſt as ſad for the ſickneſs of the Queen, as for the loſs of the King. But as in the viciſſitude of things, nothing is durable; ſo the ſorrows of Argira, of Celiodantes, and of Roſilion, at the laſt leſſened, and their reaſon having eſcaped the ſhipwrack of the firſt reſentment, the Queen began to remember that aid which ſhe had promiſed unto the Nymph, and ſhe thought upon nothing more then her preſervation.

At the end of a few days, the people over whom Policander reigned, did put the Scepter and Crown upon the head of Celiodantes, with the ſame ceremonies as they were accuſtomed to crown their Kings; and Roſilion making all haſte to the Picts, did levie by the Queens permiſſion, twelve thouſand men; and afterwards taking leave of Celiodantes his brother, did take the field with his Ar [...], being reſolved to relieve Roſanira, and oppoſe all violence that ſhould be offered unto Amaſis.

The Sequel of the Hiſtory of LIPANDAS, AMERINA, MELANDRE, and LIDIAS.

DUring this while, Lipandas recovered of his wounds, but not of his paſſion: and though this Cavalier had not much acquaintance with Melandre, yet did he know her ſpirit, and that ſhe was the moſt generous woman in the world. This was a cauſe, that as ſoon as the Truce was concluded, and Polemas raiſed the ſiege, he was grieved to the very ſoul: He was not ſorry that Amaſis had great hopes in that relief which was promiſed unto her; but when he conſidered that this took from him the means of ſhewing his courage, and of overcoming the ſoul of Melandre by thoſe teſtimonies of his valour which he intended, he grew almoſt deſperate: yet knowing no remedy, he reſolved to wait with all poſſible patience, until the end of this ceſſation of Arms, and afterwards to perform ſuch glorious exploits, as ſhe ſhould in ſome [Page] ſort of think it an honour to be ſerved by a Cavalier ſo full of courage and affection.

In the mean time, it was permitted him to ſee her; and becauſe in this liberty he loſt not a minute of time, which afforded him the opportunity of entertaining her, he endeavoured a thouſand times to make her ſenſible of his paſſion. But ſhe would never be moved unto any further then pity; for ſhe appeared always ſo prepoſſeſſed with the thought of Lidias, as he could hardly ever hope for any alteration in her inclination. As oft as he conſidered by how many Laws he was obliged rather to die then leave loving her, he was confounded [...]he mentioned the combate wherein he was overcome, when ſhe expoſed her ſelf unto the fury of his Arms for the liberty of Lidias; and telling her it was a kind of miracle ſhe ſhould go off the field with that advantage which ſhe had; he endeavoured to perſwade her, that it was the Will of the Gods ſo to ſuffer it, only to let him have the glory of being furmounted by the charms of her eyes, as he was by her ſword. He told her how much he was obliged unto her curteſie in procuring his enlargement of Ligdamon, and ſwore unto her, that when ſhe thought to ſet him at liberty, ſhe ſo made him her ſlave, that he could not think any thing could be more pleaſing then his captivity: In concluſion, he expreſſed unto her all that his paſſion could ſuggeſt unto him: But all would not melt the heart of Melandre: for when he talked of his love, ſhe talked of that affection which ſhe preſerved for Lidias; and if Lipandas begged any comfort from her, ſhe told him that ſhe ſtood in as much need of it her ſelf.

Thus ſome days paſſed over, during which, all that the Cavalier could obtain from her, was, that in the end ſhe conſented he ſhould call himſelf her priſoner: and whilſt he lived in ſome ſort comforted by the delight he took in that T [...] tle which he thought ſo glorious unto him, Melandre was more and more afflicted; for hearing no more news of Lidias ſince ſhe ſaw him tyed with Alexis and Astrea, in the head of Polemas his Army, ſhe was full of jealouſie and deſpair: ſomtimes ſhe imagined that he was eſcaped with Amerina, and that in prejudice of the fidelity which he had vowed unto her, he would marry that woman in the firſt Town they came at: Afterwards conſidering it was impoſſible but he ſhould be extreamly wounded in the combate, ſhe perſwaded her ſelf that he was dead. Amidſt the confuſion of theſe vexing thoughts, ſhe was likely to die her ſelf, and certainly had done ſo, if heaven had not ſhewed ſome compaſſion upon her, and ſent her ſome news of him in this manner.

Amerina whom Lidias talked withal under the window of that chamber where Polemas kept Silvia priſoner, ſhe no ſooner ſaw her Lover carried away, but ſhe beg [...] to follow him; and though ſhe proteſted a thouſand times that he was not Ligdamon, ſhe could not keep him from being as the reſt were, ſhe begged of them upon her knees to put the ſame cords upon her hands; but ſeeing ſhe could not obtain that favour, which they uſed upon Lidias as a puniſhment, ſhe reſolved however not to forſake him, but to die with him. In this reſolution ſhe followed the Army of Polemas; and as ſoon as ſhe ſaw Lidias by the favour of Semires, looſe from his cords, and in a condition to defend himſelf, ſhe went ſtraight unto him; and having no other Arms to fight with but her tongue, ſhe made uſe of it to animate him; and did infuſe ſo much courage and ſtrength into him, that he began to think himſelf invincible: but at laſt, not being able to reſiſt ſo great a number, he retreated, as the reſt did, into the ditch, where he fought until he was ſo weak, by reaſon of ſeveral wounds, and loſs of blood, that he was conſtrained to fall down upon the ground. Then did Amerina fall down upon her knees, and without loſing any time in vain complaints, began to help him; ſo as pulling out her handkerchief, ſhe ſtopped the blood which ran from a wound in his arm.

A while after Polemas was entirely repulſed: ſo as when every one went back into the Town, Lidias had recovered a little ſtrength; ſo as by the aſſiſtance of Amerina, he roſe up; for ſhe taking him by the arm, and holding him up, ſhe got him within the walls: as ſoon as they were within, Lidias finding himſelf to faint, did turn his languiſhing eyes upon that woman, and would have bid his laſt adieu: But ſhe whom Love had inſpired with ſtrength, did ſo ſuſtain him, that [Page] ſhe got him ſome thirty p [...]ces further into the Town: Now did Amerina believe ſhe ſhould loſe him: for he falling into a ſwo [...]n▪ and ſhe having an ſtrength to ſuſtain him any longer, ſhe was forced to ſet him down under the near houſe upon a ſtone ſeat, which ſhe found by chance; and there finding no motion in Lidias, ſhe could not chuſe but cry out, and ſo violently, that the noiſe came unto the Maſter of the houſe; and though all the Town was in arms, you ſo it hapned, that he not being in a condition to bear Arms he never ſtirred out of his houſe, but ſtayed within at his prayers, and [...]o expection of what ſucceſs the Gods would give unto the Arms of Amaſis.

This man was a Chirurgion by profeſſions, rich in the ſecrets of Nature, but ſo very old that he could hardly ſtir out of his chamber; and being very charitable, he no ſooner heard the cries of Amerina, but he doubted the cauſe, and commanded ſome of his domeſtiques to take a light and ſee who it was: They were no ſooner in the ſtreet, but they brought back word, that ſhe who made the Lamentations was a very fair woman, and bewailed the loſſe of Ligdamon, whom ſhe held all bloody in her arms. At the name of Ligdamon the good old man changed colour, for he loved Ligdamon extreamly; yet recollecting himſelf, perhaps (ſaid he) that Cavalier is not quite dead: let him be brought hither unto me, for if there be any life, I hope by my remedies to prolong it. Upon this command, almoſt all that were in the houſe went out; aand whilſt they were preparing a bed to lay him upon, Lidias giving ſome ſignes of life, the Domeſticks laid him thereon, who heard Amerina ſigh extreamly, and ſhe hearing them ſigh and ſay ah Ligdamon, alas poor Ligdamon, ſhe hoped that as his name was the cauſe of Li [...]ias his wounds, it might, perhaps, be the cauſe of his cure. She reſolved therefore not to name him, but let them go on in their miſtake, and not to divert them from their charitable intentions of helping him; ſo as entring with him, and ſeeing what cure the old man had in getting him to bed, and to look upon his wounds, ſhe began to have ſome hopes in his aſſiſtance. Lidias was found not to be mortally wounded, though he had received four very great ones, two in his left arm very near his ſhoulder; one in his thigh, and one on his right hand, which could not be cured without the loſs of a finger.

As ſoon as the Chirurgeon had ſearched all theſe wounds, he came unto Amerina; and telling her how the wounds of Lidias were, he gave her aſſurance, that within a while he would be perfectly recovered: at which ſhe changed colour, and though ſhe was much diſordered in her dreſs, and bloody in ſeveral places, yet ſhe appeared ſo fair in the eyes of this charitable old man, that he could not chuſe but think the paſſage extreamly ſtrange, for he knew that Ligdamon was never married: And therefore upon the firſt opportunity he beſeeched her to tell him, from what relation did that love proceed which ſhe expreſſed unto Ligdamon▪ Amerina anſwered him, that in the condition wherein ſhe was, ſhe could not poſſibly ſatisfie his curioſity: beſides, the ſtory was ſuch, as ſhe could not tell it without bluſhing; but as ſoon as Ligdamon was a little better recovered, ſhe would entreat him to make a relation of it. This anſwer confirmed the man in his firſt opinion, and whetted his deſire of further ſatisfaction; yet being unwilling to be importunate, be ſeemed contented to ſtay until the Cavalier was better recovered; and indeed he began to mend in a few dayes, for a feaver not ſeizing upon him, and his greateſt harm proceeding from his exceſſive loſs of blood, it was no great difficulty to cure him; which Amerina perceiving, ſhe told him all that had hapned, and conjured him to continue the miſtake until he was perfectly recovered. Lidias therefore did perſonate Ligdamon as well as he could, and when the good old man deſired to know who Amerina was, he ingeciouſly told her name, and related all that ſhe her ſelf had related concerning the adventures of that Cavalier: the old man had heard ſomething of it; ſo as after he underſtood the whole truth, he was ſo well ſatisfied, as he thought himſelf ſufficiently recompenced for the cure which he had of his cure.

One day Amaſiel (for that was the name of the good old man) would needs go out to be preſent at a particular ſacrifice which Amaſis intended to offer, for the ſafe and ſoon return of Lindamor; and he took that liberty, the rather, becauſe [Page] Lidias began to walk up and down the chamber▪ ſo as ſuppoſing him to be paſt all danger, and ſtood in no need of his preſender he was carried [...]n a chair unto the Temple. Preſently after he was entred, Amaſis came alſo, waited upon by all the Nymphs and Ladies that were in Marc [...]lles; and with them came Godomar and all the gallantry of the Court. It was not long before good Amaſiel ſpied Ligdamon amongſt them, and this ſight did ſo much ſurprize him, conſidering the condition wherein he thought he left him, that he went as well unto him as he could, and ſeemed to be more then half angry. Ligdamon (ſaid he unto him) you are very undiſcreet in venturing your ſelf ſo ſoon abroad, and had I thought you would have come out of the houſe, I would not have ſtirred out: Ligdamon, who eſteemed this man very much, and had his age in great reverence, did anſwer him a in mild manner, and proteſted that he did not know what he ſaid: I ſay, replied the good Man, that your ſtriving to walk ſo much, may cauſe the wound which you have in your thigh to open again: upon this the Cavalier bethinking himſelf of all the wounds that ever he received, and not knowing any ſuch as he mentioned: I never had any wound in my thigh, replied he, and unleſs you better explain your ſelf, I ſhall not underſtand you.

Ligdamon ſpoke theſe few words in ſuch a ſtrange manner, that the Chirurgeon thought he would not acknowledge his wound, becauſe he would not acknowledge his obligation unto him for his cure, and wondering to find ſo much ingratitude in the ſoul of that Cavalier, whoſe generoſity was eſteemed by all the world: Sir (ſaid he unto him) the care which I have had of you deſerves a b [...]tter acknowledgement, but though you do not think me worthy ſo much as of thanks, yet I ſhall not loſe my reward; for the gods will accept of my good intentions. Upon this Amaſiel was ſilent, yet teſtified by his actions that he was a little diſconted, and Ligdamon not being able to imagine the cauſe: Amaſiel (ſaid he unto him) if I do not with all my hart deſire to ſerve you, may the gods puniſh me; but I do not know what you mean by theſe words, of wounds, of obligation, and of reward. I think (ſaid the old Man and interrupted him) that you either imagine me in a dream, or elſe would make me believe that I am mad. Can you deny that you have been eleven dayes in my houſe, and that I have dreſſed your four wounds, one in your thigh, another in your hand, and two in your arm? Now Ligdamon begun clearly to ſee the mans miſtake, and knew that it was Lidias whereof he ſpoke: therefore pulling off his gloves, and ſhewing his bare hands unto him: Father (ſaid he) do you ſee any ſuch wound in my hand? The old man caſting his eye upon the place where Lidias received his wound, and finding not ſo much as the leaſt ſcratch, he ſtood in a ſtrange confuſion; and Ligdamon beginning to ſpeak; bat Father (ſaid he) do not think your charity any worſe beſtowed: for you have helped a Cavalier who reſembles me; one who my name had like to have been his death, as his formerly had like to have been mine, being for him expoſed unto the fury of Lions: The good office which you have done unto him, ſhall be acknowledged by me as thankfully as if it were done unto my ſelf; after the Sacrifice is done, give me leave to go unto your houſe and viſit him, for I have longed to know what was become of him. Amaſiel heard all that Ligdamon ſaid, but he was not able to anſwer him a word, for his wonder had taken away the uſe of his tongue: one while he would caſt his eyes upon the face of Ligdamon, and fix them a long while together; and then upon a ſudden, he would take his hand, and wonder he could not find the wound which Ligdamon received. But the Sacrifice beginning, they were both forced to give over diſcourſe and fall to their prayers.

The Sacrifice was no ſooner ended but Ligdamon carried Amaſiel to his Coach, and went to his houſe; and Amerina no ſooner ſaw Ligdamon coming; but ſhe went to tell Lidias, who had ſuch an earneſt deſire to ſee him, and ſo glad to hear the news of his coming, that a freſh colour came into his cheek; ſo as Ligdamon no ſooner caſt his eye upon him, but he thought that he ſaw himſelf in a glaſs.

They were a long time in ſaluting and carrying each other, for Lidias knowing how much he was obliged unto that Cavalier for Amerinas ſake, thought he could [Page] not embrace and look upon him enough: yet at the laſt, falling into diſcourſe which touched them more nearly, Ligdamon related what Lipandas had done, when to ſatisfie the deſires of Melandre, he leaped over the walls, only to relieve Lidias. At the name of Melandre, Lidias and Amerina were both equally ſurprized; the one, for the ſecret obligations which he had unto that Fair one; and the other, by reaſon of ſuch ſparks of jealouſie which entred into her ſoul; which Ligdamon perceiving, I aſſure you (ſaid he) you muſt prepare your ſelf for a ſharp combate; for the love of Melandre unto Lidias is as violent as ever; and though Lipandas do all he can to divert her, yet he cannot do any good. Then Lidias, I aſſure my (ſelf anſwered he) that when Melandre knows what I have, promiſed unto the fair Amerina, ſhe will not wonder, that (as a Cavalier) I have obſerved what I was ſo ſolemnly and ſtrictly obliged unto. I believe (ſaid Amerina) that it is the beſt for us both not to let her know any thing, but to ſteal away out of her preſence, and accord all hazards that ſhe may attempt againſt us.

Unto this Lidias anſwered nothing and Ligdamon was almoſt of the ſame opinion: But for all the [...] deſires to put this in execution, it was not in their power, for the domeſtiques of Amaſiel, who talk [...] [...]f this unto ſeveral perſons, that the very ſame day almoſt all the Town knew of it: Melandre no ſooner heard this news, but ſhe made great complaints againſt Ligdamon, and as ſoon as ever ſhe could ſteal from Lipandas, who left her as little as poſſible he could, ſhe went unto the houſe of Amaſiel. In the way thither, her mind was full of various thoughts, ſomtimes ſhe fancied the contentment which ſhe ſhould have in ſeeing him, for whom ſhe ran ſo many dangerous fortunes: and otherwhiles thinking Amerina to be with him, ſhe had changed his mind, and was vexed at her apprehenſions of his infidelity. At laſt, after a long diſpute with her ſelf, ſhe came unto the chamber of Lidias; and not having quitted the habit of a Cavalier, ſhe was hardly known unto him. She found him upon his knees before Amerina, who ſitting upon her bed, held the head of her Lover in her lap; at which Melandre was ſo much offended, that being all anger and jealouſie, well, well, perfideous man (ſaid ſhe, pulling Lidias by the ſleeve of his doublet) are theſe any ſigns of that acknowledgement which you ought to give me? Upon this Lidias knew her, and roſe up to ſalute her: But ſhe puſhing him away, No, no (ſaid ſhe) continue on your ſubmiſſions unto that fair on; but ſhe ſhall not long enjoy the ſacrifices of ſervice which you offer unto her, for I have a way to be revenged of thy perfidy, and if heaven do deny me juſtice, I have courage enough to carve it out of my own deſpair. Upon this looking upon Amerina, and then upon Lidias, with an eye of extream diſcontent, ſhe went away, and would not give that Cavalier ſo much time, as to ſpeak one word. As ſoon as ever ſhe was out of the houſe, ſhe went ſtraight to the Caſtle, and never conſulting any further what to do, ſhe caſt her ſelf at the feet of Amaſis, and ſpoke thus unto her: Madam, That Juſtice which you have ſo happily executed, and never denied unto any, I do now emplore upon my bended knees, againſt the perfidie of a Cavalier, whom I conjure you to command that he may do me right and reaſon in your preſence; Our combate ſhall uſe no other Arms but the Laws; and if the ſight of his crime will bring him unto any repentance, I do proteſt I will preſently forgive him; however Madam, be you the Arbytrator of our differen [...] and when you have heard what we can ſay for our ſelves, I ſhall moſt willingly ſubmit unto your doom.

Then Melandre was ſilent: And the Nymph who took her for a Cavalier, and thought it better to take up the matter, then to let it proceed unto a quarrel, ſhe conſented unto her motion: So Lidias was ſent for by a Herauld, and commanded to appear that very hour before Amaſis. Amerina began preſently to ſuſpect the deſigne of Melandre, and told Lidias how much ſhe feared the loſs of his affection; but he aſſured her, that he would rather die a hundred deaths, then break thoſe firſt oaths which he had ſworn unto her.

All this was not ſo ſecret, but almoſt all the Court knew of it; ſo as when Lidias was brought before the Nymph, the chamber was full of Ladies and Cavaliers: Lipandas and Ligdamon were not then there; But Amerina who would not leave Lidias, entred almoſt as ſoon as he, and placed her ſelf amongſt the women.

[Page]The Herald had no ſooner commanded ſilence, but Amaſis told the ſad Cavalier, that ſhe was ready to hear him; whereupon Melandre after an humble reverence, began thus.

I know Madam, that it would become me better to bluſh and be ſilent, then to ſpeak, ſince the habit wherein I am, which is as contrary unto my ſex as my humour, doth accuſe me of impudence, before the moſt vertuous Princeſs of all the Univerſe: But ſince nothing can better condemn Lidias, nor convince him of ingratitude, then the ſame Arms and habit wherewith I made him owe his life unto me; I do moſt humbly beſeech you Madam, to pardon me, for not leaving them off, and for making uſe of them, to reproach him with the greateſt infidelity that ever any Cavalier uſed. Perhaps Madam, the various adventures of my life, are as well known unto your Highneſs, as unto my ſelf, for Clidemant had the relation of them from me; but if neither he nor Lindamore ever writ any the particulars unto you, I have great cauſe to lament the death of the one, and the abſence of the other, ſince by them you might have known how much Lidias is obliged unto me, and what right and reaſon I have to pretend unto [...]is affection. Upon this ſhe made a ſtop, to wipe away th [...]e tears which the memory of Clidemants death did bring into her eyes, and gave the Nymph time to do the ſame; afterwards ſhe went on thus.

They could have told you, Madam, when Lidias was forced to fly for his life, and when the kinred of Aronthes, whom he had killed, would not let him live in any place of the world, my houſe was his ſafe ſanctuary: I had at that time a greater regard of his honour then of my own; for not being able to avoid thoſe wounds which he gave me, I was at laſt forced to imitate the goodneſs of my father, and give him the ſame entertainment in my heart, which my father gave him in his houſe: It was not long before this wavering minded man became maſter both of the one and the other: but almoſt the very ſame day that he let me know he loved, the very ſame day alſo he aſſured me of his treaſon: The truth is, he quickly caſt me off, and to make his crime the more enormous, he left me, without ſo much as bidding me a civil adieu. I will not ſpeak of my reſentments, becauſe I ſhall make us both bluſh; him at his crime, and me at my follies: let me only tell you, that at that inſtant, I forgot what I was, and changing my habit and my name, I reſolved to overcome all thoſe horrors which fear commonly imprints in the ſoul of a woman: I left then all my Parents, and G [...]d knows how much againſt my mind I committed this abſurdity: But at laſt overcoming all the difficulties of a journey, and all the injuries of weather, after a thouſand rubs of fortune, I undertook to fight with Lipandas, thinking it no matter by what hand I died, ſo it might be in the preſence of this perfideous man.

If thou haſt any ſpark of memory, Lidias, of thoſe dangers whereunto I expoſed my ſelf, and of the favours which I ſhewed unto thee, thou wouldeſt confeſs that this young Beauty which is now an occaſion of my jealouſie, and an argument of thy inconſtancy, never had the courage to defend thee as I have done. But that is not the greateſt obligation wherewith I will charge thee; and if thou beeſt unwilling I ſhould name it unto thee left thy crime ſhould have too many witneſſes, ask ſecretly thoſe chains which fettered my arms and feet, which I aſſumed upon my ſelf to releaſe thee: Ask the Vermin of that place where I was impriſoned, whether my ſorrows for thy departure were not blacker unto me then the darkneſs which environ'd me: Conſult with the walls, and if thou beeſt not deaf to their anſwers, as thou art now unto my love, thou mayeſt underſtand the quality of my ſufferings, and how more ſad I was at thy ſin then at my own miſery: But Madam (ſaid ſhe, and turned towards Amaſis) to expreſs how my Lidias is obliged unto me, is to expreſs the whole courſe of my life, for I have ſworn a thouſand times that I would never live a minute longer then I loved him: Nay, let him ſpeak himſelf, for if he have any memory of my favours, it is impoſſible but he muſt needs confeſs himſelf wholly mine: You may perceive Madam by his ſilence, how faint he is to excuſe himſelf and his inconſtancy; and I moſt humbly beſeech you, to declare that he in right belongs unto me, and that if there be any glory to be gotten by poſſeſſing him, that it cannot be denied unto me, ſince he is obliged unto me for his life and liberty.

[Page]This was the diſcourſe of Melandre, which was hearkened unto with a univerſal murmure, ſome admired her courage; others the Grandure of her love; but all did abhor the humour of Lidias, and thought it impoſſible for him ever to waſh off that ſtain of ingratitude, yet when the noiſe of the murmure was ceaſed, Lidias in all humility bowed unto the Nymph, and offered to ſpeak; but Amerina, into whom the diſcourſe of Melandre had infuſed ſome new fears of loſing Lidias, ſhe advanced, and begging leave to ſpeak uttered theſe words.

It is very juſt, Madam, that I do prevent Lidias, and before the ſentence, on which my life or death doth depend be pronounced, I do ſhew legitimately the poſſeſſion of this Cavalier, be granted unto me before Melandre. I cannot deny but that ſhe hath done even miracles for him, but I muſt tell you that all her actions are nothing in compariſon of mine; and that if I could ſurmount her in merit as much as I do in love, the diſpute about him would be quickly determined: the only advantage which ſhe can boaſt of above me is, that ſhe was not ſo miſtaken as I was; and that the teſtimonies of her love were given unto Lidias, where mine was given unto Ligdamon; but why ſhould that fallacy prejudice my cauſe, ſince the grandure of my affection is ſtill apparent, and has given all the teſtimonies of a moſt inviolable faith? You know very well courageous Melandre, that I was the firſt unto whom that Cavalier did ſacrifice his liberty; ſo as when he ſeemed to put his heart into your hands, he did but deceive your innocency, ſince he never did take it back out of mine: you may happily tell me that his oathes are too many, and too great to be broken; but why ſhould they not be broken, rather then thoſe he has ſworn unto me ten thouſand times? I confeſſe that he ows his life unto you; but if he take what I did unto Ligdamon as done unto him, he muſt needs ſay, that when I delivered him from a den of ravenous Lions, he is alſo a debtour unto me for his life: and I muſt tell you, that I have done more for him then you have; for when you ventured your life in a hopes of overcoming, I looked upon death as inevitable, when I pledged Ligdamon in the cup wherewith he intended to poyſon himſelf; ſo as I have the glory to ſay, that I dared to do more then you, who never ventured further then the hazard of a private duel: But great Nymph (continued ſhe and turned towards Amaſis) ſince as they ſay, the firſt inclinations are moſt ſtrong, what right hath this fair one to pretend unto Lidias, ſince he had ſo long ſince devoted himſelf unto me, and ſince at this very day, his paſſion does conſent unto his firſt ſervitude? If Lidias had two hearts, I would conſent ſhe ſhould have the one, and that ſhe ſhould dictate ſuch laws unto him as ſhe would have him obſerve; but ſince he has but one, and ſince his firſt promiſes has given me the abſolute Empire over him, is it not moſt fit ſhe ſhould deſiſt from her enterpriſe, and leave purſuing a thing which my love cannot yield unto her?

Amerina uſed other arguments to ſet forth the juſtice of her cauſe, but Amaſis ſeeing Melandre about to reply, did ordain that the diviſion of the controverſie, ſhould meerly depend upon the will of Lidias, and to that end gave him all that night to weigh the reaſon on both ſides, and that neither of them ſhould ſee him, until he had declared his ultimate judgement: ſo every one retired; and Melandre being extreamly aſhamed to be ſeen in the habit of a Man, after ſhe had declared her ſex, ſhe took the offer of Galathea, and being dreſſed in ſome of her clothes, ſhe fully reſolved never to ſtir out of the Caſtle, but either to marry Lidias, or elſe to go out of the world.

Lidias in the mean time returned to the houſe of good Amaſiel, and Adamas took the care of Amerina upon him; but do what he could, he was not able to diſſolve that ſadneſs which appeared in all her actions and countenance: he offered himſelf a thouſand times to ſerve her upon all occaſions, but ſhe ſtill told him, that the only office which could oblige her, was to make Lidias hers: The Druide offered his aſſiſtance in that, and this made the young fair one ſo confident as to ſay unto him thus: I do conjure you father, by that which is moſt ſacred and dear unto you to contrive it ſo, that I may diſcourſe with Melandre in private: this is all the conſolation that I ask, and if I obtain it, I ſhall more eaſily ſupport [Page] any misfortune Adamas conceiving that this might eaſily be done, and that there was no inj [...]ſtice in the deſire, he went the ſame hour unto Melandre, and made the propoſition unto her: That generous woman conſented unto his deſire, and offered to go unto her; but the Druide not knowing whether Amerina would be pleaſed with that, he thought it better that he ſtayed in her chamber, and undertook to bring Amerina unto her: which he did; ſo as making them both to promiſe that nothing ſhould paſſe in their diſcourſe which might make his mediatourſhip to be imputed unto him as a crime, he went out and left them alone: he was no ſooner gone out but Amerina ſhut the door, and ſpoke thus unto Melandre.

Do not wonder generous Melandre, that I ſhould ſtand in fear of the judgement of Lidias; for your own merit is the cauſe of it; and I know that unleſs he be blind he cannot prefer my beauty before yours: you are owner of ſo many eminent qualities above me, that I am forced to beg that from your pity, which my own merit can never obtain: I know very well that my demand is high, when I ask this Cavalier; but then conſider, that if you grant him unto me, you do render your glory and my obligation to be extream: I am ſure, fair Melandre, that you know very well how due this recompence is unto pains, and that my many years ſufferings deſerves no leſs reward: If you tell me, that you may pretend unto him by the ſame title, and that you have endured as much as I, conſider I beſeech you, that your courage, which is naturally prompt unto great things, was never put unto ſo much difficulty as mine, whoſe inclination never reached above that of a ſilly woman, and who never durſt attempt any thing, if love had not uſed a particular violence upon me. Again, diſcreet Melandre, you have many perſons here about you, the poſſeſſion of whom will be no leſs glorious unto you, then if you enjoyed Lidias, and will be a Fortune as advantageous unto you: Wheas if I do loſe what I do expect from the inclination of that Cavalier, I am utterly undone; left deſolately alone, far from my native countrey, deſtitute of all humane help, and, perhaps, abandoned to the mercy of ſome raviſher who will triumph over me, and has none to defend me from any violence: I do conjure you therefore, even by Lidias himſelf, not to deny me this comfort which I begg; and conſider, that if you have ſo much pity as to yield unto me this, upon which all my joy and felicity does depend, I ſhall not be ſo ungrateful, as for your ſervice, to loſe that life which you ſhall preſerve.

Amerina expreſſed her ſelf in ſuch a ſweet obliging manner, that Melandre was exceedingly moved: and had not love been abundantly predominate above her compaſſion, ſhe had at that very inſtant granted unto this fair one that contentment which ſhe asked, and ſeemed to merit. Yet her own intereſt being above that of Amerinas, ſhe pauſed a while, and ſtudied what to anſwer: at laſt ſhe broke out thus.

The gods be witneſſes, fair Amerina, I am extreamly grieved that I cannot render you this contentment which you ask: for pities ſake put your ſelf into my room, and tell me what you would do if I ſhould make the ſame ſupplication unto you? If you do love Lidias above your own life, would you not rather die then ſuffer another to enjoy him? but alas, I am extreamly afraid left that misfortune befal me, and that his judgement will be advantageous unto you: for I muſt yield unto you in all thoſe qualities, wherein you think I have the advantage above you. But however this is my deſigne, ſage Amerina, to wait upon that judgement which he ſhall pronounce: do not think it is any want of affection unto you, which moves me not to yield that happineſs which you deſire: for command me to attempt things even impoſſible, nay even to die for your contentment, and I proteſt I will do it, ſo my love unto Lidias may be excuſed.

This was all the anſwer that Melandre gave, at which Amerina was ſo ſtung, that ſhe was not able to ſtay any longer with her; after, therefore, a civil adiew, ſhe went away in ſuch a dejected manner, as it was apparent ſhe was not all ſatisfied: by Fortune, as ſhe went out ſhe met Adamas, and went with him unto his houſe, beſeeching him to let her go to bed without any ſupper, or being ſeen [Page] by any. The Druido would hardly conſent unto it; yet to ſatisfie her importunity, he permitted her to do as ſhe would. All the night long ſhe never cloſed an eye, and though the laſt teſtimonies which ſhe received of the love of Lidias was a great ſubject of conſolation unto her, yet ſhe could not chuſe but fear, and extreamly afflict her ſelf, as oft as ſhe thought upon the promiſes which he had made unto Melandre: The remembrance of this, forced ſome tears to trickle down from her eyes, and afterwards to fall into a thouſand dangerous reſolutions. The laſt of which, and upon which her mind fixed was, not to ſuffer that her Rival ſhould ever tryumph over Lidias; ſo as to prevent that, ſhe intended to arm her ſelf with a poniard, which ſhe would wear under her Gown; and in caſe the ſentence was pronounced in the favour to Melandre, ſhe vowed to kill her, afterwards Lidias, and laſtly her ſelf.

Lidias for his part was as much diſquieted as they; all his obligations unto Melandre came into his memory, and ſwelled his ſoul with ſuch lively apprehenſion of them, as he thought he could not chuſe but ſatisfie her deſires, unleſs he ſuffered himſelf to be branded with extream ingratitude. On the other ſide, his vows unto the fair Amerina had ſuch an influence upon him, and the merits of both held him in ſuch an inequality, as he knew not which of them to chuſe or reject: Lipandas alſo received ſuch a hot alarm when he heard of the paſſages at the houſe of Amaſis, that he would never let Ligdamon be at reſt, but forced him to accompany him unto the Caſtle, where he ſo expreſſed his paſſion unto Melandre, that if he did not move her unto any love, yet he moved her at the leaſt unto pity.

The hour when they were all to appear before Amaſis was no ſooner come, but all the Court aſſembled there, eſpecially the Lovers, but with very different thoughts and reſolutions: Lidias endeavoured to oblige Amerina without offending Melandre; Amerina was afraid that Lidias would not be favourable unto her, and therefore prepared to execute her diſmal deſigne: But Melandre being more confident then any of the reſt, before Lidias was commanded to ſpeak, did caſt her ſelf at the feet of Amaſis, with theſe expreſſions. It is to believed Madam, that every one will wonder that after ſo violent a purſuit of a happineſs, I ſhould now deprive my ſelf of all hopes therein; but if they will be pleaſed to take ſo much pains as to conſider the reaſons which induce me thereunto, doubtleſs they will rather commend then condemn me.

At the firſt Madam, I was in hopes to enjoy Lidias without any prejudice unto Amerina, whoſe affection does merit to be preſerved; but now if I do voluntarily yield unto her an advantage which perhaps ſhe may obtain in ſpite of me, I ſhall ſo oblige her, as I believe that her affection unto me will be for ever immutable: And ſince Madam, though Lidias ſhould give his judgement in favour of me, he would ſtill be guilty of breaking thoſe oaths which he hath ſworn unto this fair one; and though he ſhould be favourable unto her, he could never clear himſelf of infidelity unto me; ſo as Madam, either Amerina or Melandre muſt of their own motion quit the intereſt which they have in this affection: Therefore ſince the Gods have inſpired me with the deſire of it, and have now given me the courage, I do intend never to give Lidias any cauſe to hate me, but will for ever love him only in the degree of a Brother. I beſeech you therefore Madam, to let them enjoy that contentments which fortune hath many years denied them, and which now I do moſt earneſtly wiſh unto them: Thrice happy ſhall I think my ſelf in contributing any thing to their contentment. Upon this Melandre was ſilent, and made an humble reverence unto the Nymph.

All the company admired to hear this language proceed from her; but above all, Lidias and Amerina; who ſeeing themſelves at a higher pitch of felicity then ere they expected, made an humble reverence unto Amaſis; and after they had asked leave to thank Melandre, they expreſſed themſelves unto her with all teſtimonies of acknowledgement and affection.

This being done, Amaſis offered to riſe, but was hindred by Ligdamon, who holding Lipandas by the hand, and preſenting him unto the Nymph, beſeeched her to determine ſomthing for the ſatisfaction of that Cavalier: Lipandas caſt [Page] himſelf down upon his knees, and after a relation of his love and adventures, beſeeched her to diſpoſe the will of Melandre to receive him into the room of Lidias. Amaſis found ſo much Juſtice in the deſire, that ſhe made the propoſition unto Melandre, who after ſome modeſt refuſal, remembring what he had done for her upon ſeveral occaſions, eſpecially when to relieve Lidias, he leaped down the walls of Marcelles, ſhe obeyed the commands of the Nymph, and granted the deſires of Ligdamon.

Thus theſe four Lovers did in one hour reap the fruit of all the pains which Love and Fortune had made them endure: Theſe two marriages were conſummated before the Truce was ended; and in the mean time, Lindamore loſt no opportunities of advancing his Troops and having met with Phil [...]nder, who acquainted him with the affairs of Amaſis, and the intentions of Gondebaut againſt her, he determined not to go into Lions, but to croſs over the Rhoſue about half a league from them, and the next morning to go unto Vienna.

On the other ſide, Gondebaut who thirſted to be revenged upon Amaſis for the affronts which he had, as he conceived, received from her, and being preſſed by Ligonias, who every minute preſented unto him the inconve [...]iences which would happen in caſe Polemas was not relieved according to promiſe, he iſſued out his Commiſſions, and raiſed thirty and two thouſand men, which he committed unto the conduct of Ligonias, with command unto all the Officers to obey Polemas, unto whom he writ this Letter.

GONDEBAUTS Letter unto POLEMAS.

I Have ſent thirty and two thouſand men unto Polemas, not out of any ambition to enlarge the limits of my Empire, but only out of a deſire to raiſe his glory unto the higheſt pitch of glory that he can wiſh. I have made choice of ſuch Souldiers for him, as beſt know how to obey, from whom I do expect even wonders to be done, being under the conduct of a man who knows moſt perfectly how to command them. But how great ſo ever the victories be which they ſhall get, they are ſtill leſs then the hopes I have in your courage, the Grandeur whereof may aſſure any one of the conqueſt of the world, if he will be pleaſed to employ it. Fight therefore preſently, brave Polemas, or rather vanquiſh preſently; for I know, that with you, to fight, and to overcome, is one and the ſame thing.

Whilſt affairs went thus, Sigiſmond had but a very dull time of it; Gondebaut had locked him up in a ſtrong Tower, the better to ſecure his perſon, it being doubted, that if he were at liberty, he would not have ſuffered any deſigns to be againſt Amaſis, Godomar, or Dorinde, without oppoſing it with all his Intereſt. Thus this Prince thought his detention inſupportable; for hearing of this Armies departure, he was ſenſible of the danger wherein his Brother was; he was ſo extreamly diſpleaſed that he was not able to help himſelf, that all thoſe who ſaw him, might read in his countenance the marks of a moſt violent ſorrow: At laſt, heaven who reſerved him for a more glorious end then to languiſh in priſon, did permit him to make an eſcape in this manner.

Amongſt thoſe whom Gondebaut had ſet over him to prevent his eſcape, there was two kinſmen of Ardilan, who alſo carried the ſame name; the one of which finding more favour with the King then the o [...]her, he had obtained the ſole donation of his deceaſed Cofin; which the other extreamly ſtomaking, yet not daring to murmure at the injuſtice which was done him, he reſolved to be revenged by favouring Sigiſmond, and freeing him from the Tyrannie of his father. He made the overture of it unto him, the ſame morning that the Army was drawn into the field; and Sigiſmond being confident of his fidelity, ſince (ſaid he unto him) you do offer me your aſſiſtance, and your own good will hath prevented my requeſts, [Page] I do ſwear by all that's ſacred, that if you do help me to eſcape, to raiſe thy fortune above any Subject in all the Kingdome, but be ſure you fail me not, for if thou doſt deceive me, I will moſt infallibly be thy utter ruine. Upon this the Prince began to walk up and down the chamber, and the young Ardilan fearing leſt ſome ſhould hearken at the door, he came nearer and ſaid unto him in a low voice: You never need Sir to doubt either of my affection or my fidelity, and I will contrive the matter with ſo much prudence, as if it ſhall not miſcarry. As ſoon as he had ſaid ſo, the hour which Ardilan was to ſtay with him was expired, and he quitted his place unto another who came for the ſame purpoſe: he was no ſooner gone, but to loſe no time, he provided one of thoſe ſmall boats, which they uſed upon the River Arar, and alſo providing two Fiſhermens habits, ſome nets, and a rope long enough to reach from the Tower where Sigiſmond was detained; and at the entrance of the night, he carried them himſelf unto the Princes chamber, where he was to watch that night with one of his Comrades: Sigiſmond was no ſooner in bed, but he ſeemed as if he were aſleep, and Ardilan who alſo brought a great bottle of wine with him, did ſo entertain his companion, that he was conſtrained to truſt the keeping of the Prince unto him: ſo ſoon as Ardilan perceived his Comrade to be ſo faſt aſleep that he could not be awaked, he pulled the Fiſhers habits out of a ſack, and putting one of them on, beſeeched the Prince to put on the other; then faſtning the rope to the window, they both wen [...] down by the rope without any noiſe. As ſoon as they were down, Ardilan carried him to the boat, and throwing their nets into the water with more fear of being taken then deſire to take, they came unto the chains which croſſed over the water juſt as day began to dawn, and they ſtayed not long before they were opened unto them; ſo as rowing as faſt as ever they could they entred preſently into the Rhoſne, whoſe impetuous current was ſuch, that it carried them to Vienna in leſſe then three hours.

When Ardilans companion awaked, and did not ſee his Comrade, he ran preſently to the Princes bed, and not finding him neither, he went to the window, where finding the rope, he concluded that they were eſcape, and diſputed with himſelf whether it was not his beſt courſe to eſcape alſo: at laſt conſidering, that if he ſhould be taken, he ſhould be puniſhed as a complice, he choſe rather to rely upon his innocency, then run the hazard of being thought culpable: he began therefore to cry out as loud as he could, and ſhewed unto the firſt that came unto him the marks of Sigiſmonds flight. Gondebaut was quickly advertiſed of it, and coming himſelf unto the place, he ſaw the Princes and Ardilans clothes lying together upon the bed; but this made no excuſe for him whoſe office it was to watch them, and he ſwore that he ſhould preſently be hanged; but when he ſaw the rope, and conſidered that if the man had been culpable, he might eaſily have eſcaped alſo, he turned all his anger againſt the young Ardilan, and preſently proclaimed throughout the Town, that if any one could bring him either alive or dead, he would give unto him a large pention for his life; but all inquiſition was to no purpoſe, for they were already got into Vienna, and it fell out very happily for them, that Lindamare came thither that morning.

Their entrance into the Town was after a pleaſant manner, for having left their boat at the port, they came into the firſt houſe they found open, and asked for ſomething to eat; and being thought to be Fiſher-men, very homely victuals was ſet before them, ſuch as were enough to turn the ſtomach of the Prince: but Ardilan, who had rowed very hard, and never ſlept all the night, did fall abord with ſuch a ſharp appetite, that Sigiſmond after his example did taſte ſuch courſe food as he found. During their repaſt the Prince was very inquiſitive after the news of the Town, and left their hoſt ſhould think it ſtrange, that any in ſuch habits as they ſhould enquire after news, the Prince told him that they came from Lions to ſell their fiſh in Vienna: for Gondebauts Souldiers took up all proviſions in their countrey, and never payed the owners for them; and therefore they came away with their boat, to ſee what money they could get for their fiſh in that place: The Hoſt told him that they were come in a very good time: for there was newly come to Town one Lindamor, whoſe valour was very famous, and [Page] brought with him four or five hundred Noble men, beſides four thouſand Souldiers. I have (ſaid Sigiſmond) three or four fiſhes of a ſtrange bigneſs, and I believe they would very willingly buy them, if I knew how to let them know as much. Alas poor fellow (anſwered the Hoſt) doſt thou think ſuch men as they uſe to go unto the Market as we do? No, no, they have ſervants and officers that take care for ſuch things, and thy fiſh, perhaps, ſhall be bought and ſold before thou ever ſee any of them, or they know any thing of them. So I have money for my fiſh (replied Sigiſmond and ſmiled) I do not care, and ſilver is as good from the hand of a ſervant as from the Maſter: Well (ſaid the Hoſt) I will carry thee to their houſe where thou maiſt ſpeak with ſome of their ſervants, and to tell thee truly, I have a great deſire to ſee this man they call Lindamor, for I have heard tell ſuch wonders of him, that I can hardly believe he is like unto other men.

Sigiſmond could not chuſe but laugh at the conceit of this man, and calling to memory all that he had heard of Lindamor, I had a conceit that his return from Childerick, was purpoſely to aſſiſt Amaſis againſt the attempts of Polemas. Thinking therefore that his beſt courſe was to joyn with him, he and Ardilan deſired the Hoſt to conduct them unto his lodging. As ſoon as they came there, the Prince deſired to ſpeak with Lindamor, and becauſe he ſaw they made ſome difficulty of it, he told them that he had ſome buſineſſe of importance to impart, which Lindamor would be very glad to know. This man unto whom he addreſſed himſelf, finding more in the aſpect of Sigiſmond then uſually is in the common ſort of people, and thinking him better then his clothes promiſed, alſo remembring how Philiander got out of Marcelles, he did imagine that happily he might be one that came from the Nymph; ſo as without any more ceremony he carried him up a back ſtairs towards the chamber of Lindamor; and leaving him there at the ſtair head with Ardilan, who knew not what would be the iſſue of this viſit, he went and told Lindamor that there was two men in the habit of Fiſhermen, the one of which ſaid that he had ſome buſineſſe of conſequence to impart. Lindamor pretending ſome diſpatches in his cloſet, he left the company and came to the place where Sigiſmond ſtayed. As ſoon as ever the Prince ſaw him he liked his countenance and behaviour, as indeed, Lindamor had a very charming way & mind to win love; and ſaluting the Prince very affably, he returned the ſalute in a way more ſutable to his quality then habit, Sir (ſaid he unto Lindamor) I come to acquaint you with an accident which happened in Lions of which we have been witneſſes, and in ſome ſort Complices: which is, that the Prince Sigiſmond hath eſcaped out of that priſon where his father detained him, and we have brought him away in our little boat, without any other company but one man who eſcaped with him.

Lindamor had hardly patience to let him ſpeak out theſe laſt words, for clapping his hands together, and lifting up his eyes to heaven, bleſſed be the great gods of heaven (ſaid he) for delivering him from ſuch great injuſtice: In ſaying ſo ſome tears of joy eſcaped from his eyes, which pleaſed the Prince ſo well, that he was ready to diſcover himſelf immediatly: yet deferring it a little longer, Sir (continued he) we heard him often by the way name you, yet not knowing (as I think) that you were ſo near him: ſo as at our arival here, hearing of your return and where you lodged, we thought it would be welcome news unto you, to the end, that whether he be your friend or your enemy, you might make what uſe you pleaſdd of it.

Dear friend (ſaid Lindamor unto him) I give thee hearty thanks, and I will and I will recompence thee very well before we part, for this good news; but I pray thee tell me where he is, that I may go unto him and kiſſe his hands. Sir (replied the Prince and ſhrugged his ſhoulders) he landed on the other ſide of the Rhoſne, and I am afraid he is taken horſe to go unto his brother in Marcellos, for we heard him ſay he intended it. O heavens (ſaid Lindamor and ſtamped upon the ground) how unhappy ſhall I eſteem my ſelf if I do not ſerve upon this occaſion he commanded to make ready horſes with all poſſible haſte, and intended to follow him immediately; yet being deſirous to reward thoſe that gave him this intelligence; [Page] he commanded to give them a good ſum of money, and after many hearty thanks would have diſmiſſed them; but Sigiſmond, who was much delighted at hit trouble and impatiency, Sir (ſaid he unto him) we moſt humbly beſeech you to let us wait upon you in your journey, perhaps we may be a means of your ſooner finding him: Lindamor, whoſe mind was more upon ſomething elſe then heeding what he ſaid, was a long while before he anſwered; at laſt, alas (ſaid he) it will be a long while before we provide boats for you both; beſides you do not know what a deal of difference there is between riding a horſe and rowing a boat: upon this he would have gone out, and Sigiſmond, not being able to hold any longer, Sir, ſaid he, there needs neither boats or boat, nor any horſes to meet with him whom you deſire to ſee, ſince Sigiſmond is already very near you: As he ſaid this, he embraced him, at which Lindamor was ſo ſurprized, that he knew not what to ſay: and upon a better ſurvey he found ſo much Majeſty under the cloud of that poor habit, as he found his errour; yet not to perſiſt any longer in it he kneeled down, and all the Princes entreaties could not make him riſe until he had obtained that pardon, which the Prince ſaid he was rather to ask for deceiving him ſo long. Their firſt complements being ended, the Prince went to bed, during which time order was taken for ſome clothes ſutable to his quality, and Lindamor yielded his chamber unto him, giving it out that he was troubled with the head-ake, purpoſely to prevent viſits, and to have the better opportunity of diſcourſing upon the affairs of the Nymph: ſo the Prince wa [...] no ſooner got into bed, but he deſired Lindamor to ſit down by him, and then began to ſpeak thus unto him.

This picture (ſaid he, and opened a caſe ſet with very rich ſtone, which he wore about his Neck) will tell you that Dorinde is partly the cauſe of all Gondebauts disorders: That fair one whoſe Image you ſee, and whoſe perfections are ſo great, as no Painter in the Univerſe is able to imitate, hath ſo captivated the mind of my father, that he is fallen into ſuch extravagancies, as indeed are unworthy a man of his quality: When his affection was firſt known unto me, I was in ſuch fears that he would marry her, that I reſolved to be as great an obſtacle unto it as I could. The firſt courſe that came into my fancy was, to ſeem as if I were in Love with her; but oh how dangerous a thing it is to jeſt with matters of Love! for a little after I became ſo deſperately loſt in a real Love of her, that I cannot believe ever any paſſion was ſo violent as mine; but however, my firſt deſigne of ruining the pretenſions of my father, did prevail; for whether that fair one did think my age more ſutable unto hers, and found more ſympathy in our humours, or whether ſhe thought the Kings intention was not ſo honeſt as he pretended; but ſo it was, that I gained her affection, and after the death of her father, I perſwaded her to go into Forreſts, where I intended to follow: but I was ſo much interrupted, that all I could do, was, to ſend my brother thither; who after ſeveral encounters, carried her into Marcelles, where now they are. Now the perſwaſions of Polemas, who promiſed to hold that eſtate meerly of my father, and my fathers deſire to be revenged upon Amaſis, who took them into her protection, has cauſed him to declare war againſt that Princeſs, and no longer ſince then yeſterday, ſent above thirty thouſand men unto Polemas: But leſt I ſhould engage my ſelf in this quarrel, which was partly begun upon my ſcore, the King ſhut me up in a Tower, out of which I eſcaped by the aſſiſtance of this man, whom you ſee diſguiſed as I am, and now am come unto you, to act ſomthing that is glorious unto Amaſis and Dorinde.

Lindamore was joyed beyond all expreſſion at the diſcourſe of Sigiſmond, and proteſting that he could not better employ his arms; then in defence of that Princeſs, he beſeeched him to make all the haſte he could to do her that favour: Firſt (ſaid the Prince) I conceive one thing is expedient to be done, which is, that we employ four of your men who are leaſt known, two of them to go and divulge it in Lions, that I am in Viena, and the other two to get into that Army which Gondebaut ſends unto Polemas: and this will be the conſequence of it; I have many friends in Lions, who will not value the Kings diſpleaſure, ſo they can but ſerve me, and follow my fortune; and I dare confidently ever, that almoſt all the Nobility [Page] are for me: Moſt certain it is, that as ſoon as ever they know where I am, they will make preparations to ſerve me, and will follow me: As for thoſe who are in the Army which my father hath ſent unto Polemas, certainly ſome are for me, and thoſe that are, will draw others, ſo as I expect a good party will revolt, and come unto me.

Lindamore approved of this deſigne, and that very hour diſpatched away four ſuch as he moſt truſted, and giving them all requiſite inſtructions, he returned unto Sigiſmond, and ſaid thus unto him, I do verily believe Sir, that the Gods do intend to be very favourable unto Amaſis, and are reſolved to free her very ſuddenly from all manner of oppreſſions, ſince they proceed by ways that are even miraculous: For in your diſcourſe, I obſerve ſome extraordinary paſſages: As the flight of Dorinde, the voyage of Prince Godomar, and the intereſt which you have both in him and her, makes much for the advantage of that afflicted Princeſs. Philander ſpoke of a certain Queen called Argira, who came not long ſince about the cure of a Cavalier called Roſilion; he told me alſo, that ſhe left behind her a daughter very fair, with a promiſe to ſend for her by an Army ſtrong enough to reſiſt all the power of any enemies. For my part, I thought that I could not die more gloriouſly, then in the ſervice of her, unto whom I owe my life, and all I have, and therefore reſolved to force my way into the Town, with thoſe ſouldiers that I brought with me, and afterwards defend it to the laſt. Your reſolution is moſt commendable (ſaid Sigiſmond) and I aſſure my ſelf, you might effect it, for there is no greater danger in it, then formerly your valour hath encountred withal, and gloriouſly executed; but you muſt know, that as the ſtate of the Town is at the preſent, it is not in any neceſſity of either your or my being there: My brother writ me word at the beginning of the ſiege, that there are ſo many brave Cavaliers in it, and I believe Philander told me as much, that without any aſſiſtance, they could defend it for two moneths; and ſince ſo, it is much better for us to make up a Body wherewith we may keep the field, and as we ſee occaſions, either give battel, or enter into the Town.

Lindamore thought this advice ſo good, that he reſolved to follow it; the only difficulty that he found in it, was, left Gondebauts Army joyning with Polemas, before they had formed a conſiderable body, ſhould violently fall upon them; and therefore he propounded it unto the Prince, whether it was not beſt to advance a little forward with thoſe men he had, to amuſe the enemy, whilſt he ſtayed in Vienna, to receive thoſe men who came to take his part. The Prince anſwered, that it was very neceſſary ſo to do: And upon this reſolution, Lindamore ſpent the reſt of the day in giving orders for their departure, as in the morning he did, with all his forces.

The ſame day, thoſe that Lindamore ſent unto Lions, arrived there; who having told unto five or ſix perſons that Sigiſmond was in Vienna all the Town knew of it before it was night. Gondebaut was vexed at it to the very ſoul; and doubtleſs if he had not ſent away all his Forces, he would have beſieged him there: for his humour was barbarous enough to prompt unto any violent reſolution. But on the other ſide, moſt of the Nobility and Cavalry of the Town were ſo joyed at the news, that they ſpent all the night in nothing but preparing themſelves to go unto the Prince in the morning. The King, whoſe paſſion had blinded his judgement, and who never feared any harm could happen unto him, did permit the Gates of the Town to be opened, for they had been ſhut ever ſince he heard of Sigiſmonds flight; ſo as there went out ſeveral ways no leſs, then five thouſand men, who the ſame day came unto the Prince. The next day after he went to joyn with Lindamore, who had appointed Boen for his Rendezvouz.

In the mean time Gondebauts Army was advanced within a little of ſeeing the walls of Marcelles: Polemas who was ſwelled with joy, and proud with the title of General over ſuch a puiſſant Army, did promiſe unto himſelf no leſs then the conqueſt of Galathea, and went half a days journey to meet theſe Auxiliaries: There he received Gondebauts letter, which he kiſſed two or three times; and having received the oath of Fidelity from all the Captains, he ſwore that the greateſt intereſt that he had in this war, was only for the glory of Gondebaut. After this [Page] he made a ſpeech unto the Souldiers, in which he omitted nothing that might move them to fight valiantly; and got ſo much credit and authority amongſt them, that there was not one amongſt them all which was not very glad to be under his command. And laſtly, being deſirous to know certainly of what number this new come Army conſiſted, he wondered to find of thirty two thouſand not above four or five and twenty thouſand; for the reſt had disbanded themſelves as ſoon as ever they heard of Sigiſmonds intention.

As this was prejudicial unto Polemas, ſo it was ſerviceable unto Sigiſmond, who in leſs then three days, found himſelf ſixteen or ſeventeen thouſand ſtrong compriſing thoſe which Lindamore brought from Childerick.

Roſilion on his ſide, he made all the haſte that poſſibly he could; for his love unto Roſanira, was ſuch a ſpur unto him, that he could not reſt until he had given ſome ſignal teſtimony of his valour; ſo as he was within a days march as near Marcelles as the Burgundian Troops.

The Truce was to end the next morning; ſo as the retardment of Roſilion, the arrival of theſe forces unto Polemas; and no intelligence of Lindamores return, did put Amaſis into a moſt extream perplexity: ſhe knew nothing of Fleurial and Philianders ſucceſs, ſo as ſhe grew even deſperate of all relief, and was exceſſively afflicted: Adamas ſurpriſed her as ſhe was almoſt drowned in ſorrows; and though he knew them to be but juſt, ſeeing ſo little hopes of any remedy, yet having a firm belief that the Gods would never abandon ſo juſt a cauſe, he candemned her exceſſive ſorrows, as out of ſeaſon: Which the Princeſs not being able to reliſh; Alas Adamas (ſaid ſhe) how can I chuſe but be ſenſible of all theſe ſad accidents which are even ready to ruine me: every thing contributes unto it; Strangers deceive me; my Neighbours aſſault me, and my own Subjects betray me. Upon this ſhe pulled out he handkerchief and wiped her eyes, which notwithſtanding the Grandure of her courage, did ſend forth a flood of tears: which the Druide perceiving, and deſiring to comfort her: Madam (ſaid he unto her) I muſt needs confeſſe that you have ſome cauſes to fear, but pardon me if I tell you, that you have no cauſe to diſpair: A high born ſoul as yours is, cannot be culpable of ſuch a crime, which is a mark of a baſe ſpirit that is d [...]ffident in the goodneſſe and omnipotence of the gods: by the grace of Tautates our affairs are no [...] in ſuch an extremity as to expect nothing but certain ruine; and though we were all to periſh infallibly, methinks it ſhould be a great comfort unto you, to know that though the gods have permitted it to be ſo, yet it is not for any crime which you have committed: I do know, Madam, that Eſtates have ſometimes their revolutions and changes; but I know alſo, that it ſeldome happens without ſome legetimate cauſe have drawn the anger of the gods upon them. Now Madam, no ſuch cauſe can ever be found in you, whoſe piety has ever been ſo obſervable, that the leaſt ſhadow of any crime could never be found in all your actions. The moſt religious of all my actions (anſwered the Princeſs) is as bad as a crime, ſince I do ſuffer the puniſhment of them: This is no good concluſion (anſwered the Druide) no more then if you ſhould ſay you never did any good act ſince the gods do not recompence you. But, Madam, you muſt know, that the eye of man is too weak to ſee the ſecrets of the gods, nor can our ſhallow thoughts reach the ſublimity of theirs; and it is a thing moſt difficult to find out the cauſes of the good or the bad which they do ſend unto us: ſometimes they are pleaſed to ſuffer the good to be overwhelmed with miſeries and calamities, whilſt the bad do ſwim in good Fortune and proſperity; but alas, Madam, it is becauſe they think that the proſperity of this world is not recompence good enough for the good, and therefore their reward is referred unto the next world. But Adamas (replied the Nymph) admit all this true, yet in the mean time this Traytour Polemas will triumph over my daughter and my dominions: If the gods have ſo ordained it (anſwered Adamas) all humane power is not able to hinder it; but the beſt way is to ſuffer patiently without murmure. I know (replied the Nymph) that if Galatheas courage be like unto mine, we ſhall not want remedies to keep our ſelves from falling into his hands. The beſt remedy of all (replied the Druide) is to have recourſe unto the gods, who will never deny you [Page] what is neceſſary: The Gods are ſo juſt (replied Amaſis) that they have given me power to die when I pleaſe. Upon this, ſhe was ſo ſwelled with grief, that ſhe left the Druide in the chamber, and ſhut her ſelf in her cloſet: Adamas fearing leſt the Nymph ſhould fall upon ſome dangerous reſolution, he went in all haſte unto Godomar, who had with him Damon, Alcidon, Lipandas, Ligdamon, Lidias, and ſome other Cavaliers, and telling them in what condition Amaſis was, and all the diſcourſe they had together, he beſeeched them to go unto her: afterwards giving them ſome particular inſtructions, he accompanied them unto the cloſet door, and afterwards went into the Town to give neceſſary orders for the preſervation of it.

Amaſis was already laid down upon her bed, in hopes to find ſome reſt, but found none: for joyning to her ſorrows, at the bad eſtate of her affairs, the loſs of Clidemant her ſon, in whom ſhe had placed her greateſt hopes, ſhe was ſo drowned in ſorrows, that ſhe was even ready to ſacrifice her ſelf unto the violence of her deſpair. She had a thouſand deſignes in her mind, and the moſt advantageous was to die: And though ſhe knew well enough that complaints and tears would do no good, yet ſhe ſtill complained and cryed, becauſe ſhe could not chuſe: Alas, my dear Clidemant (ſaid ſhe) muſt thy death be the cauſe of mine? and muſt thy loſs be ſucceeded by the loſs of my eſtate? did the ſafety of all this Province depend upon thy life? and was the good of my people wholly built upon thine? Alas, alas (added ſhe with a deep ſigh) what reaſon had I to think ſo, ſince before ever thou cameſt into the world they flouriſh'd with ſo much glory, that there was no fear of any change, but that it was their fate to periſh with thee; Ah Clidemant, Clidemant, my deareſt Clidemant; and would have continued in her Lamentations, but hearing ſome knock at the door ſhe ſtopped, and as ſoon as ſhe was told that it was Godomar, ſhe covered her tears with her handkerchief.

The young Prince, in whoſe valour was all her hopes, uſed ſuch excellent expreſſions, and the Cavaliers who accompanied him, did make ſuch promiſes of ſervice and affection, that ſhe received ſome comfort: ſo as deſiring them to ſit down, ſhe told them that the courage of a woman was not ſtrong enough to reſiſt the blows of Fortune; eſpecially when they threatned the loſs of reputation with the loſs of life: Hitherto I have with ſome patience reſiſted the aſſaults of my misfortunes; but now ſince the forces which Polemas has received, it has put me out of all hopes to puniſh his rebellion; and ſince I ſee my daughter and my ſelf ready to be ſacrificed unto his arrogance, I muſt confeſs my reaſon bids me deſpair when I ſee armed againſt me no fewer then fourty thouſand men. All that number (anſwered Godomar) may be ſhaked into duſt, by one ſingle blow of heavens anger. It is not the number that gets victories; courage and a good cauſe are the ſure foundations of getting combats and battels, which makes me believe, that you, Madam, having ſo much right on your ſide, and your enemies ſo much injuſtice, and the carriage of thoſe which ſerve you being incomparably above theirs, it is impoſſible but all this great puiſſance which you ſee, muſt vaniſh before your arms, as the light of many little Stars will at the arrival of the Sun. All the reſt of the Cavaliers added ſome ſuch diſcourſes, and gave her ſuch hopes, that her countenance began to reaſſume freſh colours again: After this, they retired, and went unto the walls to look upon their enemies.

Celadon in two dayes was ſo well recovered of his wounds, that he began to ſtir out of his chamber; and that day in particular, he went to viſit Clindor and his Gueſts, and return them thanks for their viſits; and therefore Adamas went thither alſo, who finding them in the Garden, did firſt ſalute Clindor; afterwards taking Alexis by the hand, who was talking with Aſtrea, he ſaid unto that fair Shepherdeſs, will you fair one give me leave to take her out of your company a little, whom you ſeem to love ſo well though ſhe deſerve it not? The Authority (anſwered Aſtrea) which, Sir, you have both upon her and me, may do what you pleaſe without asking my conſent; but ſince you are pleaſed to ask it, I muſt tell you, reverend Sir. that I will give it upon condition you reſtore her quickly again for the truth is I cannot enjoy any contentment in any other company but [Page] hers. The Druide ſmiling at her innocency, and admiring to ſee how perfectly ſhe was deceived, I will keep her ſo little from you (ſaid he unto her) that you ſhall have no cauſe to chide me for croſſing your contentment: In ſaying ſo he carried Alexis into another walk where none could here; and Aſtrea retiring into an harbour with other Shepherds and Shepherdeſſes, he began to ſay thus unto her, are you reſolved Celadon to languiſh thus eternally in this habit which you wear? Do you not conſider that you have been now above two moneths with Aſtrea, and abuſing her credulity under a fiction which cannot long continue. Conſider I ſay, that you are Man, and it is impoſſible you ſhould continue long in the diſguiſe of a woman; in time will your beard grow▪ in ſpite of your Petticote, and if you ſhould be diſcovered, what a ſoul blur would it be unto my reputation, and what advantage would you give unto my enemies; They would talk of this action as a Scandal, and ſo ſtain my repute in the opinion of men, that they would look upon me as an Impoſtour, who to make Celadon triumph over the chaſtity of Aſtrea, made uſe of this Artifice. Father (anſwered Celadon) all the actions of your life are unblameable, ſo as you cannot offend either againſt heaven or men; and the honour of Aſtrea is ſo ſplendent that it cannot be clouded by any ſuſpition: ſo as you need not fear to let me continue ſtill in this condition wherein I am: you may ſafely ſuffer me to ſtay ſtill with Aſtrea under the umbrage of Alexis, ſince I am ſure I cannot live under the notion of Celadon.

Adamas then ſhrugged his ſhoulders, and recoyled two or three paces; then taking the Shepherd by the hand, he began to walk, but I muſt tell you (ſaid he) that this deſire of yours was reaſonable the firſt time that you aſſumed this habit; but now, when by a thouſand expreſſions in the advantage of Celadon, you may conclude ſhe loves you, methinks you ſhould not be ſo much an enemy unto your ſelf, as to loſe the contentment of appearing Celadon. My deſign was to have you marry Aſtrea, and not this habit, and ſince you ſtay only for a command from her to reſtore her that, whoſe loſs hath coſt her ſo many tears; you may plainly ſee that ſhe has a deſire of that reſtitution, and that deſire may ſerve you for a command.

Ah Father (anſwered Celadon) ſhe did baniſh me in expreſſe termes; had ſhe ſaid go Shepherd, and let me not ſee thee again until I make it appear that I do deſire it, I confeſſe, that now I ſee her deſire, I were infinitly to blame if I did not appear; but ſince her fatal words were, Go, go, perfideous man, and come not in my preſence untill I command thee, I ſhould diſobey her if I ſhould appear Celadon, having not yet received that bleſſed command from her. But yet (ſaid the Druide) this way of living with her muſt one day have an end; and ſince it is inevitable, why ſhould you defer it ſo long? That does depend upon her, replied Celadon, and not me; and until ſhe be pleaſed to give the command, I am not to blame if I hide my ſelf from her: for all the miſeries and diſcontent that I can fall into by concealment of my ſelf, are leſs then the crime of diſobeying her. But (ſaid Adamas) whom would you have her give this command unto, ſince ſhe believes him unto whom it is to be given, not in the world? This (anſwered the Shepherd) is a ſecret which the Gods have reſerved unto themſelves: but I who am reſolved to die a thouſand deaths rather then fail in the leaſt circumſtance of a perfect lover, I will wait with patience, and not dive too deep into the Myſtery.

Son (ſaid the Druide) do no [...] wonder I ſhould ſtill perſiſt in my deſires of your enjoying Aſtrea, ſince my contentment is inſeparably linked with yours, and ſince the Gods have promiſed a contented old age unto me, in caſe you receive that happineſs. Now you know the ſtate of our affairs, and ſince you have a clear judgement to ponder all theſe things, I would gladly have you conſider that I can never meet with that felicity which the Gods have promiſed unto me, nor give you unto your Shepherdeſs at any other time but this: if things were in a better condition, and the Treaſon of Polemas had not brought this Province to the very brink of ruine, I ſhould ſtay with as much patience as you; but ſince all is in a deſperate condition, and ready to be irrecoverably loſt, I earneſtly beſeech [Page] you my ſon, even for Aſtreas ſake, who hath the greateſt power over your ſpirit, not to oppoſe any longer the deſire that I have of ſeeing you two united together.

Celadon hearkned unto the Druide very attentively; but when he heard him mention the pitiful condition unto which the affairs of Amaſis was reduced. Make what haſte and diligence you can (replied he) to render me this happineſs, it cannot be compleated ſo ſoon as the miſeries which threaten this City; ſo as, Father, it is better never to begin to be happy, then not to enjoy it after the obtaining. My own particular intereſt is not ſo ſeparated from the Publick, but that it is my duty as well as other mens to endeavour the delivery of Amaſis from her oppreſſions, and I believe ſo you will permit it, I ſhall not altogether be unprofitable, and few there are that will endeavour more boldly then my ſelf, the glory of dying honourably: And therefore, Father, I do moſt earneſtly and heartily beſeech you, and conjure you by all thoſe cares which formerly you have had to hinder me from dying, to find out ſome invention or other, by which I may fight as Celadon, and yet Astrea not perceive it.

Adamas did in his ſoul commend the courage of this Shepherd, and was extreamly glad to find in him ſuch marks of the generoſity of his Anceſtours; yet finding much difficulty in the deſign, and yet deſiring to trye his courage, he told him that the thing was impoſſible, and bad him never think more upon it: at which Celadon was ſo troubled, that not being able to hide his diſcontent at this anſwer, he changed colour; therefore to ſatisfie him, Adamas ſaid unto him, your deſire Celadon is not ſo unjuſt but I would willingly grant it, if I did but know how to mannage the matter: for to tell you truly, I am afraid that the love which Aſtrea bears unto you will open her eyes, and make her obſerve our actions more narrowly then yet ſhe hath: upon this he pauſed a little, and afterwards continued.

I begin (ſaid he) to think of a way which may happily take effect; you muſt know, Celadon, that as men commonly have recourſe unto the god, more zealouſly in adverſity then in proſperity: ſo in moſt deſperate affairs they uſe to imploy the prayers of ſuch as they think have moſt prevalency with the gods. Now doubtleſs, ſuch as live out of the affairs of the world have more free acceſſe unto the gods, then ſuch whoſe minds are wholly upon the earth, and who hardly ever look up to heaven, unleſſe to ſee what weather it will be: I do therefore conceive it expedient to pretend that Amaſis hath commanded me that you ſhall imploy your ſelf in offering up ſome prayers according to the cuſtome of Druides daughters; and becauſe during that time their eyes are not to be profaned by any terreſtrial object, well will pretend that you have cloyſtered up your ſelf in my houſe; and afterwards covering your face and the reſt of your body with ſuch Armour as Godomar, Damon, and other Cavaliers were, you may do as your courage inſpires you, yet ſtill without hazarding your ſelf too raſhly.

Celadon, more glad of this expedient then he was able to expreſſe, did kiſſe the hand of Adamas: and after he had thanked him for the care he had of him, the Druide carried him back to Aſtrea: after this he returned to the Nymph, but not before all the Shepherds did ſwear unto him a thouſand times, that they would ſpend every drop of blood they had in the ſervice of that Nymph.

Clindor and the reſt waited upon him out of the Garden: Aſtrea only ſtayed with Alexis; for her extream deſire to know what diſcourſe Adamas had with him, made her defer it no longer, but to ask what it was: ſeeing her ſelf therefore without any other witneſſes, but the flowers and the fountains wherewith the Garden was adorned, deareſt Miſtreſſe (ſaid ſhe unto her) give me leave to be ſo inquiſitive as to ask, what diſcourſe was it which Adamas and you had together? With all my heart, ſervant (anſwered Alexis) for your deſire to know my buſineſs, makes me believe that you think your ſelf intereſted in it, and it is a great argument of the affection which you bear unto me, to ſhew your ſelf ſenſible of what concerns me: I ſhould (replied Aſtrea) be the moſt ingrateful perſon in the world if I were not, ſince your merit obtains as much, even from the moſt barbarous diſpoſitions; but, deareſt Miſtreſſe, I beſeech you hold me [Page] no longer in ſuſpence, but tell me what was the ſubject of your diſcourſe? I ſhall tell you in few words, replied the ſuppoſed Druide, all our diſcourſe was of nothing elſe but the calamities of the State, and of thoſe troubles which afflict the mind of Amaſis: after this he thought upon the beſt remedies to prevent them, and found none more expedient then thoſe which come from the gods, and told me that it was very neceſſary I ſhould make ſome prayers unto them for that purpoſe, and beſeech them to deliver us from thoſe calamities which threaten us: I make no queſtion (ſaid Aſtrea) but you promiſed that you would: I did indeed (anſwered Alexis) but ſervant you know that there is a great deal of buſineſſe to the accompliſhment of this promiſe: What can there be extraordinary, ſaid the Shepherdeſſe? for you can very eaſily ſend up your thoughts unto heaven as you are accuſtomed, and becauſe they ſhould not go unaccompanied, I will joyn my prayers with yours, and preſent them with you. I am afraid (anſwered Alexis) that you are ignorant in our manner of praying, and think this action as eaſie, as to obtain of me a kiſſe, or ſome other trivial favour; but Servant, know that the gods will not be ſerved by any in a ſlight manner. We muſt make great preparation for it, and beget in our ſelves a fitting diſpoſition to receive their favours, otherwiſe in lieu of hearing our prayers, or deſcending into our hearts, they will be far abſent from us, and leave us in the dark in lieu of clearing our underſtandings. What muſt we do (ſaid Aſtrea) to get this diſpoſition in us which you ſay is ſo neceſſary? Should I tell you every particular (anſwered Alexis) our diſcourſe would be too long; but in ſhort it is abſolutely neceſſary to ſeparate my ſelf, for eight or ten dayes, from all manner of company, nay almoſt even from my very ſelf, and that I do not ſuffer my eyes to look upon any object that is prophane. How? (ſaid the Shepherdeſs and was a little ſurprized) how then can Aſtrea ſubſiſt when ſhe is ſo long from Alexis? I cannot tell (ſaid the ſuppoſed Druide) but I am ſure that Alexis cannot live without the preſence of Aſtrea.

The Shepherdeſs, who did not comprehend what Celadon meant, alas (ſaid ſhe) Alexis indeed will not be upon the earth, for her thoughts will be all in heaven in ſweet raptures, whilſt I being abſent from her, and far from all conſolation, ſhall droop and die a hundred times in a day with grief and inquietude: But Miſtreſſe (ſaid ſhe and reprehended her ſelf) is it not poſſible, I that may be left out and not comprehended in the number of thoſe objects, which you call prophane? and being but a woman, ſhall not diſturb your ſolitude. Upon this Astrea began to ſhed ſome tears, which the Shepherd ſtopped with his lips, leſt they ſhould drop into her breſt; but after he had ſpent a little time in this pleaſing office, I ſwear Servant (ſaid he unto her) the time of this abſence cannot be ſo ſad unto you as to me; and yet when I conſider, that I do not ſeparate my ſelf from you, but only to render unto the Nymph a ſervice of conſiderable importance, it is a kind of comfort unto me, and moves me to conjure you by all the teſtimonies of love that formerly Celadon hath given unto you, that you do not any more oppoſe my deſire of imploying my ſelf for the ſafety of that Princeſs, and preſervation of all Forreſt. But if (ſaid Aſtrea) Polemas ſhould become Maſter of the Town whilſt I am out of your ſight, and will expoſe us unto the barbariſme of his Souldiers, will you not give me leave, Miſtreſſe, to die rather then ſuffer ſuch villains to triumph over me? Celadon was nettled at theſe laſt words, and fearing that ſuch a misfortune might happen, Servant (ſaid he) I do not only conſent unto it, but command it, as a Victime which you oghut to ſacrifice for the preſervation of your honour, and let nothing in the world hinder you: for aſſure your ſelf that I would do the ſame; and as ſoon as ever they attempt any thing upon you, if I be not there to defend you, I am not in the world: however (ſaid Aſtrea) in the other world there will be no obſtacle that can hinder our contentment; and I aſſure you, faireſt Miſtreſſe, the preſence of Celadon will not be one of the leaſt joyes which you will find there. I hope, ſaid the Shepherd, that he will be an eternal witneſs of your Carreſſes; in the mean time, Servant, receive this adieu which I bid unto you, and promiſe to love me for ever with the ſame paſſion which you have hitherto expreſſed. I do moſt [Page] faithfully promiſe it (ſaid Aſtrea and kiſſed him) and if ever I fail in the performance of that duty, may heaven puniſh me: upon this they came near unto Clindor, Silvander, Diana, and others, who were newly entred into the Garden; and all of them went together into the next arbour, where the good old man cauſed abundance of excellent fruit to be brought, whereof every one did eat according to their appetites.

Whilſt theſe Shepherds and Shepherdeſſes ſpent their time thus in the houſe of Clindor, and had no other perplexities, but ſuch as were common to all the State, Roſanira and Galathea ſeldome ever leſt each other, and had united themſelves in ſuch terms of amity, as it was very hard to meet with two whoſe affections were more inviolable. That day they went to paſſe away the afternoon in Roſaniras chamber, becauſe Amaſis deſired to be left alone, and becauſe the ſorrows of that Nymph did extreamly trouble thoſe two Princeſſes, as ſoon as they came into the chamber they ſate down upon a bed; and Roſanira embracing Galathea, I would to God (ſaid ſhe unto her with tears in her eyes) that it were in my power to reſtore that contentment unto you which you have loſt: if it were, I ſwear, fair Nymph, I would not ſpare my life it ſelf to procure it. Madam, anſwered Galathea, that is a great deal too much: it is enough that you are ſo good as to honour me with your good wiſhes of it; I ſpeak it, ſaid Roſanira, from my very heart, and I beſeech you believe it, that I cannot render you any ſervice ſo great, but whatſoever it be, it will be leſs then your merits. After Galathea had given many thanks for her good will, if heaven and Polemas (ſaid ſhe) did not hate me worſe then you do, Amaſis would never have been reduced unto theſe extremities which afflict her and make me deſpair, becauſe I look upon my ſelf as the only cauſe of all theſe diſorders: if heaven (anſwered Roſanira) would hearken unto my prayers, or if Polemas would hearken unto reaſon or equity, all your miſeries ſhould end this hour, but to my grief, both are deaf: Ah, Madam, replied Galathea, it was a fatal minute when firſt Polemas looked upon me with the eyes of liking: for had he never loved me, or had I at the firſt given, a check unto his vanity in pretending love to me, doubtleſs I had ſtopped all theſe misfortunes in their very beginning, and all our ſorrows had died with thoſe hopes which have ſince nouriſhed his preſumption.

It was not in your power, replied Roſanira, to keep your ſelf from appearing fair in his eyes, becauſe you are really ſo in the eyes of all the world; but indeed, you might have kept him at ſuch an humble diſtance, that the effects of his preſumption ſhould never have dared to appear: And indeed, I cannot comprehend within the compaſs of my knowledge, what intereſt he has to pretend unto you; for if he do love you, how dare he be ſo bold as to diſpleaſe you? and if he do not love you, what makes him ſo eager to overcome you? Madam (ſaid the Nymph) believe it, he is the moſt perſidious and dangerous ſpirit that breathes upon earth: He loves me only for ſome ends; and if the State were to deſcend unto any other but me, I believe he would not ſo much as look upon me: You muſt know, that his ambition ſoars higher then the thoughts of any mortal man could ever reach: Beſides, he is of ſuch a jealous and envious nature, that the happineſs of another puts him into a burning Feaver, What has he not attempted againſt Damon? he has ſeveral times indeavoured to murder him, and takes thoſe honours which my mother renders unto his merit ſo impatiently, as I believe it is one of the main cauſes of his diſcontent; he has alſo had ſome bickerings with Lindamor, who was a very brave Cavalier; and when he ſaw himſelf forced to yield unto the valour of his enemy, there was no treaſon nor trick which he did not invent to ruine him: At laſt, ſeeing all his pernicious ſubtilties turned to his own ſhame and confuſion; he openly took up arms, and takes the advantage of my brothers death, and of the abſence of all our beſt Cavalry to ruine us, under pretence of a deſire to marry me.

Thus did Galathea condemn Polemas, whoſe undertakings were indeed moſt unjuſt; and Roſanira, for a better information of her life, deſired her to tell her more concerning thoſe two Rivals, which the Nymph was very willing to do: ſo as ſhe related all the Treaſons of Polemas, the Juglings of Climanthes, the ſcandalous [Page] reports he had raiſed againſt Lindamor: The combate wherein that Cavalier overcame him; and indeed all the remarkable accidents, which happened an conſequents of that affection. Which Roſanira hearkning unto with admiration, certainly, ſaid ſhe, before he compaſs his ends, it will coſt him much blood and pains. Truly, anſwered the Nymph, if he ſhould prevail, and I not die with grief, I think I ſhall become my own executioner. We ſhall within a few dayes (anſwered the Princeſs) ſee what will be our Fates, and then we may guide our thoughts and our hands accordingly: For my part, if Roſilion fail to relieve you, I ſhall have no joy in life, but would moſt willingly die to puniſh him for his negligence, with thoſe torments which my death would cauſe unto him: As ſhe ſaid ſo, ſhe embraced her again; and Galathea, ſtill kiſſing the cheek of Roſanira, why ſhould I, ſaid ſhe, be the cauſe of ſo much misfortune unto you? It is not you, replied the young Princeſs, that would be the cauſe of it, but his negligence, or, perhaps, his infidelity: with ſuch diſcourſe as this, they entertained each other upon a ſubject of ſorrow which was common unto them both.

Silvander in the mean time kept cloſe by Diana, and by good fortune he found a fit opportunity of talking unto her, not out of the preſence of other Shepherds and Shepherdeſſes, but ſo as they could not hear him; and becauſe he would not ſit idle whilſt othert were labouring for the defence of Marcelles, he beſeeched Diana to let him get ſome honour as others did in dangers: Not Miſtreſs (ſaid he) that I ſtand in any need of your permiſſion to whet my courage, but becauſe I am certain that all I attempt will proſper if it be done by the conſent of faireſt Diana.

The Shepherdeſs who did infinitly love him, and who could not any longer conceal her paſſion, was a little ſurprived at this requeſt, and her fears of loſing him made her begin to look pale; but fearing withal that notice ſhould be taken of it, ſhe recollected her ſelf as well as ſhe could, and anſwered him in theſe terms: Servant (ſaid ſhe) what need you ask me any leave to do that which your humour is ſo prompt unto that nothing in the world is able to divert you from it? If you hope that it would give good fortune unto your arms, you may conſider it is impoſſible I ſhould give that which I have not my ſelf, and that being the moſt miſerable woman that lives, I can impart nothing unto you but my miſfortunes.

It is no matter (replied the Shepherd) what ſucceſſe my Arms have, I ſhall think my ſelf abundantly happy, if imploying them in the defence of Amaſis, I can but pleaſe Diana; and therefore I moſt humbly beſeech you to expreſs your approbation of my deſigne, to the end that if I die, it may be with this ſatisfaction that I did not diſpleaſe you. I wiſh withal my heart, replied Diana, that you would not follow this courſe; for your ſafety is dearer unto me, then perhaps, you imagine: But ſince it is inevitable, I will not be oppoſite unto the ſentence of our Deſtinies: The truth is, if that power which you have given me over you, had ſo much prevalency as not to be denied what I ſhall requeſt of you, I would have you make a moſt inviolable promiſe unto me, not to venture your ſelf too deſperately into any perils, and in your greateſt dangers to remember, that the leaſt misfortune which can happen unto Silvander, is a very great one unto Diana.

Actions (anſwered the Shepherd) which may be condemned of raſhneſs, are not ſuch as I think worthy of a man of courage; and therefore you may believe, that I will be as wary as becomes my honour, and will not ſo careleſly expoſe my life, but that if I do periſh, it ſhall be honourable unto me, and profitable to the Nymph: But Miſtreſs (continued he) ſince Paris muſt enjoy you, and ſince you have not reſolution enough to defend your ſelf againſt him, can I deſire to die more gloriouſly then in theſe wars, or in a ſeaſon more advantageous unto me then this? ſince you ſeem to pity my misfortune? Shepherd (anſwered Diana) you have good reaſon to ſay that I have not reſolution enough to defend my ſelf from marrying Paris, ſince it is Bellindes will, and ſince the gods have commanded me to be obedient unto her: But for all that believe me, what cauſe ſoever you have to ſeek for death, I am ſure it can never happen unto you, but it will be moſt [Page] ſad unto me, and perhaps intollerable: And therefore I tell you once again, that if you do value my contentment and ſatisfaction, you muſt preſerve your ſelf. As ſhe ſaid ſo, Silvander would have kiſſed her hand; but ſhe obſerving that ſome eyes were upon him, ſhe withdrew it, and preſſed his very hand, which was the greateſt favour that ever he received: And becauſe ſhe was afraid, that if ſhe purſued this diſcourſe it would move too much paſſion, therefore ſhe liſtned unto what others ſaid, and then ſhe heard Hylas ſay thus unto Tyrcis.

I cannot imagine Tyrcis, what object thou haſt for thy courage, nor for whom thou ſhouldſt fight, becauſe ſince the death of thy dear Cleon, who lives ſtill in thy excellent memory, all things are meerly indifferent unto thee, methinks anſwered Tyrcis, that your imagination is very ſhallow, and that thou haſt a wrong opinion of me, when thou thinkeſt, that to fight I ſtand in need to propoſe unto my ſelf any private intereſt: as if all actions which have ſuch objects, as to be eſteemed valiant, to become rich, or ſuch like, were not falſe Images of true valour: It is enough for me if I can ſerve Amaſis as I ought, without the thought of any other recompence, but the ſatisfaction of doing ſo; for virtue is a ſufficient reward unto it ſelf: Lord how wiſe you are (anſwered Hylas) but for all that I have reaſon to ſuſpect thy courage, ſince Laonice could make thee afraid: If I did fear the ſubtilties of that woman (anſwered Tyrcis) it was not for want of any courage, but rather a horrour that I had againſt her wickedneſs; and if I be not much miſtaken (continued he looking upon Hylas and afterwards upon Silvander) thou oughteſt to put a great difference between that kind of fear which is directly oppoſite unto courage, and thoſe apprehenſions which makes us fear a perſon only out of a knowledge we have of ſome ill qualities in her. I perceive (anſwered Hylas) that thy eyes require ſome help from Silvander, but we will at this time defer our diſcourſe unto another; only conſider, I deſire thee, that if I had leaſure, I would make thee know that this Shepherdeſs is not ſo much to blame as you imagine her: Upon this he roſe up, becauſe Clindor began already to walk out of the Arbour, and Tyrcis had not time to make any other anſwer, but that he believed all the eloquence in the world was not able to perſwade him, but that ſhe was unworthy, not only of his amity, but of the meaneſt Shepherds upon earth.

This was the opinion which Tyrcis had of the love and beauty of Laonice, who being not ſo far diſtant as he imagined, did paſſe away her dayes and nights in her ſolitude, without any our thoughts, but upon the ingratitude of this Shepherd. Upon that day ſhe was walked up to the top of a rock, which being very high, ſurveyed all the plain of Forreſts; and becauſe ſhe could perceive every thing, even to the leaſt ſhrub, ſhe quickly ſpied the Army from which Polemas expected the eſtabliſhment of his Fortune. At the firſt it put her into a fright; but afterwards thinking it a thing impoſſible they could do her any hurt in that cloſe ſolitude, unto which the gods and Tyrcis had confined her, her fears reflected only upon her Shepherd; and though ſhe was well aſſured that he loved not her; yet ſhe could not chuſe but wiſh his ſafety, and fear leſt ſome harm ſhould happen unto him: Theſe conſiderations made her wet the very rock with her tears, and afterwards to dry up thoſe tears again with the wind of her ſighs; and thus ſhe continued until night, which invited her to retire, and left her only as much light as to find out the way unto her cell: into which entring, ſhe fell into her conſtant exerciſe, which was to pray unto the gods, and to think upon the ingratitude of Tyrcis.

At the arival of this relief from Gondebaut, Polemas cauſed all his own Forces, and all his Artillery to march out of Surlea: ſo as his joyes ſwelled to an unmeaſurable hight, when he imagined that the power which he had now under his command, was enough to bring Marcelles unto his will in a ſhort time: when he thought upon what he had gotten by the flight of Sigiſmond, he could not imagine that the Arms of the Son were able to give any check unto the Arms of the Father: He knew nothing of Lindamors return, who yet was not ſo far diſtant from him as he ſuppoſed; for that Cavalier, having marched with extraordinary haſte, was already come to the rendezvous which he had appointed unto Sigiſmond. [Page] That Prince on the other ſide, made as much haſte as poſſibly he could, and was ſo far advanced with his Troops, that he joyned with Lindamor about the middle of the night. They were no ſooner met, but one of thoſe Scouts which Lindamor had ſent abroad, brought them word that Roſilion was alſo advanced with ten or twelve thouſand men, and that he was already on this ſide Moutbriſon, at which they were ſo joyed, that they reſolved to joyn with him, and accordingly they ſent that Scout unto him with twelve of their Cavaliers, to prepare him to receive them; and afterwards, by the favour of the night, they took the field: Roſili [...] who wiſh'd for no better, and was extreamly deſirous to ſee armed in the de [...]g [...] of Amaſis, not only Sigiſmond and Lindamor, but all the world together, he advanced to meet them as faſt as he could, and when they did meet with each other, their Carreſſes were ſo great, that the Sun ſeemed to rejoice at them, and began to gild the mountains with the luſter of its beams.

Polemas had ſlept but a very little, by reaſon of his longing deſire to ſee the Truce ended: ſo as being awake very early in the morning, day did no ſooner dawn, but the received intelligence of this Armies arrival: his wonder was ſo much the greater, by how much it was beyond his expectation; yet finding it to be upon equal terms, he believed the loſs or the winning of a battel would decide the difference. He commanded therefore all the Officers of his Army to be in readineſſe, and did not draw any line about Marcelles, nor erected any of his Engines, leſt the ſeparation of his forces ſhould weaken him too much for a field fight.

On the other ſide, Lindamor, who knew to a very man the ſtrength of Polemas, did conceive it a very hard task for this Rebel to reſiſt the valour and prudence of Sigiſmond and Roſilion; and though he made no queſtion of giving him a defeat, yet it grieved him extreamly to think that ſo many men ſhould be involved in the intereſt of one ſingle man, and thought it a thouſand pities, that for the crime of this one ſingle man, fifteen or twenty thouſand ſhould be puniſhed with death. This conſideration made him think upon a remedy againſt ſuch a miſfortune; and finding none better then to move Polemas unto a deſciſſion of the controverſie by ſingle combate, he reſolved to uſe all poſſible incitations that might ſpur him up unto it. Yet being unwilling to attempt any thing without the conſent of Sigiſmond and Roſilion, he did communicate his intention unto them in this manner.

Sirs, (ſaid he unto them) I make no doubt but you do know as well as my ſelf, that all theſe violencies of Polemas againſt Amaſis, do aim at no other end but the uſurpation of her Eſtate. Now ſince the crime of this Rebel is committed immediately againſt a Princeſſe, unto whom I am both by birth and inclination a Subject, none can more juſtly then my ſelf revenge the wrongs which ſhe hath received from the arrogance of this perfideous man; not, but that I know you have power to ruine the Rebel when you pleaſe, and his raſhneſſe muſt needs ſubmit unto your valour. But I beſeech you conſider who are the enemies that you are to fight withal, and finding them to be almoſt all Subjects unto either Gondebaut or Amaſis, does it not grieve you to ruine them? I do therefore moſt humbly beſeech you, not to ſuffer ſo many people to periſh for the fault of him that hath ſeduced them, but to conſent, that in the ſight of your Army and his, I may puniſh his pride by a ſingle Combate, ſo ſhall the guilty be puniſhed according to his merit, and the blood of my Princeſſes Subjects ſaved. After this Lindamor was ſilent; and Sigiſmond, without any long ſtudy what to anſwer: let me periſh (ſaid he) if I had not the ſame thought before, and if I was not ready to make the ſame propoſition unto you. I do not know what Polemas is; I never ſaw his face, nor know of what temper he is; but I have ſo great an inclination to hate him, that difference of qualities ſhall not hinder me from meaſuring my ſword with his, if I knew by any means how to oblige him unto it. His courage, replied Lindamor, is not ſo mean, but he deſerves to be held in ſome conſideration; yet it is accompanied with ſo many wicked qualities, that it muſt be acknowledged his bad ones do extreamly ſurpaſſe his good ones: He is extreamly vainglorious [Page] and ambitious; the moſt jealous man alive, and of ſuch a pernicious nature, that he cannot endure any other ſhould be owner of thoſe virtues which he is not: there needs no deſcription of his humours (replied Sigiſmond) It is enough that I know what he attempts againſt Amaſis and Galathea, to make me think him a moſt wicked man: let me only tell you, that if I could bring to paſs what I have already propounded, I ſhould receive a moſt extraordinary ſatisfaction. I do conceive (ſaid Roſilion) that we cannot in juſtice deny Lindamor the requeſt which he hath made unto us. It is very true that you and I being both come to teſtifie unto the Nymph our willingneſſe to ſerve her. I [...]ceive Lindamor ought to imploy us both, which he cannot do this way, unleſſ [...]e he admit us both to the ſame ſervice. Sir, ſaid Lindamor, what you have already done for the relief of Amaſis is not ſo ſmall, but by what arm ſoever ſhe obtains her deliverance, ſhe will acknowledge her ſelf infinitely obliged unto you. Brave Lindamor (ſaid Sigiſmond and interrupted him) you cannot be againſt this, I ſee what it is the courage of Soſilion aims at, and if you will needs fight with Polemas, it muſt be upon ſuch conditions as this Prince hath propoſed. That (ſaid Lindamor) cannot well be, for there is none in that Army worthy of this honour, nor who dare accept of it. To remedy which, ſaid Roſilion, you may ſend a challenge unto him to fight three to three, and happily he will accept of it without asking who the two are who take your part: Lindamor thought that it became him to ſubmit to their wills, and therefore without any further oppoſition, he ſent Philiander, with a Herald, to carry this Challenge unto Polemas.

LINDAMORS Challenge unto POLEMAS.

DId I not perfectly know that Polemas is a man of courage, I ſhould fear he would not accept of that Combate which I offer unto him, and of which he himſelf ſhall make the conditions: but having upon former occaſions ſeen ſome experience of him, I am confident he will be glad to end that now, which then we did but begin: I would have for witneſſes of our actions, both our Armies: And I would have for companions of my Lot, two Cavaliers to fight on my ſide, if you can find two that will ſo venture their lives for you. Let me ſpeedily know your determination, and ſince your ruine is inevitable conſider that you cannot die more gloriouſly then by the hand of Lindamor.

As ſoon as Palemas had read this defiance: Truly, ſaid he, if his valour be equal to his preſumption, I ſhall find no feeble enemy to encounter withal; but I believe he has not ſo much advantage of me as his hopes do flatter him he has: Upon this, promiſing Philiander that he ſhould receive anſwer within an hour, he went to conſult with Liſtander and Argonides upon the matter. Afterwards, being reſolved upon it, he returned to Philiander and gave him this anſwer: I do accept of the combate which Lindamor offers me, upon ſuch conditions as are expreſſed in this paper which you ſhall give unto him: And that he may know by the haſte which I ſhall make, how much I deſire to ſee the end of all his hopes, with the end of his life, tell him; that within this two hours Argonides, Liſtander, and my ſelf, will be on horſeback: upon this Philiander threw down a Gantlet which Polemas took up, and returning unto Lindamor, he gave him an accompt of his ſucceſſe, and preſented unto him the paper of Polemas: which Lindamor opening, he ſhewed it unto the two Princes, who found in it theſe words.

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The Anſwer of POLEMAS unto the Challenge of LINDAMOR.

YOu are come very opportunely to preſerve unto my reputation, that Luster which in ſome ſort it would have lost, in vanquiſhing only women, my glory wanted nothing but your return, and ſince heaven has harkened unto my deſires; I am glad that I need do no more but overcome you before I enjoy thoſe favours which are more due unto my merit then unto your vanity. You ſhall ſee me therefore this day in the condition of a man, who is triumph both over his Rival and his Miſtreſs: and ſince I can engage thirty thouſand men to fight for me, you need not doubt but I ſhall find two that will think themſelves highly honoured in following my fortune; and therefore ſince you have left the conditions of our Combate unto my choiſe: Theſe following are they which I propound, unleſs you find any thing repugnant to your mind.

The death of Lindamor or Polemas ſhall be the ſole diſciſſion of the Combate.

It ſhall be lawful for the firſt vanquiſher to help his two Friends.

The Armies ſhall follow that ſide which proves victorious.

And it ſhall not be permitted the Conquerours to exerciſe upon the bodies of their conquered enemies, any act that may render their memories leſs glorious.

Theſe were the conditions upon which Polemas accepted of Lindamors Challenge, in which Sigiſmond found nothing but what was juſt: Roſilion only proteſted, that this article which obliged the Armies to follow the Conquerours, ought to be underſtood only of that Army which Lindamor brought from Childerick: for, ſaid he, I am moſt certain that there is not one of my men who will not die to revenge me, or to get Roſanira out of the power of Polemas. Sir, ſaid Lindamor, the gods do fight for us, ſince juſtice is on our ſide: Let us give this Traytour that contentment which he askes, and conſider that it will be the laſt he muſt ever make. Roſilion who would not be any obſtacle unto this deſign, did conſent unto it, and propoſed it as a good expedient to advertiſe Ama [...]is of all paſſages; but Lindamor and Sigiſmond were of a contrary opinion, and ſaid, that if the Combate did end well, the joyes of the Nymph would be the greater, becauſe ſhe would be the more pleaſingly ſurpriſed: and if it fell unto the glory of their enemies, it was ſtill beſt for the Nymph to be kept from deſpair, and not be at once from a hope of happineſs into a moſt certain miſery. Upon this reſolution Lindamor ſent word unto Polemas: upon the ſame conditions which he had propoſed; alſo cauſed the Articles to be publiſhed; Polemas on his ſide did the ſame, and afterwards went to make choiſe of the beſt arms and horſes he could find.

Things ſtanding upon theſe terms, Amaſis who knew of no paſſages without the Town, was ſo much overcome with grief, as ſhe could hardly tell what ſhe did: ſhe took but very ſmall reſt all the night; but when day appeared, ſo as the Army of Sigiſmond, Roſilion, and Lindamor, might be ſeen (which this afflicted Princeſſe took to be a freſh ſupply coming unto Polemas) ſhe was ready to ſend her ſelf into another world; She wiſhed for death a hundred times; and was angry with the Sun, becauſe it would not let her hide her ſelf in eternal darkneſs. Ah me (ſaid ſhe) how diſmal is this day unto me, wherein being deprived of my Eſtate and Galathea, I have left me nothing in the world that I care for: O how [Page] ſad a thing it is, that the words of men ſhould be nothing but ſo many lies, and how falſe are all ſuch hopes as are built upon ſuch failing foundations: Upon this ſhe was ſilent a while, to wipe away thoſe tears which had bedewed her cheeks, then ſhe began again to expoſtulate the ſadneſſe of her condition: O heaven (ſaid ſhe) how canſt thou ſuffer ſo much injuſtice; why doſt thou not puniſh Lindamor for his negligence, and Roſilion for keeping the promiſes of Argira? Surely thou art a favourer of ſins, ſince thou doſt ſuffer the perfidie of Polemas to paſs unpuniſhed. With ſuch diſparing expreſſions as theſe, this Nymph did lament her condition, when Godomar, Damon, Alcidon, Adamas, and ſome other Cavaliers, who were no leſſe troubled at the coming of this new Army, did come unto her, after they had viſited the ports and the walls. She was then upon the top of one of the Towers in the Caſtle, from whence ſhe might look upon thoſe Forces which ſhe thought to be enemies, and ſeeing all the plain which was wont to be ſo fertile in graſſe, now filled with armed men, and ſo many Pikes as reſembled a thick wood: O ye pittiful gods (ſaid ſhe) what a deplorable change is here ſince yeſterday, and how ſilly are all ſuch as ſeek for any ſtability in the poſſeſſion of humane things? In ſaying ſo, ſhe fixed her eyes ſo attentively upon the two Armies, which were not diſtant from each other above five or ſix hundred paces, that ſhe did not ſee Godomar when he came unto her; but he ſurprized her ſo ſunk in ſorrows, that ſhe was even ready to die: She thought the Town already expoſed to the fury of the ravenous Souldier; and fear had ſo ſeized upon her ſoul (an evident teſtimony of the weakneſs in her ſex) as ſhe thought the rattling of the Princes armour to be Polemas who was come to ſeiz upon her: ſo as ſhe gave a loud ſcriek, and ſuch a cold chilneſſe ſeized upon her, that her leggs failed, and ſhe fell as dead into the arms of Godomar. Adamas aſtoniſhed at this accident, did run as faſt as he could for ſuch remedies as might recover; and therefore Roſanira, Galathea, and Dorinde, who that night lay all in one chamber, were quickly advertiſed of it; ſo as they run to help the Nymph; but when they came unto her ſhe was returned out of her ſwound. Galathea was the firſt upon whom Amaſis caſt her eye; and becauſe that young Princeſſe was all in teares: Ah daughter (ſaid ſhe unto her) our tears are now unſeaſonable, and are only teſtimonies of our puſilanimity: For in ſuch deſpair as ours, we had better die then cry. Madam (anſwered Godomar) what reaſon ſoever ſhe has to deſire living no longer, a precipitated death is odious unto the gods, and rather argues puſillanimity then magnanimity: ſuch as for fear of any future pain do raſhly ſhorten their dayes, are ſuch as want courage, and who falling from one extremity into another, do fall from temeroſity into deſpair: It is much better patiently to obey whatſoever the heavens ordain, and ſhe will receive more contentment by it: The contentment which ſhe can expect, replied Amaſis, is ſo inconſiderable, that if ſhe have no other then it to deſire living, it is better to prepare our ſelves betimes to die; but if we have ſo much courage as to try how far our misfortunes can go, we ſtill live on: Therefore, Galathea, let us not die until Polemas periſh with us. Upon this ſhe was ſilent, and her countenance ſhewing more confidence then before, ſhe ſeemed at that time to aſſume ſome ſtrange reſolution. Galathea, whoſe ſorrows for Amaſis pierced her very ſoul, did anſwer in no language but that of tears, who ſeeing her ſelf ſeconded by Roſanira and Dorinde, he, ſad ſoul, ſwelled the more with ſorrows, and ſeemed to be proud of ſuch good companions in grief.

Damon, on the other ſide, who was all pity, did ſtrive as much as he could to turn his eyes from off theſe fair ones; and by good fortune, looking towards the plain, where the two Armies appeared in very good order; he ſaw three Cavaliers come out from one of them, without any other company but three Trumpets, and three Pages, who carried their Lances: their comly manage of their horſes did extreamly delight him, for all his hatred unto thoſe of Polemas his party: ſo as calling to Godomar, and ſhewing him the countenances of theſe three Cavaliers, Alcidon came alſo to ſee them, af [...]erwards Adamas, and after him Amaſis and the Ladies who were with her; all who, not knowing what the deſigne of theſe Cavaliers was, they reſolved not to ſtir from thence until they ſaw the concluſion of this paſſage.

[Page] Celadon in the mean time had deſired Adamas to execute the intention which he reſolved upon the day before; but the Druide having deferred it until the next morning, by reaſon of ſome affair he had concerning the arival of theſe new forces, he was conſtrained to return to Aſtrea: and that fair Shepherdeſſe perceiving by Celadons diſcourſe, that ſhe was to enjoy the company of her dear Alexis longer, ſhe was ſo extreamly joyed at it, that ſhe was not ſenſible of thoſe afflictions which tormented the minds of all the world. Clindor, Diana, Silvander, Phillis, Licidas, Hylas, Stella, Alexis, and Aſtrea, were all come together unto the walls of the Town, to look upon the new Troops that were arived; and they had not been there above a quarter of an before they ſpied thoſe three Cavaliers which Damon ſaw: and conceiving by the Trumpets and Pages, that they came not thither without ſome deſign, they ſtayed to ſee the ſucceſſe, and it hapned thus.

Sigiſmond, Roſilion, and Lindamor, who were the three Cavaliers before mentioned, no ſooner appeared, but Polemas, Argonides, and Liſtander, appeared alſo; ſo bravely armed, and every way accompliſhed, as was impoſſible of better: they alſo had their Trumpets and Pages, ſo as after they had faced each other a while, the Trumpets began to ſound; and the Pages giving them their Lances, upon the firſt ſign which was given, they ſet forward ſo furiouſly, and encountred with ſuch force, that the rocks ecchoed back the noiſe of their blows. Amaſis did wonder at the novelty of this ſpectacle; and asking Godomar the cauſe of this Combate: Madam, anſwered he, we cannot know it but from themſelves; but it is credible that ſome difference is amongſt them concerning the command in the Army, and ambition and jealouſie are the cauſes of their coming hither, and they are reſolved to decide their differences by Arms, which they cannot any otherwayes compoſe: the Nymph found ſome probability in this, and obſerved that their firſt courſe was not ended upon equal advantage: Roſilion broke his Lance upon Liſtander, and hitting him upon the right ſhoulder, did break a piece of his Curaſſe without doing him any other harm: Listander alſo broke his very well. Sigiſmond, whoſe activity and valour was not inferiour unto any, and being to encounter with an enemy, that was accompliſhed with all the ornaments of a brave Cavalier, did give and receive his blow almoſt in the ſame place; for the blow did light upon the mouth of his helmet, and the point of his Lance piercing through did a little hurt the lip of Argonides; and he himſelf received a hurt under the left eye, but ſo happily, that the point did but glide by it. Lindamor, unto whom the life of Polemas was abominable, he ran with ſuch fury upon him, that he thruſt his enemy out of the ſaddle to the ground: ſo as becauſe he ſcorned to take advantages, he preſently alighted, and accoſted him as ſoon as ever he was got up from the ground.

In the mean time Roſilion and Liſtander had taken new Lances, and at the ſecond courſe the Prince diſarmed the arm of his Antagoniſt, and made ſuch a wound in it, that the Cavalier not being able to weild either Lance or ſword, but loſing a great abundance of blood and his ſpeech, he fell dead ſome thirty or fourty paces diſtant. Sigiſmond broke three Lances againſt Argonides, and finding that he had got but a very little advantage of him, he advanced unto him, and ſaid, our Lances Cavalier, have done their office, let us therefore ſee whether our ſwords can determine our Combate. Argonides, who found himſelf a little wounded, and who knew very well what an unjuſt quarrel he had eſpouſed, he wiſhed that he had never undertaken the Combate: yet ſeeing that without the loſs of his honour, which he valued above a hundred lives, he could not refuſe the offer of his enemy: Brave Cavalier (anſwered he) I am ready to do as thou deſireſt; and if my courage do not deceive me, thy ſword can do me no more harm then thy Lance: In ſaying ſo, they both drew their ſwords, and began to lay on ſuch load, that fire ſparkled out of their arms, like unto a hot piece of Iron which the Smith is ſtriking upon his Anvil.

Polemas in the interim was diſputing for his life with Lindamor, whoſe agility at every blow made a freſh wound: At laſt, the Rebel finding himſelf wounded in ſeveral places, he reſolved to ſeek for that in his deſpair which he could not find [Page] in his valour, and to imploy his whole ſtrength at once; ſo as cloſing with Lindamor, he endeavoured to throw him to the ground; Lindamor, who was not at all weary with fighting, did eaſily perceive his deſign, ſo as preparing both his ſword and his foot for it, he ran the one up to the hilt into his thigh, and tript up his heels with the other ſo nimbly, that he laid him all along in the duſt. Polemas yet made ſome reſiſtance, but Lindamor finding out the defective part of his Curaſſe, did run his ſword ſo far into his body, that his ſoul came out before it.

Roſilion, who did not think his enemy would die upon that wound which he had received, he no ſooner ſaw him fall from his horſe but he alighted, and when he came unto him, ſeeing him give up his laſt breath, he preſently mounted again: This chanced to be at the very ſame time when Lindamor had diſpatched Polemas▪ ſo as now there remained none but Argonides: who remembring the conditions of the Combate, and ſeeing Roſilion and Lindamor approach, he recoyled two or three paces, and ſaid thus unto Sigiſmond; By that experience, Cavalier, which I have of thy valour, I know thou haſt no need of any aſſiſtance to vanquiſh me: I ſee here thy friends are come to help thee; if therefore thou wilt have the glory of vanquiſhing me alone, let them not do me any harm. Sigiſmond admiring the courage of his enemy, and thinking it pity to ruine him; do not think (anſwered he) that I will ſuffer any other arm but my own to get that victory of thee which is infallible; but if the deſire which I have to let thee live do concur with any deſire in thee not to die in ſo diſhonourable a cauſe, render up thy ſword unto me, and I will promiſe thee upon mine honour that none ſhall do thee any injury. Argonides ſeeing there was no diſputing againſt three, here generous Cavalier (ſaid he and ſurrendred his ſword) the honour to be overcome by thy courteſie, is as dear unto me, as the glory to overcome half the world. Then Sigiſmond took his ſword, and Roſilion and Lindamor being come near unto them, they heard Sigiſmond return this anſwer; how great ſoever the advantage I had over thee might be, yet I do acknowledge my ſelf more beholding unto the good fortune of my arms, then unto my own valour: yet ſince thou do freely yield unto me a victory which thou mighteſt ſtill diſpute, here (ſaid he) I do give thee thy arms again, upon a promiſe thou will never imploy them again againſt the ſervice of Amaſis: Argonides having ſolemnly ſworn that he would not, Lindamor ſent unto Ligonias, who was the ſole commander of Polemas his Army, to know whether he would obſerve the conditions of the Combate: unto which Ligonias himſelf coming to give an anſwer, and ſubmitting himſelf unto all that Lindamor commanded; he ordained the head of Polemas to be brought unto him, and his body to be very ſecretly buried with Liſtanders; and afterwards they all turned their courſe together towards the Town.

Amaſis, who all this while never took her eye off the Combatants, had a hundred ſeveral conceits in her mind; and as no miſery is ſo great, but there is ſtill ſome ſpark of hope in it; ſo the Nymph ſometimes conceited that happily this diſorder might produce ſomething to her benefit; yet ſhe was not long flattered with this imagination: for beginning to conſider that they were all her enemies, and that this Combate was only to deſide the controverſie which of them ſhould have the glory of doing her the moſt harm, ſhe fell again into her uſual apprehenſions, and loſt all thoſe hopes which her firſt thoughts had infuſed into her.

It was not long before ſhe obſerved that the Conquerours, in lieu of returning unto their Army. did come ſtraight unto Marcelles, and therefore ſhe advertiſed Godomar of it, who, no more then ſhe, could imagine the end of this adventure; and therefore he thought good to ſend Adamas unto the gate, to hear what propoſitions they would make. The Druide was no ſooner come to the gates, but the Conquerours met him, who crying in a loud voice, Liberty, Liberty, did put the ſpirit of Adamas into ſuch an amazement, that he knew not whether it was real or a Dream. The people, who longed for nothing ſo much as this contentment, they were ſo ſenſible of this word, that they run immediatly through all the ſtreets crying, Liberty, Liberty; ſo as their voices reached unto [Page] the walls of the Caſtle, and came unto the eares of the Nymph: This made her colour to come and go two or three times, and make her think the voice of the people to be the voice of God; yet ſhe had ſo many cauſes of fear that ſhe hardly durſt allow any room for hope: At the laſt Adamas came to aſſure her that the Gods were pitiful unto her; that Polemas was dead: That he who had overcome him deſired permiſſion to kiſſe her hand, and lay at her feet the Trophies of his victory: At this news Amaſis was ſo ſurpriſed with joy, as not being able to anſwer, ſhe entreated Godomar to ſupply her defect; and the Prince finding no danger in opening the gates, ſince they were ſo ſmall a number, Adamas went out in order thereunto; and Godomar himſelf, with all the Cavalry in the Town, went to meet them.

The novelty of this accident, and the noiſe which the Trumpets made in the ſtreets, did aſſemble together all the people of the Town, ſo as Lindamor found it to be better manned then he imagined: Adamas went before to advertiſe Amaſis of their arival: Godomar accompanied Sigiſmond, who ſeeing that his brother knew him not, did laugh under his arms to ſee him ſo deceived: Damon was upon the left hand of Roſilion, and Alcidon went in the middle between Lindamor and Argonides. In this order they came to the Caſtle, and Adamas receiving them at the gates, did carry them into a great Chamber where Amaſis was already, accompanied with all her Nymphs, and all the Ladies that were in Marcelles.

As ſoon as they entred, Amaſis aroſe from her chair, and Lindamor advancing (as it was agreed amongſt them) Madam (ſaid he in a loud voice, and kneeling upon the ground) your complaints have at the laſt reached heaven; and the juſtice of your cauſe hath moved us to leave a countrey where Mars has imployed our courages and our arms, to reſtore unto your people that Liberty which they deſire, and unto you that tranquility which you deſerve. Polemas is puniſhed for his perfidie, and his head which I do bring unto you, will witneſſe his defeat and my fidelity: Upon this he took it from his Page, and threw it at the feet of Amaſis; but the Nymph looking another way, and raiſing up the Cavalier, Sir, ſaid ſhe, what thanks ſoever I do give you for this benefit which I receive from your valour, they will ſtill come ſhort of that good will which I have to acknowledge it. And if you will compleat my joyes; take away the head of that Rebel, and let me ſee the face of my deliverer. Lindamor, who could not diſobey this command, did pul off his helmet, and ſtooping down to kiſſe the skirt of her garment, he was prevented by her, who knowing him, and taking him in her arms, ſhe could ſay nothing unto him but, ah Lindamor, Lindamor. Whether Galathea was glad of Lindamors return, I leave any to judge that ever was in love; but ſo it was, that ſhe ſtood like a ſtatue immoveable, and wavering between love and reſpect, ſhe was ſo tranſported, that ſhe ſeemed defective in both. At the laſt, Amaſis giving ſome reſpite to her Carreſſes, Lindamor preſented Sigiſmond and Roſilion unto her ſaying, here, Madam, are the Cavaliers unto whom all the favours you are pleaſed to confer upon me, are more juſtly due, and, who do better deſerve the title of your deliverers: Their courages have overcome all difficulties, and there is no obſtacle which they have not generouſly ſurmounted to relieve you: Then the two Princes advancing, and the Nymph received them with a countenance full of joy; but brave Lindamor (ſaid ſhe) ſince I am ſo infinitly obliged unto them, why will you not let me have the happineſſe of knowing them? Madam (anſwered Lindamor) do not wonder at their ſilence: They are Cavaliers, and have vowed not to diſcover themſelves until you have obtained from ſome Ladies that are about you, thoſe favours which they have a deſire to ask. The Nymph who was extreamly deſirous to ſee theſe perſons whom already ſhe eſteemed ſo dearly: I do believe (replied ſhe) that if it be a thing which they can lawfully grant, they will conſent unto it for my ſake: which moſt of the Ladies proteſting they would do, Sigiſmond took off his headpiece, and ſaluting Dorinde, Madam, ſaid he unto her, the favour that I ask from you, is only a pardon for being the cauſe of ſo much miſery unto you, ſince your coming from Lions: And I (ſaid Roſilion having uncovered his face) faireſt Roſanira, do claim [Page] from you the performance of that promiſe which you made unto my love, and that obeying the will of Policander, you receive me for your husband. Amaſis could not have the patience to permit theſe Ladies to anſwer: for hearing Godomar name the one Sigiſmond, and knowing Roſilion, ſhe ran to embrace them with more joy then is poſſible for any tongue to expreſſe.

Adamas had no ſooner done what was due at the arrival of theſe two Princes, and return of Lindamor, but he went to advertiſe Clindor of the joyes which Amaſis had received: He found with him all the Shepherds▪ and telling them the name and quality of the Conquerours: Children (ſaid he unto them) I am moſt heartily glad that all our enemies are dead in the perſon of Polemas, and that by the blood which Lindamor hath drawn from the veins of this Rebel, the gods have preſerved yours. I proteſt Father (ſaid Hylas and interrupted him) I am as glad of it as you: for I was ever more apprehenſive of an arrow from our enemies, though it did but hit my little toe, then I am of a hundred arrows which they ſay love ſhoots at our hearts. Yet let me tell you, anſwered Adamas, the wounds of the ſoul are much more dangerous then thoſe of the body: Yes, yes, replied the inconſtant man) unto melancholly people; but I who can in a moment find a hundred remedies to cure my ſelf of ſuch wounds, I had rather have twenty wounds in my ſoul, then a little ſcratch upon my body: Heaven (ſaid the Druide) has out of its abundant goodneſſe freed you from all fears of any harm: and as well a wiſher as I am unto the ſafety of Amaſis, I am as glad of your preſervation as of hers: Heaven (ſaid Aſtrea) has ſhewed unto us the effects of her piety; but is it not as much to be aſcribed unto the ſupplications and prayers of Alexis, ſince by her pious intention only of praying, ſhe hath obtained our deliverance? The gods (anſwered Alexis) have haſted their helping hands to ſhew that the juſt cauſe of Amaſis has more prevalency with them then all my prayers, the power whereof is ſo little, as it is almoſt impoſſible they ſhould ever obtain any thing they ask.

Ah Miſtreſſe (ſaid Aſtrea) pardon me if I ſay, that then they muſt be made into marble: for if they be directed unto any that have reaſon, it is abſolutely impoſſible you ſhould be denied any thing you ask; and for my part, I muſt tell you without flattery, that there is nothing in the world which you can require from me, but I ſhall moſt freely and willingly grant it. Take heed Servant, anſwered Alexis, that you do not engage your ſelf further by promiſes then you are willing to perform. No, no, ſaid Aſtrea, I will not except any thing; and I ſay it again, nay ſwear it by all that is ſacred, that you have the abſolute command of my life and all I have, and there is nothing which I would not moſt willingly do to pleaſe and obey you. We ſhall ſee that one day (ſaid Alexis) and in the mean time do not forget what you ſay, and remember that you have promiſed it before all this good company, ſo as you cannot go back without being blamed for too much Levity.

After ſome other diſcourſe, the Druide returned unto the Caſtle, to put Amaſis in mind of the Liberty which ſhe had promiſed unto Peledontes; and as ſoon as ever he made mention of him, the Nymph ſent to releaſe him out of priſon, and ſo graciouſly pardoned his crime, that this Cavalier for ever after was faithfull unto her. Adamas alſo preſented unto the Nymph the ſuffering of ſubjects ever ſince the rebellion of Polemas began, and the extremity under which they were ſtill preſſed, having at the leaſt ſixty thouſand Men quartering upon them: of whom the Nymph had ſo much compaſſion, that ſhe reſolved to take ſome courſe for their conſolation: ſhe communicated the matter unto Sigiſmond, Roſilion, and Godomar, who the very ſame hour took ſuch good order in the buſineſſe, that the next morning moſt of the troops were diſmiſſed and ready to depart the countrey: Sigiſmond diſpoſed Ligonias to take upon him the conduct of thoſe forces which he brought from Polemas, and gave him a Letter unto Gondebaut: Roſilion alſo writ unto the Queen Argira, intimating the ſucceſſe which they had: After this, the Nymph carried them unto the Temple, to be witneſſes of thoſe thanks which ſhe would render unto the gods for their goodneſſe in delivering her from the fears of captivity, to the enjoyment of perfect Liberty, in ſo ſhort a time. [Page] The reſt of the day was ſpent i [...] feaſting and joyes: ſo as in the exceſſe of this publick jollity, Amaſis did quite forget all her paſt miſeries; the death of Clidemant only remained in her memory, and therefore ſhe took Lindamor aſide to acquaint her withal that he had done ſince the death of her ſon: This Cavalier deſiring nothing with more paſſion then to teſtifie his obedience, did prepare himſelf to ſatisfie his curioſity; and whilſt the Cavaliers were diſcourſing with the Ladies and Nymphs in the Chamber, he held this diſcourſe.

The Sequel of the Hiſtory of CHILDERICK, of SILVIANA and of ANDRIMARTES.

I Do not know, Madam, whether that Cavalier whom I ſent unto you after the death of Clidemant, did well acquit himſelf of that commiſſion which I gave unto him; and whether he made a faithful relation unto you of all thoſe circumſtances which happened concerning the diſgrace of Childerick: He did relate unto us (anſwered Amaſis) the paſſion of that young King unto Silviana: his deſignes of breaking the marriage between Andrimartes and her; The violences he committed in the houſe of a new married woman in the abſence of her husband: The flight of Silviana in the habit of a boy; and laſtly, the revolt of the people, and the loſs of my ſon, which was almoſt ſeconded by the loſſe of your ſelf; for he told me that you were extreamly wounded in the ſame encounter. Then Madam, replied Lindamor, he hath neglected nothing which he was to relate unto you; but becauſe you do not know after what manner Silviana and Andrimartes met, nor what befel them ſince they came into Gaul Armorique, whereof Semnon hath made them ſuperiours, I ſhall relate the particulars unto you, having received them from themſelves: For Andrimartes, who honoured me with his love, paſſing by the city of Rhemois to complain unto Queen Methina of the extravagancies of her ſon, was pleaſed to viſit me as I lay in bed, by reaſon of my wounds, and related unto me theſe accidents which you ſhall hear: after this Lindamor was ſilent a while, afterwards he began his relation in this manner.

The good advice which Guyemant gave Childerick▪ did work ſo well upon the ſpirit of this young King, that he was fully reſolved in his very ſoul, and proteſted a thouſand times never to relaps into the ſame or the like ſin again; but the commotion of a people being much reſemblant unto Torrents, which in their firſt fury carry all before them that makes any reſiſtance, Childerick was forced to yield unto that enraged multitude that were riſen up againſt him, and to acknowledge, that to the reparation of a crime repentance is not alwayes ſufficient: he fled away therefore in a diſguiſe, as ſoon as he had divided the piece of gold with Guyemant: and becauſe he could not better commit his ſafety unto any, then thoſe whoſe fidelity and courage he had tryed, he deſired, although I was extreamly wounded, that I would bear him company until he came unto Baſin, Duke of Turin, into whoſe protection he reſolved to fly: I who after the death of Clidemant, did not at all value my life, did conſent unto his deſire; and though I knew unto what danger I expoſed my ſelf, yet I would go with him. And ſo we departed after he had bid adieu unto Guyemant, who ſhed tears at this ſad ſeparation. Childerick in this departure did ſhew the generoſity of his courage, which was the only good quality he had; for without ſo much as any changing colour, dear friend (ſaid he unto Guyemant) I do depart in purſuance of that councel which you have given me; and I would have you believe that my departure is a very great argument of that power which you have over me; but for you I had waſhed away the crime which I committed, with my own blood, and had not lived a minute after the loſs of my Crown: But ſince you promiſe me to labour for my reeſtabliſhment, I am reſolved to live, that you may know I do not deſpair of that [Page] help which I may receive from your prudence. After this intreating him afreſh to imploy his wiſdome in order thereunto, and embracing very affectionately, we took horſe, being accompanied with ſome Seguſian Cavaliers which then I had with me, and within a few dayes after we came to the city of Rhemois, by which Childerick would paſſe to acquaint the Queen his mother with his exile. It is the moſt lamentable ſpectacle that is imaginable to this ſad encounter: for as ſoon as Childerick entred into the Queens chamber, he did caſt himſelf at her feet; and that Princeſſe who knew not the cauſe of his coming, looking upon him with a more joyful aſpect then his misfortune required, ſhe advanced to embrace him; but he gently, thruſting her back, Madam (ſaid he unto her) do not prophane your pious hands by touching the ſinful corps of him whom the gods do hate, and who hath moſt ſhamefully diſhonoured you: How? ſaid the Queen, and was extreamly aſtoniſhed, are not you Childerick my ſon, the King of the Franks? I am indeed Childerick (anſwered he) whoſe crimes have made him unworthy the glory of being called your ſon, as the Franks have already taken from him the quality of King. Upon this the Queen ſuſpecting the misfortune which had hapned unto him: O Childerick, cryed ſhe out, what is this you ſay? In ſaying ſo, ſhe aroſe up with a ſtream of tears in her eyes, and the Prince being retreated back two or three paces, ſhe went unto him, and taking his hand, ſhe carried him into her cloſet.

She then ſent preſently for me, and as ſoon as I entred I offered to kiſſe her feet; but ſhe embracing me, ah Lindamor (ſaid ſhe unto me) how truly did Merovens Prophecy, and how unfortunate am I to ſee the effects of that which that poor King ſo much feared? Madam (ſaid I unto her) it is a misfortune which is now come to paſſe, and which none but the gods can now revoke: It is true, Lindamor (anſwered ſhe) but if Childerick had been virtuous, it was in his power to prevent it. I who knew what juſt cauſe ſhe had to accuſe him, but deſired to infuſe ſome conſolation unto thoſe ſorrows which I ſaw her ſuffer: Madam (ſaid I unto her) we are ſometimes hurried unto things by ſuch a ſecret and vehement violence, as it is almoſt impoſſible we ſhould reſiſt it, and it ſeems there is a kind of fatality in it, which is unavoidable. But (ſaid ſhe and interrupted) a man of any ſound judgement, and that has any reſpect unto the gods, will never obey the unruly fury of a brutiſh appetite; and how vehement and violent ſoever their inclinations be that puſh him forward, he will ſtill find ſuch arms in his virtue, as will be to ſurmount them: but (added ſhe and ſighed) Childerick had ever ſuch an inclination unto vice, as he alwayes held thoſe for his mortal enemies who endeavoured to divert him. His paſſion at thee, unto Silviana, replied I, could not abſolutely be termed vitious, ſince notwithſtanding the inequallity of their conditions, it had virtue for its object; but indeed, after he was out of any hopes to enjoy her, he ought to have extinguiſhed the deſires of it, and not to have endeavoured to diſhonour her: Did he offer any violence (ſaid the Queen unto me) unto Silviana? I did not well know what anſwer to return, when caſting his eyes upon me, Nay, nay, (ſaid he) go on boldly, and ſatisfie the Queens curioſity: make me as enormous as you can, you cannot deſcribe me ſo wicked as my own conſcience tells me I am. Sir, anſwered I, and turned towards him, ſince you are pleaſed to command me, and ſince the Queen deſires to be informed of all paſſages, I will not conceal any thing from her: Then I related all unto her, yet adding ſome arguments that might in ſome ſort extenuate his crime, and render it pardonable.

I had no ſooner ended my diſcourſe, but this afflicted Princeſſe addreſſing her ſelf unto her ſon: Now Childerick (ſaid ſhe unto him) you find a recompence for all your actions: now you are without a Crown, without a Scepter, and in a condition to ſeek the protection of another; now you are depoſed from the title of a King, to aſſume that of a Tyrant, and I without any other conſolation amidſt ſo many calamities, but what I receive in admiring the juſt judgement of the gods in your puniſhment. O ye moſt juſt Deities (ſaid ſhe, lifting up her eyes and hands to heaven) I do call you all as witneſſes of my innocency, and do earneſtly beſeech you to turn away your anger from our family; you only do know the [Page] thoughts of my ſoul, and puniſh m [...] if ever I have neglected any care in the good education of my ſon, either by diſcourſe or example: In ſaying ſo ſhe begun to ſhed ſuch abundance of tears, that I had much ado to reſtrain mine. Childerick after he had ſtudied a little upon it; Madam (ſaid he unto her) though I had a ſoul that was altogether inſenſible of any ſorrow for my ſins, yet your tears are able to inſpire me with repentance: And believe it, my ſoul is ſo exceedingly ſorry for what I have done, that I would moſt willingly do any pennance in the world to repair it; but not knowing any ſatisfaction that equal the grandure of my ſin, I do moſt humbly beg of you, Madam, a pardon for this offence, to the end the gods, after your example, may ceaſe to purſue me, ſince they have already made me very ſenſible of the effects of their vengeance.

The Queen was ſo full of ſorrow, that ſhe ſuffered Childerick to continue upon his knees, and knew not what to do; but at the laſt raiſing him up, Childerick ſaid ſhe unto him) I beſeech the gods as freely to forgive you as I do, and may your repentance move them as much as it hath overcome me. But conſider how much I ſuffer for the haynouſneſſe of your crime; and if my commands have not prevalence enough in them to keep you from relaps, let the conſideration of your own Intereſt be ſo preualent with you.

It is not pertinent to relate unto you, Madam, all the promiſes which Childerick made unto her, nor the reſt of the diſcourſe which the Queen and he had together: It is ſufficient you know that ſhe accompanied us with a Letter unto the Duke of Thurin, and ſuffered us to depart the next morning, which we did; and I aſſure you, though I had a very excellent Chirurgeon with me, who dreſſed my wounds every day, yet the length of the way was very troubleſome unto me. But within a few dayes, we came to Thurin, where we were kindly received; for Baſſin, being both the couſin and allie of Childerick, was very ſorry to ſee him in ſuch affliction, which made us confident of obtaining that reception which we hoped for: As ſoon as I preſented the Queens Letter unto him, he opened it, and having read it, ſhewed it unto me; afterwards he addreſſed himſelf unto Childerick, and proteſted that he would protect him againſt any that had any deſigns to hurt him: perhaps then (ſaid Amaſis and interrupted him) you have the Letter which the Queen did write unto him, for it was left in your hands: I believe I have, Madam, anſwered Lindamor, and if you have a deſire to ſee it, I am confident I can find it: The Queen expreſſing much deſire to have a ſight of it, he put his band into his pocket, and amongſt many other papers he found it; which opening he read theſe words.

The Letter of Queen METHINA unto BASSIN Duke of Thurin.

CHilderick does come to caſt himſelf into your arms, in hopes to find a fafe ſanctuary against all the misfortunes that perſecute him: but if there be as great an inequalitie in your inclinations as there is diſproportion between his vice and your virtue, I expect but a very bad ſucceſſe of his voyage: Yet if the kindneſse which you have ever expreſsed unto the mother, can be any way communicated to the ſon, I ſhall not altogether deſpair of his ſafety, but will at the leaſt believe that you will favour him ſo far as to let him live. His ſins have offended heaven, and I fear that in revenge it will not let him find a ſafe retreat upon earth: But be the anger of the gods never ſo much exaſperated againſt us, yet I know that they are not always inexorable, nor ſo deaf, but his repentance and my tears may open their eares, if you once begin to be ſenſible of thoſe tears which I mingle with the ink that writes theſe lines. Take therefore ſome pity, I beſeech you, upon the affliction of [Page] Methina, and upon the miſeries of Childerick, and ſince both the one and the other have the honour of ſome alliance unto you, let their intereſt be in ſome ſort yours, and let that little hope which I have remaining, be kept alive under your protection.

This, Madam (ſaid Londamor) was the Queens Letter unto him, which had ſuch influence upon his ſoul, that he proteſted, as I told you before, to ſerve and protect him againſt all whomſoever. For my part, I made as little ſtay at Thurin as I could, becauſe Guyemant ſo adviſed me; but though my deſires of returning ſoon unto you were never ſo great, yet I could not: for being engaged to return unto the City of Rhemois, to acquaint the Queen with the good reception of Childerick, my travel did cauſe two of my wounds to open, and a Feaver ſeizing upon me, I was forced to yield unto the violence of my diſeaſe, I was brought into ſuch a condition, that I almoſt deſpaired of my recovery.

In the mean time, Silviana was gone from Paris in the habit of one of Andrenecks children, and had with her only the wife of that good man, and one that was ſervant unto Andrimartes: It hapned, that being gone from under the hedge where they lay all the night, and being in the high way towards Gandelu, ſhe had not gone above half a mile, but ſhe heard a great noiſe of men and horſes coming towards her: Her fears, by reaſon of the danger which ſhe ſhunned the day before, did make her preſently look about: and becauſe ſhe ſaw they gallopped very faſt, and heard them cry, ſtay, ſtay: O God (ſaid ſhe unto the wife of Andreneck) yonders the Tyrant ſtill purſuing me; but (ſaid ſhe) if you eſcape with your life, I command you to tell my Andrimartes, that I will die before they ſhall do any injury unto my honour or his: in ſaying ſo ſhe drew her ſword, and looking for no ſafety by flying, ſhe ſtood ſtill, and expected the ſucceſſe of her Fortune.

Mean time, thoſe that purſued her came ſo near as to obſerve her poſture, and taking her for a Cavalier, they wondered what ſhould move him to ſtand ſo in a poſture of defence: thinking it fit to ask the reaſon of it, they made a ſtand ſome fourty or fifty paces diſtant, and ſent one of their company to ask why he ſtood ſo with his ſword drawn. Silviana, ſtill ſeeming a Cavalier, ſhe anſwered boldly, that about two dayes ſince, a Traytour had made ſome attempts againſt his honour, and thinking that he was now come to execute his murderous deſign, was the cauſe of his ſtanding in the poſture of a man that would ſell his life at a dear rate: Then the man aſſured him, that thoſe whom he ſuſpected, would alwayes be more ready to ſerve, then to hurt him, and the reaſon why they rid after him, was, becauſe they took him for one of their friends, who went from their houſe not above an hour ſince, and hearing that a Hart was to be courſed, they called him to be a partaker of their ſport. Silviana, very glad of her miſtake did put her ſword, and began to prepare her ſelf for the continuance of her voyage; but the man deſiring to know her name: My name (anſwered ſhe) is Cephindres, who ſhall think himſelf very happy in any occaſion to ſerve you. Upon this, ſhe rid away, and going towards Gandelu, ſhe obſerved that thoſe who had followed her, did go into a thick wood which was upon the right hand. In the mean time, Andrenecks wife ſeeing her ſelf out of that danger which ſo affrighted her, ſhe began to be a little angry, but ſo handſomly, that the brave Cephindres could not forbear laughing: Madam (ſaid the good woman unto her) if you be ſo forward to draw your ſword, and defie all you meet, I beſeech you make it your profeſſion to be a Knight errant, and maintain my beauty againſt all the world; but to tell you truly, I think your courage was not very ſeaſonable: Good mother (anſwered Silviana) what I did was not ſo much out of ſeaſon as you imagine; for conſider what abundance of reaſon I have to fear: Childerick, ſeeks my ruine, and perhaps at this very hour is lying in ambuſh for me, or elſe ſending after me. Childerick (replied the good old woman) hath now other matters in his head; and let him uſe what endeavours to get you he can, I believe [Page] it is out of his power; this habit does ſo diſguiſe you, that you can never be known, and therefore, I ſay, you were too much ſtartled at the arrival of theſe Cavaliers, and ſhould have truſted more to your diſguiſe then your valour. Alas, replied Silviana, you do not know what an exaſperated ſpirit may do; and I am in ſuch a great diſtruſt, that I think fidelity it ſelf may deceive me: there is nothing ſo cruel, but I have reaſon to expect it from the malice of Childerick, I believe that Tyrant will put Andreneck to ſuch torments, as will force him to confeſſe the truth, and know from him, what the boy which was our guide did communicate unto him of our deſigne. For heavens ſake, Madam (ſaid the woman) do not entertain any ſuch thoughts, but believe that he will ſooner periſh then do any thing which ſhall be prejudicial unto you or Andrimartes: Good woman (ſaid Silviana) when we feel no pain, we are perſwaded the moſt cruel torments are not able to force any ſecret from us, but in the extremity of pain, it is a moſt hard matter to continue conſtant; and therefore imagining that Childerick will put him to the rack, I am afraid he will confeſſe that which I would not have him diſcover unto any.

With ſuch or ſuch like diſcourſe as this, they beguiled the length of the way, and Silviana, who longed with abundance of impatiency, for a ſight of her dear Andrimartes, ſhe imagined every man that appeared to be him: yet for all her eager deſire of it, ſhe found her ſelf miſtaken, and all that journey could not hear any news of him. The wife of Andreneck did comfort her as well as ſhe could, and ſtill the young man that guided them, affirmed that Andrimartes could not come any other way but this which they went: after this ſort ſhe came to Gandelu, where indeed ſhe lay, but did not reſt; for her eager deſire of departing, did invite to riſe before Aurora; and as ſoon as ſhe was on horſeback ſhe took the way of Coucye.

I, ſhould tyer you, Madam, if I ſhould relate unto you all the thoughts which afflicted her during her voyage: for ſhe was in a perpetual reſtleſneſſe; and from the time ſhe firſt fancied that Andrimartes had taken ſome other way, ſhe was almoſt quite deſperate; but all theſe fears were nothing in compariſon of that which ſhe apprehended, that Childerick had procured ſome to be his aſſaſſinates: when this came into her fancy ſhe changed colour, afterwards would ſigh, and laſtly, her eyes guſh out with tears: ah mother (would ſhe ſay unto the wife of Andreneck) I am afraid all our labour in this journey is but loſt. The good woman who wondered at this change, why (ſaid ſhe) have you that opinion? becauſe I fear (anſwered Silviana) that yonder Barbarian hath murdered Andrimartes. Good God, ſaid the woman, why ſay you ſo? the very ſuſpition of ſuch a thing makes me to tremble: for God ſake do not imagine any ſuch thing can be, for ſuch misfortunes ſeldome happen, but I uſe to have ſome preſages of it beforehand: The likelyhood of it, replied Silviana, makes me fear it; for reckon from the time of his departure, and judge whether he ſhould not be returned before this. Andrenecks wife began to think with her ſelf, and to count the dayes upon her fingers; truly, ſaid ſhe, according to my weak judgement, let him make what haſt he could, he could not be returned thus far before this time: the boy who guided them, caſting up his account alſo; aſſure your ſelf, Madam (ſaid he upon a ſudden) the woman is in the right; for her account and mine do perfectly agree.

Upon this they came to the top of a little hill, which ſurveying all the plain beyond it, permitted Silviana to ſpie ſome horſemen afar off, who came in great haſt towards them; at the firſt▪ ſhe could not diſtinguiſh neither the perſons nor the number; but ſhewing them unto Andrenecks wife, Mother (ſaid ſhe) do you not perceive ſome men coming towards us? I have a conceit that it is Andrimartes: The good old woman whoſe ſight was ſomthing dim, I do not ſee any ſuch, anſwered ſhe; but if it prove Andrimartes, as I pray heaven it may, what then will you do? I ſhall even die, anſwered Silviana, with exceſſe of joy: No, no, replied ſhe, you had better fight with him, or at the leaſt defie him, as you did yeſterday the Cavaliers. Alas, anſwered ſhe, it is long ſince he overcame me; in ſaying ſo, ſhe fixed her eyes ſtill upon the men which ſhe ſaw, and as ſoon as ever [Page] ſhe perceived one with a plume of white feathers in his hat, ſhe clapped her hands together: O mother▪ ſaid ſhe, yonder is Andrimartes, I know him both by his feather and his habit. Madam (anſwered the woman) if it be he, I would adviſe you keep your ſelf ſtill to your diſguiſe, and try if he will know us: Doubtleſſe, replied Silviana, he will know us; for his ſervant is not diſguiſed as we are: As for that, replied the woman, there is a remedy, for he may hide himſelf until we call him. Upon this, Silviana commanded the young man to ſtand behind a tree, which he did accordingly; but Silviana, who in the exceſſe of her joyes minded not what ſhe did, ſhe never heeded her bridle, and her horſe being almoſt tired, did ſtumble ſo downright, that Cephindres, who was none of the beſt horſemen, did fall three or four lengths before the horſe: This fall did much harm in the preſence of her husband; but ſhe got up preſently, and told the good woman, that all the harm ſhe had was a little hurt upon her noſe; which, indeed, did fall ſo againſt the ground, that blood guſhed out.

Andrimartes was already ſo near, that he ſaw Cephindres fall, and therefore to help him he galopped as faſt as he could, and came unto him juſt as he was got up upon his feet; and becauſe Silviana did preſently take out her handkerchief, and held it unto her noſe to receive the blood, Andrimartes could not poſſibly know her; yet thinking himſelf obliged by the laws of civility to ſay ſomething to him, Sir, ſaid he, I made all the haſte that poſſibly I could to help you, but now I ſee you do not ſtand in any need of my ſervice: Silviana bluſhed when ſhe heard him ſpeak, and could hardly forbear revealing her ſelf; yet deſiring to make ſome ſport in this diſguiſe, Sir, anſwered ſhe, and altered her voice, your intention was the ſame, and does infinitly oblige me in ſaying ſo, ſhe looked upon him with the ſame eyes which had long ſince inflamed him, and Andrimartes obſerving ſome glances, which formerly made him ſenſible of loves power, he had a confuſed fancy, that he had formerly ſeen that Cavalier in ſome other place; and as he was ready to ſpeak unto her, he obſerved that her horſe was broke looſe, and ran up and down the fields; and therefore he commanded thoſe that waited upon him to run after the horſe, and bring him back: In the interim he alighted from his horſe, and entreated this unknown Cavalier to ſit down upon the point of a rock which was in the high way; which Silviana did not refuſe, for indeed ſhe was neceſſitated unto it; and Andrimartes knowing the name of Cephindres, he beſeeched her to tell him what news was ſtirring in the world.

Silviana being reſolved to perplex him as much as ſhe could, to make him think the meeting with her more ſweet: The news (anſwered ſhe) which I do know, will fill you fuller of horrour then delight when you hear it; for being (as I ſuppoſe you are) a Frank by Nation, as I my ſelf am, it is impoſſible but you muſt needs abhor to hear of ſo many, and ſo great crimes in a Monarch, who may boaſt that he has the moſt glorious Empire in the Univerſe under his government: yet ſince your civility would tax me with a crime if I did diſobey you, I will tell you, that Childerick has ſtained his honour, by committing the moſt fouleſt and wicked act, that ever any Tyrant was guilty of. Andrimartes trembled at this diſcourſe▪ which Silviana perceived, and continued thus: His impiety is ſo high, that it has emboldned him to diſhonour a woman, whoſe merit and virtue was as high as her beauty; and it is probable that you having been at Court have ſeen her with eyes of admiration; for Silviana (that's her name) was never looked upon by any eye, but ſhe won the heart of him that owned it. At the name of Silviana, Andrimartes was daſh'd quite out of countenance, and riſing up as if he were tranſported: O Heavens (ſaid he in a loud voice) has that barbarous Tyrant ſatisfied his brutiſh fury? has he triumphed over the virtue of Silviana, and the honour of Andrimartes? Indeed, replied Silviana, he did attempt it, but the reſiſtance of that young woman, did fruſtrate the deſign of that Luxurious Tyrant; and her virtue made her have recourſe unto a remedy, which was no leſſe neceſſary then violent.

The laſt words did a little calme the ſpirit of the Cavalier, and therefore addreſſing himſelf unto Cephindres, who kept her handkerchief ſtill before her face: [Page] Cavalier (ſaid he unto her) I beſeech you relate unto me the particulars of this paſſage, and ſuffer not my ſoul any longer to languiſh in this inquietude wherein it is: why? ſaid the pretended Cephindres, have you any concernment in the accident? So great (anſwered the Cavalier) that Andrimartes himſelf has not a greater intereſt in it then I have. Then (ſaid Silviana) I will certainly make the relation of it unto you; and though I do not think you can apply any remedy unto it, yet I will give you the relation, that you may afterwards behave your ſelf according to your beſt diſcretion: upon this Andrimartes took his handkerchief out of his pocket, and laying it upon his hand, he leaned his head thereon, and Silviana ſeeing him look down with a drooping countenance, ſhe grew the more bold, and taking away hers which ſhe held before her noſe, ſhe purſued on her diſcourſe thus.

Were I but acquainted with the ſucceſſe which accompanied the love of Andrimartes and Silviana, I ſhould take more delight in making a relation thereof unto you; and you alſo would be glad, I believe, to hear it; but ſince I am ignorant in the ſtory of their lives, and know nothing but what has hapned ſince their marriage, I muſt only tell you, that as ſoon as ever they came to reap the fruit of all their labours and pains, Childerick under a faigned and imaginary pretence, began to diſturb that tranquility which they were to enjoy: and becauſe the love of that Prince unto Silviana, had no legal foundation, he did not keep within compaſſe of diſcretion, but on the contrary, it made him attempt to corrupt or to force her. He ſent therefore Andrimartes unto the Queen Methina, to the end, that in his abſence he might have the better opportunity to execrate his pernicious intention; and as ſoon as ever that Cavalier was gone, he took his time ſo, as he came unto Silvianas houſe when none was with her but an old woman, who was ſhe from whom the whole truth was known.

You may eaſily imagine how much Silviana was aſtoniſhed when ſhe ſaw Childerick enter; yet ſhe did ſet as good a countenance upon her fears and diſpleaſure as ſhe could, and coming unto him with a look far different from the thoughts of her heart, ſhe would have ſaid ſomething unto him; but Childerick preventing her, fell down upon his knees, and taking her hand offered to kiſſe it: at which Silviana was ſo ſurprized, that ſhe pulled it away from him: upon this the Prince roſe up, and ſitting down upon a ſeat, he forced this young woman to ſit down by him; and there, after ſome amorous looks, accompanied with a hundred ſighs; Come, come, fair Silviana (ſaid he unto her in a ſudden rapture) why ſhould you deny me that favour which Andrimantes hath already obtained obtained? Since time and opportunity allows it, why ſhould we not enjoy that pleaſure which I eſteem the ſweeteſt of all my life: Miſtruſt not my diſcretion, night it ſelf ſhall not be ſo ſilent and ſecret as I ſhall be. At theſe words Silvania bluſh'd, and being in ſuch a ſtate, as without a ſin againſt her duty, ſhe could not hear ſuch diſcourſe from any mouth, but that of her dear Andrimartes: Sir (ſaid ſhe unto him very boldly) I do very well know the duty that I do ow unto my husband, and though I do not doubt of your diſcretion, yet let me tell you, that you do but in vain attempt to make me guilty of an act, which the eye of heaven will moſt ſeverely puniſh. Silviana ſaid ſomething elſe which the Prince did hearken unto with a very impatient eare; but Silviana (ſaid he unto her) why do you perſiſt ſo obſtinately in a refuſal? to preſerve that (anſwered ſhe) which I will never loſe but with my life: perhaps you may be deceived, replied he, for you are not ſtrong enough to reſiſt my will; and believe it, if you continue in your denial, you will force me to uſe that violence which will overcome your cruelty.

In ſaying ſo, he took hold upon one of her arms, and would have ſeized upon the other, but Silviana pulled it away, and catching hold of the Princes hair: hold off Sir, cryed ſhe out, or elſe you will force me to go beyond the limits of that reſpect which I ow unto your birth. Childerick, who would not any longer defer the execution of his wicked intention, he called out for ſome men who came with him for that end, who opening the door, and ſeizing upon Silviana, would have thrown her upon the bed. She who ſaw that all reſiſtance was in vain, did [Page] at that inſtant fix upon a moſt ſtrange reſolution, and promiſed Childerick the ſatisfaction of his deſires, ſo he would diſmiſſe thoſe men: Childerick flattering himſelf with this ſweet promiſe, did command them to withdraw, and they obeying, Silv [...]ana went nearer the Prince, and deſired him to let her put off ſome of her clothes in her cloſet; to which the Prince conſenting, Silviana put off her gown, and all her rich ornaments: afterwards coming out again, all undreſt, and her breſts and arms almoſt all naked, and Childerick ſeeing her in this amorous equipage, he was infinitely raviſhed; and being tranſported with joyes, in hope to enjoy ſuch a beauty, he roſe up and offered to embrace her; but ſhe pulling out a Poniard which he had prepared: Stay (ſaid ſhe) upon pain of your life, and hearken unto me: upon this command, the Prince ſtopt upon a ſudden, not knowing for what deſigne ſhe brought thoſe arms; and then ſhe ſaid unto him, ſee here, thou cruel Tyrant, this is the remedy againſt thy luxurious fury: This, this, ſhall put an end unto my dayes and thy impudent luſt; this ſhall help me to quench thy fire with my blood, ſince all my tears were not able to do it. Turn now thy luſtful love into an honeſt compaſſion, and let not this corps of mine, when it is dead, be poluted with one of thy looks: Andrimartes will revenge himſelf upon thee; and if the gods will ſuffer the truth of this action to appear unto the eyes of the world, they will know that I had rather die then ſin againſt heaven or him; and thou ſhalt ſee that it is an eaſier matter to triumph over my life, then my honour. Hereupon, this fair one did give her ſelf two ſuch great blows upon a vein, that all ſhe could do before ſhe died, was to utter theſe two words, adieu Andrimartes.

Silviana could not chuſe but to laugh to her ſelf, as ſhe related this laſt accident; but it was not long before ſhe repented of her mirth, for Andrimartes lifting up his eyes, and looking upon Cephindres: Do you then aſſure me (ſaid he ſadly unto her) that Silviana is not alive? She is not alive (anſwered Silviana) unleſſe ſhe live in you: in ſaying ſo ſhe put her handkercheif before her face; and the Cavalier, who heard that Silviana did not live unleſſe in him, alas (ſaid he) then the life that ſhe has will be my death: Upon this he ſtopt, and put his handkerchief to his eyes; afterwards upon a ſudden he ſaid, yet my misfortune is not without a remedy: for as my deareſt Silviana could dy becauſe ſhe would not offend me, I can do the ſame to follow her; and you Cavalier (ſaid he and looked upon Cephindres with an eye of rapture) as you have been an eye witneſſe of Silviana's courage, ſo ſhall you be of my deſpair: In ſaying ſo he laid his hand upon his ſword, and drawing it out of the ſcabbard, Silviana cloſed with him, and ſeizing upon his arm, did all ſhe could to keep him from running it into his body; yet all her ſtrength had not ſerved, if the wife of Andreneck had not alſo fallen upon him, and he ſtriving with them both, they all three fell to the ground together,

[...]oſe that were in purſuit of Silvianas horſe returned back; and ſeeing their [...] [...]own with a naked ſword in his hand, ſtriving againſt two men, they [...] that their intention was to murder him: They galloped up therefore as [...] [...]hey could, and the foremoſt of them alighting from his horſe; ah ye villa [...] cryed he out, ye ſhall never execute your wicked intention: As he ſaid ſo, he r [...]n with his ſword drawn againſt Silviana, and had run her through, if the ſervant of Andrimartes, who was hid behind a tree, had not at the ſame time come in, and cryed out that it was Silviana: Silviana, hearing her ſelf named, did preſently turn her head about, and ſeeing what danger ſhe was in, did think ſome miſchief might enſue, if ſhe continued her diſguiſe any longer. Deſiring therefore to give her dear Andrimartes that contentment which ſhe had concealed from him Andrimartes, ſaid ſhe, is it poſſible you ſhould not know the face of your Silviana? Do you recompence the pains I have taken in ſeeking after you, with oblivion in lieu of love? Upon this An [...]rimartes looked ſeriouſly upon her, and ſeeing nothing before her face which might hinder him from knowing her, he came out of that errour into which Silviana had put him; and knowing both his ſervant and the wife of Andreneck: Fie, fie, ſaid he, and took Silviana in his arms, what crime have I committed, that you ſhould puniſh me with the invention [Page] of ſuch ſad news? Silviana not able to anſwer him any other way but with kiſſes, it was long before ſhe ſpoke one word: at laſt, making her ſex known better by her tears then her habit, ſhe gave him a particular accompt of all that paſſed ſince his departure.

Andrimartes then knowing in earneſt how far the inſolency of Childerick was grown, he intended to retire ſpeedily into Gaul Armorique, and to ſpare no pains in the drawing a memorable revenge from this libidinous Tyrant; yet conceiving it a kind of ingratitude to depart, before he had returned thanks unto the Queen Methina, for the favours ſhe had ſhewed unto Silviana and him, he reſolved to paſſe by her: ſo as taking horſe, they took that way from whence Andrimartes already came.

But, Madam, humane intentions do often meet with many rubbs before they arrive at their accompliſhment; and the ſequel of this diſcourſe will let you know, that Fortune does often cauſe us to find a ſhipwrack, where we thought to find a ſafe harbour.

Andrimartes was not gone above half the way to Rhemoi, when, leſt the ſchorching heat of the Sun ſhould be offenſive unto Silviana, he deſired her to alight and reſt her ſelf under a ſhade of willows, untill the heat was over: She, who had no will but to pleaſe him did preſently alight, and the Cavalier doing the ſame, they left their horſes and went into a large meadow which was near the high way: there they found two rows of little trees, which art had planted in a ſtraight line; between which was a pleaſant walk, and becauſe the place ſeemed very delightful unto them, they reſolved not to ſtir from thence, until the Sun, and the flames of their love, were a little cooled and abated of their violence; yet as he began to ſuck the ſweet of thoſe which were upon Silvianas lips, he was, notwithſtanding the raviſhment of his ſoul, conſtrained to retire, by reaſon ſome ſwords which he heard claſhing very near them: he had no ſooner turned his head, but he eſpied in the next meadow two men with ſwords drawn, and ſtriving withal their ſtrength to take away the lives of each other: and becauſe he thought he could not do a better office then to part them, he paſſed through the willows, and run with his ſword drawn towards them, intending to prevent their Combate from becomming a Tragedy; but he, of the Combatants, who thought himſelf moſt injured, thirſting for revenge, he no ſooner ſaw Andrimartes coming, but he reſolved preſently either to dy or to vanquiſh; and therefore he fell moſt deſperately upon his enemy, and made ſuch a lucky paſs, as he ran his ſword through his bod, which wound proved mortal: after this, he preſently eſcaped; and all that Andrimartes could do, was to come time enough to hold up the corps of the wounded Combatant, who beginning to ſtagger, and not able to ſuſtain himſelf, he fell into the arms of this Cavalier, and in a dying tone, ſaid unto him: Know Cavalier, whoſoever you are, that I am moſt juſtly puniſhed; my vanquiſher hath earned a juſt revenge for an injury, which he could not put up without the loſs of his reputation: whilſt he was ſaying ſo, Silviana, who followed Andrimantes, came unto him, and tore her handkerchief to ſtop the wounds of the man; but he finding himſelf out of all hopes to live, lifting up his eyes to heaven, and afterwards fixing them upon Andrimartes: Alas, alas, ſaid he (with a feeble and ſighing voice) your courteſie in helping me is in vain, I know my death to be inevitable; yet that this benefit may not altogether be uſeleſſe, let it ſerve for a diſcharge of him that has ſlain me, whom I do pardon as freely, as I wiſh he would forget the offence formerly he received from me: upon this he ſtopt, and loſing both his ſpeech and his life, he remained cold in the arms of Andrimartes, who was exceedingly troubled at the accident; but ſince there was no remedy, he took up his ſword which he caſt upon the ground, to be the more fit for helping the wounded man: afterwards preſenting his hand unto his dear Silviana, they returned to their horſes, and went on their journey.

They were not gone above three or fovr hundred paces, but they met a great number of horſmen, who ſeeing Andrimartes and Silviana ſtained with blood in ſeveral places▪ they began to murmure amongſt themſelves: afterwards dividing themſelves, ſome followed within ſight of Andrimartes, and others went on to [Page] ſee whether they could hear any news of that misfortune which they ſuſpected ſomething: As ſoon as they found the body of Cl [...]ſioderus (for that was the name of him that was ſlain) ſome galloped as faſt as they could to acquaint thoſe that followed Andrimartes: and afterwards all together, ſeized upon him, Silviana, and all their company, before they could ſo much as defend themſelves: Judge, Madam, how much they were amazed, when they ſaw themſelves thus treated; eſpecially when an old man, who was hardly able to ſpeak for anger, addreſſing himſelf unto Andrimartes: Perhap, murderer (ſaid he unto him) thou thinkeſt the day to be as black as thy crime, and that thou canſt hide the infamy wherewith thou art branded for murdering my ſon; but the gods have ſuffered it to be diſcovered, and before two dayes be exſpired thou ſhalt ſuffer what the Laws have ordained againſt thee and thy Complices.

Andrimartes, ſeeing himſelf ſuſpected for a murder of which he was a witneſs, and not an actour; and thinking he was more obliged to anſwer unto the injury of the old man, then to plead in behalf of his innocency, alſo relating the the action which he had ſeen, he looked upon him with an eye nothing like a guilty perſon, and ſaid unto him, I am neither guilty of any black actions, nor any murder of thy ſon; but my actions are irreproachable, and will help me to give the ly unto any that dare ſuſpect me of any perfidie: The old man was ſo enraged at this anſwer, that he with the ſame ſword which he took from Andrimartes, had run him through, if one of his ſervants had not fortunately ſtayed his arm, and told him that it was too much for a priſoner to die by his hand, but fitter to periſh by that of a hangman: this conſideration ſtayed the hand of the hand of the old man. But Silviana ſeeing him ſo near death, was ſo frighted, that ſhe knew not what ſhe did; and her eyes twinkling, ſhe began to ſtagger, and doubtleſſe had fallen, if ſome that ſtood by her had not taken her by the arm, and held her up as long as her ſwound continued: yet they not knowing the true cauſe of her ſorrows, they thought it had been only remorſe of conſcience for the crime which they thought ſhe had committed. The wife of Andreneck alſo looked as pale as death, and amidſt her ſighs and tears, letting the word Madam ſometimes eſcape her tongue, ſhe cauſed thoſe that looked upon her to think that fear of puniſhment had already diſtracted.

In this manner they carried them into the Town of Fiſme, which is not far from the City of Rhemois, and there they ſhut up in a moſt naſty priſon, where the Sun was aſhamed ever to ſhine. I cannot expreſſe, Madam, the ſorrows of Silviana and Andrimartes for their captivity: I will therefore only tell you how they got out.

He who killed Cloſiodorus, had no ſooner given him his deaths wound, but he fled away as I told you before; and getting into the next Town, he changed his habit with the firſt Shepherd that he met, hoping to get unto his own houſe by the help of this diſguiſe; yet hearing in the beginning of the night, that the Cavalier who came into the meadow to part them, was ſeized upon as guilty of the fact, he altered his mind, and reſolved to die, rather then let the innocence of Andrimartes ſuffer for the murder which he only had committed. In order to the effecting of this reſolution, he wended his way towards that City, and there reſting himſelf as long as the night laſted, he came unto the Pallace of the Queen Methina, as ſhe was going unto the Temple to offer a Sacrifice in the behalf of Childerick. As ſoon as be perceived her he ſtepped forward, and hit upon his opportunity ſo handſomly, that he had caſt himſelf at her feet, before any came to give him the ſtop: The Queen, who is the ſweeteſt Princeſſe that evere bore a Scepter, did preſently ſtand ſtill, and caſting her eye upon this Shepherd, did ask him what he would have? Madam (anſwered the ſtranger) I do upon my humble knees, moſt earneſtly beſeech your Majeſty to grant unto me my life, and to hear thoſe reaſons which perhaps will move your clemency not to deny it: what have you committed (ſaid the Queen) that does deſerve death? my crime is (replied the ſtranger) that becauſe I could not live after the loſſe of my honour, I have taken away the life of a man, that would have taken it from me. How? replied the Queen and ſmiled, are the Laws of honour as inviolable amongſt Shepherds [Page] as amongſt Courtiers? This habit, Madam, which you ſee me wear (ſaid he) is not ſutable unto my quality; but I did aſſume it only as a means to bring me in ſafety unto your preſence. The Queen apprehending ſome myſtery in the matter, which deſerved better examination: Well (ſaid ſhe) at my return from the Temple, I will hear your reaſons and do you Juſtice. In ſaying ſo ſhe went on, and the ſtranger was no ſooner riſen up, but he was compaſſed about with a great number of Cavaliers, who would not leave him until they knew his adventure. The Sacrifice being ended, the ſtranger was conducted into the Pallace, and from thence into the Queens chamber, who no ſooner commanded him to ſpeak, but he faithfully related the offence which he had received from Cleſiodorus: He told her how in Lions they had both been rivals in the ſervice of a great beauty, and how Cleſiodorus, prompted unto it by the motions of his jealouſie, was reſolved to ruine his reputation▪ In order unto this, Cleſiodorus had aſſembled many of his friends together, and meeting him as he was ſingle by himſelf, he ſtruck him three times with a baſtinado, before he could have time to defend himſelf: afterwards all his friends fell upon him at once, and uſed him ſo ill, that they left him for dead in the ſtreet: after this he related how he recovered, and how the flight of Cleſiodorus made him to ſeek him out in another Countrey, where having found him, he challenged him the field, where he did let out ſo much of his blood, as to waſh off the diſhonour that had ſtained his reputation. But Madam (continued he) ſince this, has hapned an accident, which doth extreamly perplex me: Two Cavaliers who came to part Cleſiodorus and me, are, as I am informed, seized upon as culpable of this homicide: and becauſe they are put into a priſon in Fiſmes, I am afraid their innocence will not ſufficiently appear, unleſſe my confeſſion do clear it: and therefore though I could have paſſed away without being either taken or known, yet I reſolved to ſubmit my ſelf unto the mercy of your Majeſty, and do moſt humbly beſeech you to ſtay all violent proceedings againſt thoſe innocent priſoners.

Thus ended the ſtranger; and the Queen being inclinable to ſhew him favour, did for ſeveral conſiderations promiſe him a pardon, upon condition he could verifle all that he had ſaid to be true, and at that very inſtant commanded to ſend unto Fiſme, and to bring before her thoſe perſons whom the father of Cleſiodorus had taken priſoners. This command was executed with ſo much diligence that Andrimartes and Silviana were the very ſame day conducted unto the Pallace; and as ſoon as ever the Queen ſaw Andrimartes, ſhe entertained him with ſuch extraordinary Carreſſes, that the father of Cleſiodorus was aſtoniſhed; yet being extreamly ſenſible of the loſſe of his ſon, he caſt himſelf at the feet of Methina, and demanded juſtice againſt the Cavalier whom he ſuſpected to be the Aſſaſſinate of his ſon. But the Queen cauſing them to enter into her cloſet, did uſe ſuch arguments unto the old man, in juſtification of Andrimartes, that he was quite convinced of the bad opinion which he entertained of him. The Father of Cleſiodorus was no ſooner ſatisfied, but Andrimartes underſtanding from the Queen what the ſtranger had done, he began to relate the ſucceſſe of the Combate between him and Cleſiodorus, and did ſo faithfully report the laſt words of that dying man, that after the example of the ſon, the father was forced to pardon the Conquerour.

This accident was the buſineſſe of the Court, until it began to be late, and the Queen diſmiſſing the father of Cleſiodorus, ſhe was no ſooner alone with Andrimantes, but the memory of the misfortune, or rather the debauchery of Childerick did cauſe her to fall into a ſtream of tears. Andrimartes did exceedingly pity her; and notwithſtanding the great cauſe he had to be revenged of Childerick, he was even forced to grant unto the tears and the prayers of the Queen, that pardon which ſhe begged for her ſon. After this ſhe enquired where Silviana was; unto which Andrimartes anſwered, that he heard ſhe was returned into Gaul Armorique, and that ſhe had ſent her brother to give him an accompt of what had paſſed. The Queen commanded preſently that he ſhould enter, and as ſoon as ever Silviana did obeyſance unto her, truly (ſaid ſhe unto Andrimartes) he is the handſomeſt young man that ever I ſaw, and has many of thoſe features [Page] which makes his ſiſter ſo much admired: when Silviana heard the Queen ſay ſo, ſhe bluſh'd, which the Princeſſe perceiving; he has not yet (ſaid ſhe unto Adrimartes in a low voice) well taſted the aire of the Court: for I ſee he is a little baſhful, and bluſhes when one looks upon him. But Cavaller (continued ſhe and addreſſed her ſelf unto Silviana) what good news can you tell us of your Siſter?

At this Silviana caſt her eye upon Andrimartes, as if ſhe had ſaid anſwer for me; which the Cavalier▪ underſtanding and not being willing to delude the Queen any longer: the moſt certain news (ſaid he) that ſhe can give you, Madam, is, that ſhe does preſent her ſelf unto you in that habit wherein now you ſee her, and which ſhe is forced to wear for a ſafety of her ſelf, from the purſuance and Tyranny of Childerick: In ſaying ſo, he took Silviana by the hand, who caſting her ſelf at the Queens feet, did receive from that Princeſſe all the Carreſſes and favours which ſhe could expect amidſt that diſorder and affliction, which the inſolence of her ſon had brought upon her. After this, ſhe told her what teſtimonies ſhe had received of Childericks repentance, and what had paſſed within a few dayes: at which Silviana was exceedingly joyed. Yet not conceiving that the life of Andrimartes could be ſafe any where, but in thoſe Territories where Sem [...]on had made him Lord, ſhe beſeeched the Queen to let them depart the next morning, which being condeſcended unto, Silviana and Andrimartes received the Queens commands; and being retired, Methina ſent them a great abundance of clothes and jewels for Silviana; and for Andrimartes a coach with ſix horſes, the fineſt that ever eye beheld, Thus they departed, and Fortune being now weary with diſturbing their contentments, ſhe permitted them to arrive at the place where they deſired, without any diſaſterous encounter. Some few hours before their departure, Andrimartes hearing that I was in the Pallace, retained there by my wounds, he was pleaſed to honour me with a viſit, and there, after he underſtood from me all the particulars of the Combate wherein I had been wounded, he related unto me all that you have heard.

Within a few dayes after I found my ſelf in ſome ſort recovered; ſo as my Chirurgeon telling me that I might venture to travel without any danger; I went to kiſſe the Queens hand, and becauſe ſhe was infinitly deſirous that Childerick ſhould be reeſtabliſhed, ſhe ſolicited me not to ſtir from Guyemants until it was effected: I told her plainly, that it was a buſineſſe which required a long time, ſince a multitude of people are like unto ſpirits, eaſily raiſed, but very hard to be laid again: and yet ſhe had reaſon to hope well, ſince Guyemant had promiſed the utmoſt of his ſervice, and that I thought time would bring it to paſſe: Then ſhe asked me, if I knew upon what grounds Guyemant intended to tranſact; and I who was deſirous to give her all the conſolation I could, I told her in ſhort what Guyemant had communicated unto me, which was, that he hoped to make Gilon, who was of a moſt covetous diſpoſition, to loaden the people with ſuch abundance of Subſidies, Taxes, and Impoſts, under a pretence of keeping them under, and within their duty, that thereby he would render all the nobility his enemies; and ſo by this action render him odious to all the world: That afterwards he would take his time ſo well amidſt theſe diſorders, as he would remonſtrate unto the people how Tyrannical the government of Gilon was above that of Childerick, and perhaps ſhould have ſuch an influence upon them, as to make them revolt againſt Gilon, and call back their former King. The Princeſſe ſeemed to hope well in this deſign, and permitting me to depart, I returned unto Guyemant in Paris, who finding my ſtay there to no great purpoſe, he conſented that I ſhould depart with thoſe forces which Clidemant and I had: ſo as I did depart in a reſolution to diſmiſſe them at Moulins; but meeting with Flurial, and receiving your Letter, I retained them on to imploy them in your ſervice.

Thus Lindamor ended the diſcourſe which Amaſis deſired to hear, and it being ſomething late, every one prepared themſelves for ſleep: Amaſis accompanied them to their ſeveral chambers; and having left it unto Galathea, to wait upon Roſanira and the reſt of the Ladies into their lodgings, ſhe beſeeched them all to command freely any thing that was within the compaſſe of her power, and [Page] confeſſed that ſhe owed all ſhe had in the world unto their courages and affections.

As ſoon as day dawned, Ligonias departed, and Aſtrea waked: That fair one lay that night in the houſe of Adamas, becauſe ſhe was not able, without extream ſorrow to her ſelf, to be one minute out of the preſenſe of her dear Alexis; and though there was a partition between her chamber and Celadons, yet it was abundance of conſolation unto her to think that ſhe was not far off him▪ & that nothing but the god of ſleep was able to part them; She no ſooner opened her eyes, but being in abundance of impatience to ſee her Miſtreſſe, ſhe dreſſed her ſelf withall the haſt ſhe could, and went into the chamber of Celadon, and made as little noiſe as poſſible.

The Shepherd, who was not aſleep, obſerved the warineſſe of Aſtrea, and counterf [...]ited himſelf ſtill aſleep, that he might the better ſee the motions of her ſoul: He ſaw then the Shepherdeſſe kneel down by his bed ſide, and afterwards did kiſſe him two or three times, and ſigh very loud: at laſt ſhe ſaid, alas, alas, why is it not permitted me to give theſe kiſſes unto him, whoſe Image you do repreſent unto me? Although theſe be more hot and more moiſt, yet are they not leſſe innocent and harmleſſe: upon this ſhe was ſilent, and then began again with a deep ſigh, ſaying, but ſince I cannot kiſſe Celadon, yet I will adore this face in memory of him: in ſaying ſo, ſhe kiſt him again, and dwelt ſo long upon the lips of the Shepherd, that he being raviſhed with delight, he could not chuſe but ſigh and open his eyes: which Aſtrea perceiving, O faireſt Miſtreſſe (ſaid ſhe) I moſt humbly beſeech you pardon my rude indiſcretion in waking you. Then Celadon, to make it the better, believed that he was aſleep, I give you moſt hearty thanks, dear ſervant (ſaid he unto her) that you would take ſo much pains as to viſit me: I beſeech you tell me (continued he) how long it is ſince you firſt came? but a little while (anſwered Aſtrea) and had only ſo much time as to kiſſe you twice: It was very well (anſwered Celadon) love was my frien [...] in it, and knew that your favours are ſo pleaſing unto me, that I am contented with them either in reality or in a dream; but dear ſervant (continued Alexis) and cauſed Aſtrea to ſit down upon her bed ſide) what is the reaſon of your being ſo early, for I know by my eyes that it is not very late? O my faireſt, Miſtreſſe, replied Astrea, I need no other alarm to waken me, but my own thoughts, which fill me ſo full of inquietudes, as I do very believe, that unleſſe you do give a remedy unto them, they will diſtract my wits: O heavens (ſaid Alexis and ſighed) why do you expect any remedy from me, who expects the ſame from you? from me? (ſaid the Shepherdeſſe and was a little aſtoniſhed) what can you expect from me? To contrive it ſo (anſwered Celadon) that we may be eternally inſeparable: May heaven for ever hate me (ſaid Aſtrea) if that that be not my chiefeſt deſire; but, Miſtreſſe, that does depend more upon you then me: No, no, (ſaid Celadon) it is your conſent only that is requiſite and neceſſary for the accompliſhment of this deſire. I do moſt freely conſent unto it (ſaid Aſtrea) and do moſt earneſtly beſeech heaven there may be no other obſtacle but my conſent: It is very well, replied the Shepherd, there wants nothing but one thing, without which this happineſſe will not be obtained. O heavens! ſaid Aſtrea, I beſeech you tell me quickly what it is, for I ſwear it muſt be an abſolute impoſſibility, if to obtain this happineſſe, I do not do it. It is nothing, all that you need do (replied the ſuppoſed Druide) is to command me that — upon this word a colour came into her countenance, and her ſpeech falling her, the Shepherdeſſe might well imagine that ſome ſtrange accident or other had befallen her: at which being exceedingly troubled; Miſtreſſe (ſaid ſhe unto her) I perceive you are not well, will you be pleaſed to take any thing? I need not take any thing (anſwered Alexis) but only a little courage: In ſaying ſo, Adamas entred into the room, which pleaſed Celadon very well, who plainly ſaw, that had he not come, he could never have come off in this diſcourſe, without declaring part of his crime: his joy at it appeared preſently in his face, which Aſtrea perceiving, father (ſaid ſhe unto Adamas) you are the beſt Phyſician in the world, for your very preſence can cure diſeaſes▪ Theſe words did a little trouble the Druide, and [Page] going a little nearer Celadon to enquire the truth, the Shepherd told him in a low voice, the danger from which his arrival had reſcued him. But Adamas conceiving tha the conveniency of the place, and the diſpoſition of the perſons, did afford an opportunity of undeceiving Aſtrea, he reſolved to do that which Celadon durſt not, and to do it before the Shepherd could hinder him; therefore he did not ſpeak unto him, but cauſing Aſtrea to ſit down in the place where ſhe was, and ſitting down by her, he held this diſcourſe.

I do believe Astrea, that you know I love you, and has obſerved in all my actions, a more particular good will unto you then unto many other perſons whom I am obliged to eſteem; and therefore I am very confident, that you will take the councel that I ſhall give you in good part, and not doubting but I ſhall have as great a care of your welfare as my own, you will apply what I ſhall ſay unto you to your beſt advantage: Now, Aſtrea, you muſt know that this Druide, whom you ſee before you, and paſſes under the notion of your Miſtreſſe, yet her greateſt glory is to obey you, and what features ſoever you find in her face, ſhe is the ſame— then he was going to pronounce Celadon when he ſaw Diana and Phillis enter, who coming from the houſe of Clindor, upon a viſit unto Aſtrea, did imagine ſhe would be in the chamber of Alexis, ſince they did not find her in the place where ſhe was was wont to lie. As ſoon as Adamas ſpied them, he took Astrea by the hand, and preſſing it a little, Sweet heart (ſaid he unto her in a low voice) that which I did intend to communicate unto you, muſt not have ſo many witneſſes, and therefore I will defer it until another time: In the mean time, entertain your companions, whilſt I advertiſe Alexis in all things which ſhe muſt do to carry you with her unto Carnutes, whither you have ſo great a deſire to follow her.

Aſtrea upon this went to meet the two fair Shepherdeſſe, who were come already very near her, and as ſoon as they had ſaluted Adamas, and the ſuppoſed Druide, they went and ſate down in one of the corners of the Chamber, where Aſtrea, with a face of extraordinary contentment, ſpoke to them in theſe terms.

The common Proverb (my companions) is very true, which ſayes that a good Fortune as well as a bad one, never comes alone by it ſelf. Within theſe two dayes I was overwhelmed with a multitude of miſeries, and now ſince the deliverance of Amaſis and our ſelves, every minute affosds me a freſh ſubject of delight.

You need not tell us any more of your contentment (anſwered Diana) for we find it in your face; and I ſwear unto you (ſaid Aſtrea) it is leſſe in my face then my heart: but Siſter (ſaid Phillis) I beſeech you tell us from whence proceeds this great joy? From ſome hopes (anſwered ſhe) that Alexis will carry me away with her; O Siſter (ſaid Diana) you are extreamly cruel, in threatning us with a ſeparation; and I cannot chuſe but wonder you ſhould take delight in a thing which perhaps will kill us with grief: I do indeed believe, ſaid Astrea, that you a little lament my departure, but I hope your ſorrows will not be ſo great, but that Silvander and Licidas will chear you up again in a few dayes.

To tell you ingeniouſly my mind (ſaid Phillis) were I to chuſe whether I might live alwayes with Licidas or with you, I ſhould certainly prefer the company of my Shepherd before yours; and let it be ſpoken only amongſt our ſelves, I believe Diana has more wit, then not to be of my opinion; but if it were poſſible for me to enjoy both your companies, I could deſire no greater happineſſe. You mean (anſwered Aſtrea) that your contentment would be compleat, as mine would be, if heaven would be ſo kind as to let me alſo enjoy the company of Celadon and you: But ſince the gods, by the death of that Shepherd, has denied me this felicity, it is but requiſite you ſhare with me in my misfortune, and ſuffer in the loſſe of a Siſter, as I do in the loſſe of a Lover. I ſhall be more ſenſible of the loſſe of you, ſaid Diana, then the loſſe of all men living; and though I do highly honour Silvander, yet I will not except him: O ſtay (ſaid Aſtrea, and laid her hand upon her mouth) you ought to love that Shepherd above all, and though you ſhould render your affection equal unto his, yet you would not do more then is due unto his merit. Let us talk no more on't (ſaid Phillis) for Siſter [Page] I hope you will not leave us, and there needs no more to ſend me out of the world, then to deprive us of your company.

With ſuch ſweet diſcourſe as this, Aſtrea prepared the ſpirits of all theſe fair ones, not to take her ſeparation from them over ſadly. Adamas alſo in the mean while prepared Celadon, not any longer to oppoſe his deſire of making himſelf known unto his Shepherdeſſe; and becauſe this poor Lover obſerved how they had been interrupted; certainly Father (ſaid he unto him) there is a kind of fatality oppoſite unto your deſign; far had not Diana and Phillis entred, I know not what would have become of this diſguiſe which we have uſed. Certainly (ſaid the Druide) the gods do ſometimes teach us what their will is by trivial things, as well as by great ones; and I will with you believe, that it is not their pleaſure, Aſtrea ſhould here have the honour of knowing her Shepherd: And therefore, I will ſhortly take my leave of Amaſis, ſince now ſhe has no need of my ſervice; and I will carry all the Shepherds and Shepherdeſſes to my houſe, where we will with more leaſure adviſe upon the beſt expedients, how to make you happy in the enjoyment of Aſtrea. Celadon ſtood a while without any reply; and Adamas asking the reaſon of his ſilence: Father (anſwered he with a great ſigh) if we have any ſecret foreſight of things that are to happen unto us, I do preſage very ſad accidents that are to befall me by the knowledge which this Shepherdeſſe ſhall have of me: you have entertained that fear ſo long (replied the Druide) that now it is become a belief, and your wit is too ingenious in afflicting your ſelf. You do now take it as a thing infallible; but know that my opinion is quite contrary unto yours, and I dare promiſe you all imaginable contentment in that courſe: whether the event prove good or bad (ſaid Celadon) I am however infinitely obliged unto your indulgent care of me, and I wiſh my own welfare as much for your contentment as for my own: Diſpoſe therefore of me as you pleaſe Sir; and if ever I diſobey the leaſt of your commands, let me be branded with the ignominy of the moſt ungrateful Shepherd that ever lived. Adamas infinitly ſatisfied with Celadons anſwer: Son, ſaid he unto him, ſince you are reſolved to truſt your ſelf unto my care and ſubmit unto my will, if you do not enjoy your Miſtreſſe, the fault ſhall be only mine: In ſaying ſo, he kiſſed his cheek, and riſing up, he bad adieu unto all the fair ones, and afterwards went unto Amaſis.

He was no ſooner out of the chamber, but Aſtrea being extreamly impatient to know, what it was the Druide intended to ſay unto her, ſhe went unto the bed ſide of Alexis, and beſeeched her to give her that ſatisfaction: but Celadon in lieu of telling her truly, did put her off with ſo many other things, that ſhe could not underſtand any thing of it. Diana and Phillis came alſo to her beds ſide, and almoſt at the very ſame time when Leonide entred, who doubting that Celadon durſt not riſe before them, ſhe carried them into another chamber till he had dreſſed himſelf.

Adamas in the interim was come unto the Nymph, and intending to ask leave to return, as ſoon as he could ſpeak unto her, he knew ſo well how to ſet forth an urgent neceſſity of returning unto his houſe, that ſhe conſented thereunto, upon condition he would return again with in a few dayes: which the Druide promiſing, he humbly thanked her, and went away without taking his leave of Galathea, leſt ſhe ſhould be deſirous of ſeeing Alexis, or enquire of Celadon: ſo he came unto the houſe of Clindor, where Aſtrea, Alexis, Phillis, and Diana, already were, and with them all the reſt of the Shepherds and Shepherdeſſes: having therefore propounded his intention of carrying them back, he found them ſo impatiently deſirous of ſeeing their flocks again, that they were all very willing to depart at that very inſtant: Clindor only was very ſorry to part ſo ſoon with ſo much good company; yet ſeeing no remedy, be took Licidas aſide, and after he had deſired him to love Leontidas his ſon, with the ſame affection which wont to be betwixt Al [...]yppes and him, he made him promiſe him above a hundred times to return again, and bring with him the ſame perſons that were now to depart. After this, he embraced Phocion, and though he could hardly walk by reaſon of his great age, yet he would not bid adieu unto any of the Shepherds or Shepherdeſſes in his [Page] own houſe, but would needs wait upon them out of the Town, where he received all their thanks, and after a ſad departure, and looking after them as far as he could ſee, he retired by the help of Leonti [...]as, who led him by the arm unto his own houſe again.

All this great troop, to whom was added the brothers of Circinea, Palanice, and Florice, were not long before they arrived at the houſe of Adamas, who intending to receive them very well, did carry them into a very noble room, where they found a collation ready: After which, carrying them into his gallery, unto ſome he expounded the Pictures; he made others admire the excellency of the work; all being very pleaſingly diverted, they were in the concluſion diſpoſed to ſit down. On the other ſide, Amaſis did all that ſhe poſſibly could to treat the Princes with all magnificence, and her endeavours were not loſt: for though the ſiege might excuſe many defects, yet ſhe was ſo very careful in entertaining them well, as they confeſſed that the ſumptuoſity of her banquets was not inferiour to the expences of the greateſt Monarchs.

That day after the repaſt was done, ſhe acquainted them with her fears, that Gondebaut would Arm anew againſt her. But Sigiſmond, Roſilion, and Godomar, did promiſe ſo often never to forſake her until ſhe was in a condition free from all manner of fears, her mind was ſatisfied. Giving them therefore moſt hearty thanks, for the teſtimonies of good will which they had expreſſed unto her, ſhe beſeeched them not to live in any way of conſtraint, but to command freely any manner of thing that was in her power. After this, ſhe went unto her cloſet, and took order for her Domeſtick affairs; and the Princes going into a chamber where moſt of the Nymphs, Ladies, and Cavaliers were, Sigiſmond drew Dorinde a little aſide, and held this diſcourſe with her.

What cauſe ſoever you have, my faireſt Dorinde, to think all men inconſtant, I am confident that what I have done is enough to make you change that opinion, or at the leaſt make you confeſs, that my fidelity deſerves an exception from the common ſort of men, as well as doth my birth. Sir, anſwered Dorinde, that you have done much more, then I know how to merit, is without all manner of doubt: but that your fidelity is above the ſtrain of other men, pardon me, I beſeech you, if I do not abſolutely confeſs it, ſince it is alwayes the end that crowns any work, and ſince I cannot tell whether you will be as conſtant for the future, as you have been hitherto. This diffidence, ſaid the Prince, is no ſmall argument of your ſmall affection: It is an argument, replied Dorinde, of the ſenſibility which I have of my own imperfections, which are more like to quench affection then to inflame it. The only imperfection whereof I aſſure you, (ſaid Sigiſmond) is that you do not love me enough; and yet you are in ſome ſort excuſable, ſince it is a very hard matter to finde one man amongſt mortalls, that is worthy of ſo great an honour and happineſſe as to enjoy you. Theſe flattering expreſſions (anſwered Dorinde) do ſmell too much of artifice and diſſimulation, and are unworthy of a man that makes profeſſion of loving rightly: If you intend to uſe no other language but this, I will not ſay that you may become unfaithful, but will think you are ſo already. What thoughts ſoever you have of me (ſaid Sigiſmond) I muſt ſtill eſteem you above all the women in the world; and if you do not think that thoſe teſtimonies which I have given of my ſelf, do not proceed from a clear heart and ſoul, I beſeech you appoint me Laws, and tell me how you would have me behave my ſelf, for I proteſt I will moſt inviolably obſerve them: It becomes not me, Sir, replied Dorinde, to give Laws unto you; and ſince your rank and quality is not to receive them from any but the Gods, if you do love me, let the God of love preſcribe them unto you. It is love, my faireſt, anſwered the Prince, which commands me to think that all the beauties in the world are inferiour unto yours; and that all merits are too little, if compared unto your high perfections.

Love then, replied Dorinde, is like unto thoſe ſpectacles which deceive the eyes, and makes all objects ſeem greater then they are: No, no, my bright Star, ſaid the Prince, I do look upon you as you are, and let me periſh if I do not think, that envy it ſelf is not able to find the leaſt ſhadow of any defect in you: [Page] I perceive, anſwered Dorinde, that complacency and flattery is a vice ſo common, as it is inevitable; bu [...] good Sir, continued ſhe, let us talk no more of my beauty; for if you do, you will but anger me, ſince I am in the leaſt degree owner of what you preſcribe unto me; but I wiſh I were, that I might be more pleaſing unto you: All I can ſay is, that ſuch as I am, have a perfect inclination to honour you: Then all I can ſay (ſaid Sigiſmond and interrupted her) is, that I am the moſt happy man alive, and that the love which I bear unto you, joyned with the aſſurance which you give me of your affection, is a thouſand times more dear unto me then my Fathers Scepter: O heavens (ſaid Dorinde) the Scepter of Gondebaut, and the affection you bear unto me, are two things which will ſute very ill together: For the one will no ſooner come into your hands, but the other will go out of your heart.

All my oaths, vows, and proteſtations (anſwered the Prince) ſhould methinks remove all ſuch ſuſpitions out of your mind, and believe it, my faireſt Dorinde, the effects of my fidelity may well make you ceaſe doubting of my faith, if you would but pleaſe to call them into your memory; but to my great happineſſe, you do not judge rightly upon my humour, and are perſwaded that the name of King can exclude that of Lover: but, No, no, my deareſt Dorinde, the diſcretion which you have ſeen in all my actions, is a moſt evident demonſtration that I do not pretend unto any thing which can offend you, and that entertaining no paſſion but what is legitimate, I ſhall ſtill preſerve it as pure and ſacred when I have an Empire, as now when I am only in hopes of it: I wiſh I were more free then I am, that I might be able to give you a better aſſurance of it; but ſince I do abſolutely depend upon the power of a father, and a Father incenſed, I cannot at this time do any more then make a moſt faithful promiſe to marry you, as ſoon as ever I am at liberty.

Dorinde, flattering her ſelf with the title of Burgundean Queen, and imagining that this Prince might raiſe her fortune as high as her ambition, ſhe did fully build upon theſe laſt promiſes, and ſuffering a pritty, kind of ſhame, mixed with incomparable joy, to appear in her cheeks, ſhe returned this anſwer. The good will, Sir, which I bear unto you, does not proceed from theſe great hopes which you are pleaſed to give me; for I dare ſay, and that moſt truly, that I do love your perſon above your Crowns and Scepters, and your merits above your quality; yet ſince you are pleaſed to aſſure me, that your love is ſo great unto me as to make me a ſharer in the glory which your birth doth caſt upon you, I do moſt willingly accept of the offer which you make unto me, and promiſe never to diſpoſe of my ſelf, but according to thoſe commands which I ſhall receive from you; and in teſtimony of what I ſay (continued ſhe, pulling out a ring which Sigiſmond gave unto her, and breaking it in two) let this be the Symbole of our union: The time whilſt the pieces of this ring do remain ſeparate, ſhall emblem our abſene, and when you are in a condition to accompliſh what you have promiſed, their conjunction ſhall be ours alſo. Then Sigiſmond taking the one half of the ring, and kiſſiing it ſeveral times, I do ſwear (ſaid he) that I will never believe my faireſt Dorinde defective in her fidelity, until ſhe ſend me back the other half of this ring which remains with her; and I would have her think the ſame of me: in ſaying ſo, the Prince took her hand, and laid it to his heart: be aſſured, my deareſt Dorinde (ſaid he) that this heart over which you lay your hand, is much more yours then my own, and will ſooner die, then fail in the leaſt tittle of what I have promiſed: Dorinde looking ſilently upon him, and the eyes of the Prince meeting with hers, they both ſwore an unalterable fidelity unto each other, by the language of their eyes: which though mute, yet did more eloquently expreſſe their paſſions then any tongue could tell: At laſt, Dorinde fearing to loſe her ſelf in this rauishment, ſhe firſt withdrew her eyes, and bluſhing a little, ſhe beſeeched him to go unto the reſt of the company.

Lindamor in this interim, had not ill imployed his time: for as ſoon as he ſaw Roſilion apply himſelf to Roſanira, and Sigiſmond to Dorinde, he went unto Galathea, and knew ſo well how to ſet forth what ſhe owed unto all his labours, that he obtained leave to court her openly: and though he had a great confidence in [Page] the good will of Amaſis, yet he thought it not expedient to conſult with her, without communicating his deſign unto the Druide, who, beſide the power which his virtue had gotten him with the Nymph, had a very particular inclination unto him. He propounded then unto Galathea that deſire which he intended to acquaint Adamas withal, and that Nymph thinking it to be very juſt, Lindamor ſent to ſeek him; but word being brought that he was gone out of Marcelles: I perceive (ſaid Galathea) that he was very deſirous to carry home unto their habitations thoſe Shepherds which Clindor entertained; and truly I am very ſorry that he did not acquaint me before he went: but I will entreat Ligdamon to go unto him, and ſolicite him to return as ſoon as poſſibly he can: Upon this, Galathea beckning unto Ligdamon, who was then entertaing Silvia, that Cavalier came unto her, and had no ſooner received her commands to go, but he went immediatly and took horſe.

Amaſis came out of her cloſet at the ſame time; and becauſe ſhe had been a long while cloiſtered up in Marcelles, ſhe was very deſirous to ride out into the fields to take the air: ſhe cauſed therefore her coaches to be made ready; and going into one, with the three Princes, Lindamor, Roſanira, Galathea, and Dorinde, the firſt place ſhe viſited was the place where Polemas had pitched his Tent and his Camp: from thence ſhe went unto the plain, where the blood of that Rebel was ſtill to be ſeen; and remembring the fears ſhe was in, ſhe related unto them the extream perplexity and anguiſh of ſpirit, in which ſhe was when they fought. At laſt, after they had ſufficiently aired themſelves, they returned to the Caſtle, where Amaſis did all ſhe poſſibly could to Carreſſe them, ſo much did ſhe acknowledge her ſelf obliged unto them, for the great care they had in delivering her from the inſolence of her enemy.

Ligdamon in the mean time, came unto the houſe of Adamas, whom he found walking in his gallery with the Shepherds and fair Shepherdeſſes of Lignon; when the Druide firſt ſaw him, he was a little ſurprized, and was afraid that ſome new diſorder had hapned in Marcelles: yet, when he aked the cauſe of his coming, he was very glad that it was only to deſire him from Galathea, to come unto her as ſoon as he could. He intended therefore to go very early in the morning, that he might be there as ſoon as the Nymph was ready; and beſeeching Ligdamon to be his gueſt till then, he took him by the hand and carried him to the reſt of the company: They were no ſooner there, but they perceived Cercinea, Palanice, and Florice, were ſtanding all about Phillis, unto whom Cercinea ſpoke thus: But fair Shepherdeſſe, or rather the Interpretour of the gods, ſince it hath pleaſed heaven to make choiſe of you, to give us that ſatisfaction and tranquility which we have long prayed for, when will it pleaſe you to afford it unto us? Why are you ſo ſlack in doing the will of heaven? are you not afraid that the ſame Diety which hath inſpired you with the knowledge of his Oracle, will charge you with neglect, and puniſh you for the miſeries which we ſuffer? To which Phillis ſmiled, and returned this anſwer. Fair Shepherdeſſe, ſhould I refuſe to give you that ſatisfaction which you expect from me, I ſhould confeſſe my ſelf moſt worthy of puniſhment, as being guilty of an unpardonable ſin; But I moſt humbly beſeech you to conſider, that your ſatisfaction do not wholly depend upon me, but that there are two perſons more who are alſo neceſſarily required, and whom I believe we cannot eaſily meet withal; yet I do moſt faithfully promiſe to endeavour, with all my power, the ſatisfaction of your deſires. Upon this ſhe embraced them all three; and Adamas not being able to imagine the meaning of all this, he entreated Phillis to tell him why theſe fair ones made this requeſt unto him? Father (anſwered ſhe) ſince you do know, that the Decrees of the gods are unalterable, you will not wonder at the relation which I ſhall make unto you: Theſe three fair ones not long ſince received an Oracle, which commanded them to come into Forreſts, and there to ſeek for a remedy againſt thoſe miſeries which love had bred amongſt them: and that you may know from whom it is, they ought to expect it, I ſhall repeat unto you the ſame Oracle which they received.

The Oracle.

[Page]

AGainſt the pains which all you three endure,

In Forreſts you ſhall find a certain cure:

On that was dead, and afterwards ſhall live

Unto you all a medicine ſhall give:

Another medicine you ſhall have from one,

To whom againſt her will a good is done,

Which ſhe rejected with her will: 'Tis ſhe

Not you, by whom the overture muſt be:

What ſhe ordains, as if ordain'd by me,

Believ'd as Oracle by you muſt be.

Now Father, continued Phillis, I cannot tell whether by inſpiration or how it was; but ſo it certainly was, that having met them about a month ſince, I repeated their Oracle unto them, and at the ſame time beſeeched them to tell me the ſtories of their lives; but ſome particular conſideration did hinder me from giving them that full audience which was expedient for them, I beſeeched them to defer it until another time, which at my requeſt they did; and finding now a favourable opportunity for it, they deſired me to give them the hearing now: Adamas was extreamly aſtoniſhed at the diſcourſe of Phillis, and not knowing how ſhe ſhould come to the underſtanding of the Oracle, he attributed it unto a kind of Miracle, and addreſſing himſelf unto Cercinea, ſaid thus unto her: I do ſee, fair one, that this is the time wherein you are to receive that contentment, which you with ſo much impatience longed for; for having found out them who is to be the Judges of your differences, I cannot ſee any difficulty in the reſt. Firſt you may, and go no further, meet with thoſe two perſons who are to be the Arbitratours of your Fate: and certainly, by the perſon dead and yet alive, the gods do mean—upon this he was ready to name Alexis, as the perſon that lived after the death of Celadon: but ſeeing he could not name her without diſcovering the deſignes and ſecrets of that Shepherd, he ſtopped, and having a quick and preſent wit, he named Ligdamon: for, ſaid he, and continued, every one does know that he was believed, and condoled, as dead, and when he took the Dormative in lieu of poyſon. The other, unto whom that benefit which ſhe loſt with her will, ſhall be reſtored againſt her will, is Celidea, unto whom Damon, maugre her reſiſtance, will reſtore that beauty which ſhe deprived her ſelf of, by cutting her face with the point of a Diamond. Upon this, Palanice, tranſported with abundance of joy: Father (ſaid ſhe, and took the Druide by the hand) we have reaſon to denote this day, as the happieſt of all our lives, and to acknowledge our obligations unto you to be infinite, ſince by your means our eyes are opened, and we do now plainly ſee thoſe things, which before were as obſcure unto us, as darkneſſe it ſelf: There now wants nothing but to let us ſee the perſons that are to be our Judges, to the end we may relate our cauſe unto them, for we do not doubt, but this is the very place, where we muſt receive our tranquility: Adamas who was very deſirous to divert Ligdamon whilſt he ſtayed there: Then (ſaid he) put all your three names into a hat, and that perſon whom Phillis ſhall draw, is the name of that perſon whom the gods have decreed to be the ſpeaker for you all. Cercinea, Palanice, and Florice, conſented thereunto: The Druide writ their three names in three pieces of paper; and folding them up, then putting them into a hat, Phillis, unto whom the hat was preſented, did draw the name of Florice, who ſeemed very glad of the Commiſſion, and was obedient thereunto: ſo as after Adamas had entreated all the company to ſit down, ſhe looked upon Phillis, and began her diſcourſe thus.

The Sequel of the Hiſtory of CERCINEA, PALANICE, and FLORICE.

[Page]

I Wiſh, fair and diſcreet Phillis, I could compoſe the diſcourſe which I am to make, into ſuch an order as might clear me from all diſobedience to the gods, and diſcourteſie towards you: but having not wit enough to avoid diſorder in the relation of it, I beſeech you let your ingenious judgment ſupply my defects, and pardon me, if I preſent a relation unto you, which is not much unlike a skene of ruffled ſilk, very difficult to be unwound: for we our ſelves, whom the buſineſſe moſt concerns, have much ado from loſing our ſelves in the diſorder of it: The accidents that have hapned amongſt us, are ſo many, and ſo ſtrange, that ſhould I enter into the whole Series of them, they would require a large volume; but knowing that Hylas hath been long in this Countrey, and he being an enemy unto all ſilence and ſecrecy, queſtionleſſe he hath imparted many of our affairs unto you; and therefore I ſhall omit all impertinencies and ſuperfluities, hinting only upon the principal effects, to the end you may the better Judge upon the motions of our ſouls, and ordain which of theſe Cavaliers ought to poſſeſſe our affections. Be pleaſed to know therefore, O our juſt Judge, that Cercinea, Palanice and I, have each of us two brothers, and (ſince it muſt out) two ſervants, if at the leaſt any faith or credit be to be given unto the tongues and oaths of men; but to the end this may appear more plainly unto you, I beſeech you give me leave to draw a little figure of them unto you: upon this ſhe took pen, ink, and paper, and drew this figure.

Brothers |  | Servants
Sileines | of Cercinea | Clorian
Lucindor | Alcander
Clorian | of Palanice | Sileines,
Cerintes | Amilcar
Alcander | of Florice | Lucindor
Amilcar | Cerintes

Afterwards, ſhe proceeded thus; Now in this ruffle of diſorder, our intereſts are ſo mingled and intangled, that Cercinea cannot do good offices unto Lucindor towards me, without diſobliging Cerintes, who is brother unto Palanice, and without fearing, that by way of revenge he ſhould ruine her towards Clorian: Palanice cannot ſpeak unto Cercinea in behalf of Clorian, without angrying me in the perſon of Alcander, and unleſſe ſhe oblige me to raviſh Amilcar from her; and I cannot countenance the two paſſions of Alcander and Amilcar, unleſſe I do vex Cercinea and Palanice, who had ſome right to take from me, the one Lucindor, and the other Cerintes: This made us for a while look a ſquint upone another, and live in moſt intollerable conſtraint and Tyranny; and becauſe we imagined that this confuſion would cauſe a breach in our amities, we went all together unto an Oracle, who gave us this anſwer.

The Oracle.

LEt ſix within this place remain

Till honour otherwiſe ordain:

No anſwer to the Female three

Expect, unleſs alone they be.

[Page]This anſwer made us think that the Oracle had ſomething elſe to ſay unto us; and therefore conſulting with it alone, we received that anſwer which the gods have communicated unto you as well as us: This now is the principal cauſe of our voyage, and coming into this countrey; but ſince it is moſt requiſite I ſhould inform you what inclinations we have unto theſe Cavaliers whom now you ſee with us; I ſhall begin with Cercinea, and tell you, that, before Alcander, my brother, ever caſt any eye upon her, Clorian had ſo far ingratiated himſelf into her favour, by the interceſſion of Palanice, as it was believed this amity could not be broken: Alcander muſt pardon me, if the affection which I bear unto him be not ſtrong enough to make me tell a lie; and if being forced by a greater power to ſpeak truth, and confeſſe that this fair one is every way obliged unto Clorian. It was he that firſt began to ſerve her, and found in her thoſe flames which burned him; his affection was not born with him for any private intereſt, but only becauſe he had diſcovered in her tender years, ſome ſparks of thoſe charms, which now have inflamed him, and made him admire her: he was ſo obſequious unto her in his youth, that for all her ingratitude towards him, ſhe muſt needs confeſſe her ſelf much beholding unto his converſation, for much of that gentilneſſe which ſhe is Miſtreſſe off: And truly I cannot chuſe but laugh, when I remember ſome of thoſe replies which ſhe retorted upon him when he began firſt to love her: Be pleaſed to know, ſhe had not then attained to above the age of ſeven years, when he began to be ſprinkled with paſſion, and talk unto her of love with as much ardure, as if ſhe were at full age; One time ſtanding by the fire, he fell down upon his knees before her, I wonder how it's poſſible (ſaid he unto her) that my faireſt little Miſtreſſe ſhould ever have any deſire of warming her ſelf, ſince ſhe is able to inflame and warm a whole world? Servant (anſwered ſhe very ſweetly) it is not to be thought I can warm any thing; for were it in my power, I would warm the weather, ſo as it ſhould never be cold. The fire I feel (replied Clorian) and which your eyes have kindled in my ſoul, will not ſuffer me to doubt but that you can; but I profeſſe unto you, it is ſo great, that I had rather dy then extinguiſh it. Do you then burn? ſaid Cercinia (and interrupted him) yes, replied Clorian; but it is in the ſweeteſt flame that ever heart was ſchorched in: I wonder then (ſaid Cercinea) that I do not ſmell it; for if one caſt a bone, or a feather, or a little c [...]oth into the fire, it will ſmell all the houſe over: Whether it do ſmell or no (anſwered Clorian) who had much ado to forbear laughing, I am certain my fire will encreaſe from day to day, and perhaps will become ſo great, that before you be able to remedy it, it will reduce me unto aſhes: It is good then (ſaid ſhe) to apply ſome remedy betimes; in ſaying ſo, ſhe would have gone away, but Clorian, holding her by the arm, what remedy (ſaid he) would you fetch't me? I believe, anſwered ſhe, that if two or three diſhes of cold water be caſt upon you, it will do you much good: for I obſerve they uſe to do the ſame unto wood when it burns too faſt: Ah my faireſt (ſaid Clorian) the fire you ſpeak of, is much different from that I feel; for if water were able to extinguiſh the fire of a Lover, tears would do it, but they do rather nouriſh then extinguiſh ſuch flames.

Another time, when he was going into the countrey about ſome buſineſſe concerning his eſtate, I went to viſit Cercinea, and to play with her, though my age then was above the play with little children: I found her at the firſt a little troubled at the abſence of her lover; for though ſhe was incapable of knowing what love was, yet ſhe had ſome ſentiments of an amity above the common ſtrain; and asking her how long it was ſince he went from her: believe me, anſwered ſhe, I have not counted the dayes: How? (ſaid I) they ſay when one loves a perſon very well, they will not only count the dayes of his abſence, but the howers, and the very minutes. That (anſwered ſhe very coldly) is a teſtimony of more affection then he muſt expect from me: for do you think I can keep an accompt of ſuch things, that can hardly tell how many the clock ſtrikes?

Such diſcourſe and entertainments as theſe (fair and wiſe Shepherdeſſe) they uſed, during the innocency of that age, and I was a very frequent witneſſe of them: for being near neighbours, I ſaw Cercinea almoſt every day; and Clorian [Page] himſelf, who knew me more capable of reaſon, did take much pleaſure in relating unto me her pritty anſwers; yet this Cavalier ſeeing he was to ſerve a long prentiſhip unto a child, and that it would be at leaſt ſix years before ſhe could pay what was due unto his love; he reſolved to imploy his time in the wars, and did as he reſolved.

In his abſence he got great reputation; and Cercinea became ſuch a perfect beauty, that at his return, he found himſelf a moſt perfect ſlave unto her: She was now paſt a child; and though ſhe did remember the name of Clorian, yet ſhe ſeemed not at all to remember that liberty which ſhe formerly had given him: ſhe received him indeed very civilly, and well, and being of a ſweet and affable diſpoſition and deportment, all her actions and expreſſions, confirmed this Cavalier in a belief, that he was ſtill loved: Now conſider him a moſt perfect lover, and if Hylas would but take the pains to relate the paſſages of this affection, at the return of Clorian, he might inſtance more particulars of it then I can: for I know, that this Cavalier made uſe of him in the buſineſſe, and that Hylas af [...]er he had taken upon him to be his mediatour unto Cercinea, he began to ſpeak for himſelf, and to forget all his promiſes, as well as the intereſt of his friend: It is ſo long, ſaid Hylas, ſince I have related all thoſe follies unto a hundred of theſe Shepherds, as I think it needleſſe to ſpeek any more of them, ſince their memories is good enough to remember them all: I do not ſpeak it (replied Florice) to trouble them with any long and tedious relation; but I only ſay, that you were a long time his rival, and that you left him peaceably to the courtſhip of this beauty: But O our equitable Judge, do but obſerve how heaven is pleaſed to diſpoſe of us. Clorian was no ſooner out of thoſe apprehenſions, which the courtſhip of Hylas had cauſed unto him, but as they ſay, he fell into a feaver of a cold ſtrain: for Alcander, my brather, being returned out of that countrey into which my Father had ſent him, to better himſelf in all noble qualities, he no ſooner caſt his eye upon Cercinea, but he loved her; and his paſſion made him ſo aſſiduous unto this fair one, that Cloan in a few dayes became jealous upon good terms. At the firſt, the reſentments of it were not of a deep ſtrain: for he imagined that the authority of Palanice would give a ſtop to the matter. But at laſt, ſeeing, that neither the perſwaſions of his Siſter, nor his own vigilant aſſiduity (for he was hardly ever out of her ſight) could not divert her from Alcander, but on the contrary, every thing made worſe for him, he was ſo extreamly tranſported with jealouſie, that he could not enjoy any manner of reſt. To relate all the paſſages that were fuel unto his fits of jealouſie, and to tell you how Alcander courted the affection of Cercinea, will not be very pertinent: It will be enough to know, that he had in a ſhort time ſo ingratiated himſelf, that he might boaſt himſelf to be as high in her favour as Clorian; yet Cercinea being extreamly ſoth to diſoblige Palanice, unto whom ſhe was ſo much beholding and engaged for marrying her uncle; and not being able to downright hate Clorian, though his jealous humour did as much diſpleaſe her, as the diſcreet behaviour of Alcander, take her; therefore ſhe carryed her ſelf ſwimmingly betwixt them both, and is without regret ready to receive him whom the gods, by you and your doom ſhall ordain and command.

As for the affairs of Palanice, I can very eaſily & exactly give you an accompt of the greateſt part of them: for ſhe and I have been long very good friends, and being both of us a little elder then Cercinea, we had contracted a more intimate league of amity, then we had with that fair one: And this was the reaſon, that as ſoon as ever Sileines fell in love, I knew of it, almoſt as ſoon as the ſiſter of that Cavaliers: for Palanice had no ſooner a glimps of it, but ſhe did communicate it unto me, and deſired me to give her my opinion of it. To be ingenious and plain, I did not diſſwade her from him; but on the contrary, Sileines ſeeming very amiable in my eye, and ſeeing what eſteem every one had of him, I thought it [...] glory unto her to be courted by a man whom every one eſteemed: I found the humour of Palanice did relliſh my opinion; whether becauſe ſhe had already ſome inclination to love him, or whether ſhe was ſwayed by the good opinion I had of him, I do not know; but ſo it was, that as ſoon as I adviſed [Page] her to entertain the affection of Sileines, ſhe expreſſed her ſelf unto me, in theſe terms.

I have good reaſon (dear confident, for ſo we uſed to call each other) to ask your advice in the carriage of my ſelf towards him: for you muſt know, that the day after he danced in a Maſque, wherein he repreſented Narciſſus, who was in love with himſelf, he met me at the Queens lodgings, who is the mother of Sigiſmond, and diſcourſed with me upon matters of meer indifferency; but as ſoon as I talked of the Maſque, and told him how admirably well he danced. O heaven I my faireſt Palanice (ſaid he unto me) do not put me in memory of a groſſe fault which I then committed, and which were I out of hopes to obtain a pardon for, I ſhould not live. I who did not underſtand what he meant, did anſwer him, that I knew of no fault he had comitted, but on the contrary took notice how every one admired and commended his behaviour. If every one did ſo (ſaid he) then am not I like unto them; for I know that I did commit a very great fault in perſonating to be in love with my ſelf, whereas it ought to have been, in really perſonating my ſelf in love with you.

God knows how ſtrangely I was ſurprized, when I heard this diſcourſe come from him: I ſwear (dear confident) it was diſcourſe which I little expected; and becauſe I could do no other, I bluſht, and in a little anger anſwered: Though you ſhould Sir, change the object of your love, yet you cannot change your deſtiny, ſince you cannot hope ever to obtain any thing from me, more then from that Image which you perſonated to adore in your glaſſe: In ſaying ſo, I removed a little from him, imagining he would not purſue any further, becauſe my companions advanced; but he putting his hand into his pocket, he pulled out ſome ſweet-meats, and preſented them: Every one took ſome, and I, to teſtifie that I had no cauſe to complain againſt him, I took an orange comfit which he preſented unto me; but as ſoon as I bad it in my hand, I began to play with it, and toſſe it up and down like a little ball: He, who feared that it would fall, came to me, and ſaid aloud, do you, fair Palanice, make ſo little account of my preſent? I who did a little better underſtand his mind then before, and that he tacitly alluded unto the affection which he had already expreſſed unto me; I do not at all ſlight it (anſwered I) but the reaſon why I thus play with it is, becauſe it is ſo light. Take heed (ſaid he) that it fall not into the power of ſome of your companions; for perhaps they will make better uſe of it then you do. There is none of my companions (anſwered I) that will offer any ſuch thing: then caſting down his eye, and ſpeaking in a low voice, though it be only to ſhew (ſaid he) that I am not your deadly enemy, I beſeech you eat it, believe me it is not poyſon unleſſe love, by my carriage of it, has given it a tincture of that which hath infected my heart. Upon this, he retired, and I muſt needs confeſſe I ſuſpected his craft; but ſince there was no remedy, I reſolved to keep this Orange comfit from being ſtoln from me, leſt if any one ſhould have diſcovered the cunning of Sileines, they might think I conſented to the invention: The Queen at the ſame time retired, and as ſoon as I ſaw my ſelf alone in the chamber, I began to diſpute with my ſelf, whether I would open it or throw it into the fire; but my curioſities being above all other conſiderations; I broke it in two, and ſaw a little paper incloſed within it: I took the paper, and opening it, I found theſe words written in it.

The Letter of SILEINES unto PALANICE.

Pardon me, my faireſt Palanice, if I made uſe of this device to deceive your cruelty, and put not an unhappy conſtruction upon my love, though the firſt teſtimony of it be a piece of juggling: If your pity do afford me any favour, I ſhall bleſſe the invention which my paſsion prompted me to uſe, with a vow never to uſe it again, in the expreſsion of my devoted ſervice, which you cannot refuſe without making me the most miſerable men in the world.

[Page]I had no ſooner read this paper, but I reſolved to ſhew it unto you, and not to let Sileines know I had ſeen it, until I had conſulted with you what to do, and therefore I told you the whole truth, to the end you may adviſe me unto the ſame courſe you would take your ſelf, if the like accident ſhould befal you.

This was the firſt diſcourſe that Palanice and I had of it together, by which I was fully informed of the paſſion of Sileines, and of her inclination to entertain his courtſhip: ſo as having in ſome ſort found out her humour, I ſolicited in his behalf, that after removal of ſome ſmall difficulties, ſhe permitted him to ſerve her; upon condition he would behave himſelf ſo diſcreetly, that his very thoughts could not be condemned: which Sileines promiſed with ſo many proteſtations, that I believe the earth would have opned and ſwallowed him up, if he had been perjured.

Ever ſince that time, he continued his courtſhip, with ſo much love and aſſiduity, that the heart of Palanice had been a hundred times harder then Marble, if ſhe had not been ſenſible of his expreſſions: I remember one day he deſired her to give him a favour; ſhe, deſiring time to conſider of it, came unto me the very ſame day, and entreated me to tell her, whether it were juſt, ſhe would give him ſome teſtimonies of her affection: to which I anſwered, that ſince ſhe did really love him, and knew his diſcretion ſo great as might aſſure her of his love, ſhe might well let him know, that ſhe eſteemed him above any other; but yet I adviſed her to make triall upon ſome occaſion, whether his love was anſwerable to his expreſſions.

Palanice hearkned unto my advice, and firſt ſhe gave him a favour, which was a bracelet of her hair, woven with gold thred into letters, which made theſe words; Better the Heart then the Arm: The firſt time Sileines ſaw her, he begg'd again for a favour; I will (ſaid ſhe) give you a teſtimony of my amity, but withal, I would have you give me in exchange a teſtimony of your obedience. Sileines, who to obtain this honour, would have promiſed impoſſibilities, did ſwear whaſoever ſhe deſired. Then (ſaid Palanice) all that I require of you, conſiſts in two things; that you will not laugh at this favour which I give you, though it be unworthy of your merit: Secondly, that after I have tied it about your arm, you will not look upon it in three dayes. As to the firſt of your commands, (anſwered Sileines) there is no great difficulty, Madam, in obtaining it; for nothing can come from you. but is more worthy of admiration then laughter: But, Madam, as for the ſecond, pardon me I beſeech you, if I do not promiſe more then I am able to perform: for I am ſo infinitly deſirous to ſee that which is a teſtimony of your affection, as I dare not ſwear I will abſtain a day from the ſight of ſo dear a favour: Well, replied Palanice, then promiſe me you will not look upon it, until you be come unto your own chamber: I will Madam (replied Sileines) ſince you deſire it.

Upon this, Palanice cauſing him to hold his hat before his eyes, and charged him not to take it away; ſhe unbuttoned one of his ſleeves, and after ſhe had put on the bracelet, ſhe buttoned it up again: As ſoon as Sileines had leave to take away his hat, he fell down upon his knees, and taking the hand of Palanice, faireſt hand (ſaid he and kiſſed it) which this day daigns to admit into the number of Palanices ſleeves, I do ſwear by thy fair ſelf, that I will never break the marks of my captivity; and that there is no conſideration whatſoever, that can indure me to caſt of my bonds. Upon that, not ſtaying ſo long as till Palanice could ſpeak one word, he ran out of the chamber, and as faſt as he could unto his own. As ſoon as he was there, he went into his cloſet, and locked the door: Then opening his ſleeve, his eye and his mouth went both at once to that part of his arm which he perceived to preſſe him a little: But O, in what a wonder was he, when he found it to be Palanices hair, compos'd into a bracelet of fine curioſity: he has told me ſince, that his aſtoniſhment was the greater, becauſe he expected it to be only ſome of her knots which ſhe uſed to wear; he ſtood a long while, and looked upon it, not daring to utter one word, for interrupting his raviſhment: afterward, upon a ſudden, kiſſing every letter in it one after another: Yes, yes, faireſt Palanice (ſaid he) it is moſt true, that this favour is better upon the heart then the arm: After this he was ſilent again; and kiſſing it a thouſand times, pardon [Page] me (O ye great gods, ſaid he) if I do commit this Idolatry, and adore the giver of this, as the moſt perfect work of a great divinity.

Fair Phillis, it would be ſuperfluous to relate all his expreſſions, upon this pleaſing ſubject: it is ſufficient I tell you, that he ſtayed in his cloſet above two howers, and would have ſtayed there much longer, if Lucindor had not called him, who came to invite him from Sigiſmond, to a courſe at the ring, which was to be held within two or three dayes by the Queens command. It was not long before I knew from Palanice her ſelf, that Sileines had this bracelet; and therefore I told her that ſhe had already done much at the requeſt of this young Cavalier; and that I thought it expedient for her to try by ſome artifice or other, whether he did really love her. Palanice told me that ſhe would, and that before eight dayes were over, ſhe would tell me what ſhe had done: but it it fit I ſhould tell you how ſhe went to work, that you may ſee the quickneſſe of her wit.

I told you before, that within two or three dayes after Sileines had the bracelet, the Queen was to beſtow a ring, at which ſhe would have Sigiſmond to run, and with him all the Cavalry of the Court; and Sileines being one of the greateſt Gallants in it, he was invited unto it by this young Prince. The next morning, then he went to acquaint Palanice; and ſhe, who was very glad of that occaſion to execute her deſign; as ſoon as Sileines began to ſpeak of it, and ſay that he thought none was able to diſpute with him for this ring, ſince he ran at it for the love of her: You (anſwered Palanice) ſhall not diſpute for it with any, for you ſhall not run at all. Pardon me, Madam, I beſeech you, ſaid the Cavalier: for Sigiſmond commanded me unto it by Lucindor. And I, replied Palanice, do forbid you. I hope, replied Sileines, you are more juſt, and a greater friend unto my reputation, then to forbid me the performance of what I have promiſed: Ah Sileines (ſaid Palanice) this is but a ſlender argument of any power that I have over you. Why, Madam, (replied the Cavalier) were it that your ſervice called me another way, I proteſt I would excuſe my ſelf, and had rather diſpleaſe Sigiſmond then you; or if you do poſitively command it ſo, I will obey; Then (ſaid Palanice) diſengage your ſelf from your promiſe; for if you do love, or will obey me, do not run, but ſtay with me all that day whilſt the reſt are at the ſport. Sileines was a little importunate to know the reaſons which moved her unto this; but Palanice her ſelf knowing none, it was impoſſible ſhe ſhould give him any. The very ſame night, he went unto the chamber of Sigiſmond, and being not able to think upon any thing but the commands of his Miſtreſſe, he took his opportunity ſo fitly, that as he was coming to this young Prince, his foot ſlipt, and he fell down to the ground: At the firſt, none thought he had received any hurt, but Sigiſmond himſelf began to laugh; but when they ſaw him get up, with much pain, and that he complained, every one came to him to know how he did; he told them that his ancle was out of joint, and the young Prince believing it, cauſed a coach to be immediatly made ready to carry him unto his chamber: afterwards ſent ſeveral Chirurgeons with ſpecial charge to have care of his cure; but Sileines who would not be viſited, leſt a report ſhould be made of his heart, contrary to his intention, he told them he had ſent for a Chirurgeon of his own, in whoſe experience he had a great confidence.

The noiſe of this miſhap which was believed to befall Sileines, was quickly ſpred all over the Town, and Palanice was not the laſt that heard of it: yet ſeeming to be ignorant of the cauſe, ſhe entreated Cerintes to go and ſee him; but Sileines hearing that Palanice was pleaſed to have any care of him, I beſeech you Sir, ſaid he unto Cerintes, aſſure Palanice, that ſince ſhe is pleaſed to pity my miſhap, I feel no pain: and were I freed from my diſpleaſure, that I cannot wait upon Sigiſmond at the Courſe, there is nothing now that would trouble me: which Cerintes having told unto his ſiſter, ſhe preſently underſtood his meaning, ſo apt are Lovers to expound the words and actions which do any thing concern them.

The day aſſigned for the Courſe at the ring came, and Sileines with a ſtaff in his hand, as if he could not go without it, coming to the lodging of Palanice, [Page] he waited upon her unto a friends houſe, whoſe windows looked towards the place where the Courſe was to be: It was not long after before Sigiſmond came, and with him a great number of Cavaliers, all whom, after a long diſpute, yielded the praiſe unto the agility of that young Prince, who carried it away, to the great contentment of all the Court. Whilſt they were running at the ring, Palanice and Sileines did nothing but talk; and if it were true which ſhe ſince told me, their diſcourſe was to this purpoſe: They leaned both together upon the ſame window, and Sileines looking upon his Miſtreſſe, as if he were raviſhed at ſo fair a ſight; how infinitly have you obliged me Madam (ſaid he unto her) in forbiding me to appear amongſt theſe Cavaliers, that I might enjoy the happineſſe of being ſo near you? Some (anſwered ſhe) are often near in body, who are far off in heart. That misfortune (ſaid Sileines) is inevitable unto all ſuch as are owners of ſo little merit as I am. Truly (replied Palanice) I muſt confeſſe you have qualities enough to win eſteem; but I cannot perſwade my ſelf you have ſuch, as will make all the women that look upon you, run out of their wits for the love of you: I ſwear (replied Sileines and ſmiled a little) that as I have not the power to do it, ſo I have not ſo much arrogance as to think it; and ſhould I deſire to be perfectly loved by any one (I mean not ſo far as run mad for me) I proteſt I ſhould wiſh it were your ſelf, whom I adore, and for whom my life is only pleaſing unto me: you will quickly leave off that wiſh (anſwered Palanice) ſince you can never gain any thing upon me, who am inviolably reſolved to hold all men alike indifferent.

O heavens, Madam! (ſaid Sileines and interrupted her) do you not remember thoſe oathes and proteſtations you have made in my favour? I do remember, replied Palanice, all the promiſes that I made unto you: and if your memory be as good as mine, you will find, that though I did ſwear to love you▪ yet I did not thereby ſwear to hate all other men, but will on the contrary, carreſſe them equally, without giving one more credit or authority over me then another. May then every one, replied Sileines, pretend unto the ſame favours which I have obtained from you; how can I put any high value upon them, if your melting kindneſſe make them common unto all the world? Then he held his peace to hear what Palanice would anſwer; but ſeeing her to look another way; O moſt cruel fair one (continued he) is it poſſible you ſhould in ſo ſhort a time change your inclination? and do you intend to recompence my obedience no better. I perceive (ſaid Palanice) you think that you have done a great matter at this time, and think me much beholding vnto you, for depriving your ſelf of the pleaſure of one poor day; but Sileines, ſince you have ſo good an opinion of your ſelf, and aſpires unto ſo great a recompence for ſo ſmall a matter, I pray look betimes for ſome that will give them unto you: as for my part, I will not, and ſwear unto you, that I ſhall be very glad if you will trouble me no more. Sileines, aſtoniſhed to ſee her ſo angry, and not knowing what in the world ſhould be the cauſe: Fair Palanice, anſwered he, if it be my love that troubles you, pardon me if I tell you, my fidelity will not ſuffer me to give you leſſe; but if it be my preſence which vexes you, you ſhall not long languiſh in that diſpleaſure: for I do proteſt not to preſent my ſelf before you, until I be well aſſured that you deſire my company: In ſaying ſo, he went from her, and would have gone out of the chamber; but Palanice who followed him with her eye, called him back as he was opening the door.

As ſoon as Sileines heard himſelf named he turned back; and coming to her, ſhe ſaid unto him, with a ſcornful look, ſince you intend to retire your ſelf, Sileines, it is not reaſonable you ſhould keep a companion with you that may trouble you in your ſolitude, therefore (ſaid ſhe) pray r [...]ſtore me back my bracelet; for I will have it again. I wiſh with all my heart (anſwered Sileines) that I were able to give you that contentment; but having ſworn never to part with it as long as I have life, you muſt, if you would have it back command me to die: Die or live, ſaid Palanice, I am indifferent, ſo I can but obtain what I ask, and have my own hair again: Fair peice of cruelty (replied the young Cavalier) can your rigour find a heart to kill me, before I know the cauſe of it? Will you uſe me with more [Page] Tyranny, then thoſe whom they uſe to doom unto death before they be convinced of any crime? Do not accuſe any for the treatment which you receive, anſwered Palanice, but the ſhallowneſſe of your own merit; and unleſſe you will moſt mortally diſpleaſe me, reſtore unto me immediatly the bracelet which you had of me. But Madam, replied Sileines, you gave it unto me freely without any condition; therefore, replied Palanice, I would have it freely again without any condition. As long as I have done nothing (ſaid Sileines) which renders me unworthy to enjoy it, is it not extream injuſtice to raviſh it from me: tell me no more of injuſtice (replied Palanice) all the reaſon in the world allows me to take my own where ere I find it: I am afraid, replied Sileines, that you will have much ado to unty it; for there are a thouſand knots upon it: No matter, no matter (anſwered Palanice) I have a pair of Sciſſers which will do that office excellently well, if you will but hold out your arm. Well, well, perſidious woman (ſaid Sileines in a rage and holding out his arm) ſatisfie your fury, and take your fill in ruining me, I will not give you ſo much advantage, as to ſay hereafter, that ever I oppoſed your will in any thing: Upon this Palanice did cut the ribband which tyed it together, and having put it into her pocket: Go now (ſaid ſhe unto him) even whether you pleaſe, and ſay that you are beholding unto me for cutting your chains and ſetting you at liberty: in ſaying ſo, ſhe went to the window, not ſo much as caſting a look upon him; and poor Sileines, ſunk in ſorrow, went away; but quite cured of his lameneſſe, for his rage had made him forget his ſtaffe, and to counterfeit a cripple, as he did when he came.

His humour (ſaid Hylas, who ſat and ſaid not a word till now) point blank contrary unto mine: could I with any patience ever endure ſhe ſhould call me troubleſome, and accuſe me of too little merit for her? Let me dy if I would not have given her, not only the bracelet, but dublet, ſhirt, and all, to be delivered from the Tyranny of ſuch a peeviſh piece. Sileines did not ſo, replied Florice, but being enraged at ſuch treatment from that fair one, he reſolved to come no more where ſhe was; and began to prepare himſelf for travel, ſo find ſome remedy againſt his ſorrows.

As ſoon as the running at the ring was ended, Palanice came to give me an accompt of all ſhe had done; and becauſe I knew by her looks and ſpeech, that ſhe repented of it, I adviſed her to think upon a remedy. We went therefore to ſee Cercinea; and though that fair one was his ſiſter, yet ſhe knew nothing of his ſecrets, for Palanice durſt never truſt her, becauſe ſhe was very young. Though we had known nothing of what had hapned unto her brother, yet we might well have imagined it by the diſorder in the houſe: for the inquietude wherein Cercinea was, and thoſe tears which ſomtimes fell from her eyes did give us ſufficient knowledg of it: yet ſeeming to be ignorant of all, we beſeeched her not to conceal from us the cauſe of her ſorrow. She was not at all ſhie in telling us all very freely; how about two hours ago ſhe had ſeen her brother ſo extreamly troubled and offended, that it greived her very heart; for, ſaid ſhe, he asked ſome money of me, which he gave me to keep, he cauſed all his clothes to be packed up, he commanded his horſes to be made ready, and I ſaw him in ſuch ſtrange diſorder, as it troubled my very ſoul: I wiſh (ſaid Palanice) that he were here, for he would not hide from me the cauſe of his diſcontent: Alas, ſaid Cercinea innocently, never believe that; I think he loves me very well, and that I have as much power with him as any in the world, but all my prayers and deſires could not get one word from him. In ſaying ſo, they ſaw Sileines enter, and paſſed by, not ſeeing who was in the chamber: Palanice, thinking all that Cercinea ſaid of her brothers deſpair was true, ſhe ſeemed to have ſomething to do out of the chamber, and went unto the Hall dor, out of which Sileines muſt of neceſſity paſſe, before he could go out of the houſe: Sileines, ſo troubled in mind, that he never took any notice of me, he took his cloak and ſword; but when thinking to go out, he ſaw Palanice at the door, he was extreamly aſtoniſhed. She, who ſtood in the midſt of the door-ſtead, and held out both her arms to ſtop the paſſe, with her face from the houſe; as ſoon as ſhe heard him coming, who is there? (ſaid ſhe, and turned a little about) Sileines then, not ſo much as [Page] lifting up an eye, it is I, anſwered he, that would go out. Out? ſaid Palanice, what? out of my heart, or out of the houſe? out of the world, replied Sileines, ſince your cruelty will not ſuffer me to live: after this, ſtriving a little wi [...]h her, as being deſirous to paſſe whether ſhe would or no, Palanice catched hold of his arm; I wonder (ſaid ſhe) you ſhould ſo much forget the Laws of civility, as to force thoſe that have taken the pains to come and viſit you: No, no, replied Sileines, you love your own contentment better, then to take any pains to come and viſit a man that is ſo troubleſome, and of ſo ſhallow merits as I am. Palanice, who knew well enough what he meant; whether you be troubleſome or welcome unto me (ſaid ſhe unto him) I will not now diſpute; but be it which it will, I would have you ſtay in the houſe, and if I have any power of you, I command it.

But fair Phillis, to ſhorten my diſcourſe, Palanice carried the matter ſo, that ſhe ſtayed him, and gave him ſuch full ſatisfaction, that in the preſence of his Siſter, who ever ſince had a ſhare in his ſecrets, ſhe ſwore, that as long as he carried himſelf with the ſame fidelity and diſcretion as formerly, ſhe would never change. Now, O our fair and juſt Judge, I cannot tell whether it be that men grow weary in proſperity, or are glutted with too many favours; but moſt certainly, they are all inconſtant, and more by being too much loved, then too little. Sileines is an argument of it in his change: for without any good excuſe and colourable pretence, he caſt off my companion, and devoting himſelf unto Doriſa, did ſo extreamly offend Palanice, that in revenge ſhe permitted Roſiliander to make addreſſes unto her; but though a marriage betwixt them was almoſt fully concluded, yet ſhe reſolved, that if her perſidious Sileines would return again unto his duty, ſhe would find out ſome invention or other to break off with Roſililiander: ſhe ventured therefore a Letter unto him; but he, in lieu of giving her any hopes, returned this anſwer.

The Letter of SILEINES unto PALANICE.

You think that the Letter which you writ unto me is a testimony of your love; but I take it to be a full aſſurance of your infidelity. You are like unto ſuch as are ready to die, and would never have any recourſe unto any remedies, till their diſeaſe be paſt all hopes of cure. Marry freely Palanice, ſince heaven and you have conſpired my ruine, and do not think I will ever forbid the banes, ſince it is not fit men ſhould contradict the ordinances of the gods. I must needs confeſſe, that he whom you ſhall love, ſhall enjoy the richeſt treaſure that is this day upon the earth: But ſince I ſhall never be jealous, nor have any deſire to buy it at ſo dear a rate as the loſſe of my liberty, I ſhall not envy him: your inconſtancy has begot in me ſuch an odium unto all women, as if they do but hate all men, as much as I do hate all them, the age wherein we live will be the laſt of Nature, and ſo adieu.

This Letter did put Palanice into ſuch a rage againſt him, that to put him out of all hopes of ever pretending again unto her, ſhe gave her ſelf unto Roſiliander, who after he had married her, did carry her into the moſt fruitful place of the Sebuſians. Sileines repented himſelf of his fault; but it was now too late; and all that he could ever obtain from Palanice, was ſome Letters, by which ſhe aſſured him, that ſhe did eſteem him as much as the condition wherein ſhe was would permit her. In fine, Roſiliander died; Palanice returned to Lions, and the lover▪ of Sileines and ſhe began to kindle into as hot a flame as ever; yet with leſſe tranquilility unto him: for Amilcar his brother, who returned at the ſame time, became his Rival, and fell ſo deſperately in love with Palanice, that after a million of expreſſions of it, ſhe could nor chuſe but wiſh him well. I muſt confeſſe, that at [Page] the firſt I would have diverted him; but at laſt, when I ſaw his wound was incurable, I left Sileines, and took Amilcars part; and do what Cercinea his Siſter could, I did ſo harp upon this ſtring unto Palanice, that the firſt falling away of Sileines had made him ſo unworthy of ever being loved again, that if I did not abſolutely overcome her, yet at leaſt I made her confeſſe, that both of them had an equal weight in the ballance of her eſteem, and that ſhe would give her ſelf unto him whom the gods appointed her by their Oracle.

Now fair and wiſe Shepherdeſſe, there remains no more, but to acquaint you with the follies of my youth, which I could wiſh any other were to relate; but ſince the lot is fallen upon me, I will relate them without any artifice, and beſeech you to excuſe me, if my imperfections make you think the relation tedious.

Be pleaſed to know, fair and juſt Judge, that of theſe two Cavaliers, to wit, Lucindor the brother of Cercinea, and Cerintes the brother of Palanice, Lucindor was the firſt that profeſſed love unto me. I will leave it unto Silvander, to find out the cauſe of this affection: for my part, I do ingeniouſly confeſſe my ſelf not to be ſo good a ſcholler as to know it. But however, thus it began: Lucindor hapned one day to come into a great deal of good company, where they fell into talk of me, and to lament the death of a young Cavalier, who they ſay ſerved me, and who ſome five or ſix months before was ſlain by a man whom he loved. This Cavalier was called Meliſeor; a man of an excellent wit, and one who though very young, yet eſteemed one of the beſt Schollers of all Gaul-Lyoneſſe. Now after many a ſigh at the remembrance of this loſſe, they aſſured Lucindor, that there was an extream reſemblance betwixt him and Meliſeor, and that they found the very ſame features in both their faces: which Lucindor being very glad of, and proud of that reſemblance, he reſolved to ſee me, and to try whether he ſhould have the ſame inclination unto me which the ſaid Meliſeor had; but ſee the power of Sympathy, or rather Deſtiny: Lucindor being brought by Cercinea, unto a place where I was in company, he no ſooner caſt his eye upon me but he was raviſht; and ſuffering himſelf to be captivated by that appearance of beauty which he ſaw in my face, he made a ſecret Sacrifice of his liberty unto me. For my part, I muſt needs confeſſe, his handſome mind ſo charmed me, that I preſently began to have a deſign upon him, and to ſpruce up my ſelf to catch him; but it was not long before I ſaw, that the place which I intended to beſiege was already rendred unto me: for Lucindor, after ſome amorous ſquints had paſſed between us' coming nearer me: Did you know, fair Florice (ſaid he unto me, an encounter that is befallen me, it would make you laugh: and you may make it ſad or pleaſant unto me, as you pleaſe. I anſwered only with a ſmile which told him, that his firſt accoſt was not diſpleaſing unto me, and this made him the more confident and bold to go on, and relate unto me what they had told him of the reſemblance he had with Meliſeor; and truly (ſaid he) I do verily believe it, ſince they told me at the ſame time that he loved you, and ſince the firſt time my eyes had the honour to ſee you, I was never able to defend my ſelf againſt thoſe overcoming charms wherewith you have captivated me. You ought not (anſwered I) give any more credit unto them that Meliſeor loved me, then I do unto you when you would perſwade me that you alſo do love me: 'Tis true, I knew that Cavalier, and I did no leſſe eſteem his merit, then I do lament his ſad and fatal end; but I am of an humour ſo far from ſuffering any courtſhips of men, as I know, that though I had a deſire unto it, yet he durſt never be ſo arrogant as to preſume any mention of it: In ſaying ſo, I caſt my eye upon Lucindor, and perceived that he changed colour; for the coldneſſe of my anſwer went to his heart and ſtruct him dumb; but afterwards taking a little better courage: If ever he did love you (ſaid he unto me) I cannot believe but he did expreſſe it unto you; and truly though you are pleaſed to accuſe him of a fault if he had, yet what puniſhment ſoever I muſt expect, I cannot chuſe but commit the ſame crime.

I ſhall trouble you, my Judge, with a relation of his anſwer, and what arguments he uſed to win my conſent unto a reception of his ſervice: But ſo it was [Page] that I yielded unto his importunity, and permiting him to expreſſe his paſſion in writing, I received almoſt every day a Letter from him for a long while together, all which he gave unto me himſelf; for want of a perſon whom I durſt truſt with the intereſt which I had in him. Within a ſhort while after, Cerintes, he declared himſelf; and becauſe he feared I was too far engaged in my affection unto Lucindor, he did not diſcouer himſelf at the firſt unto me; but he knew ſo well how to comply with the humour of my Father, that the good old man▪ thinking him a convenient match for me, he did command me to love him. This did not put me to a little pains; and the more, becauſe Lucindor, having ſome touch of a jealous nature, did evidently make it appear unto me, that he could not brook his Rival without abundance of impatiencience; yet I carried my ſelf ſo ſwimmingly, both to the one and the other, that they both went away without any reaſon to boaſt of any particular ſatisfaction. Yet I had a ſtronger inclination unto Lucindor then Cerintes; and the greateſt light that ever he had of it was one night when we were at the table, and jeſting with one another, my Father gave a book unto us, out of which we might draw our fortunes; either for war, or for riches, or for love, or marriage, or many other ſeveral things: Cerintes was the firſt who caſt the dice, to know whether or no, he ſhould obtain his Miſtreſſe, and met with a very favourable lot which gave him great contentment. Lucindor on the contrary, he was ſo unfortunate, as he met with the moſt unkind anſwer in all the book; at which ſeeing him a little troubled, caſt the dice again (ſaid I unto him) for to be more aſſured of the truth, one muſt try more then once: to which Lucindor conſenting, he threw the dice the ſecond time; but meeting with the very ſame fortune, he fell into a moſt furious chaſe, and ſwore he would eat the dice if he met with the ſame lot again; but he might well be angry with his Fortune, for it changed not; for throwing the dice again he was as unhappy as before. Let me die, if it did not extreamly aſtoniſh me, for though I gave no credit unto ſuch fooleries, yet I could not chuſe but ſuſpect that our affection would meet with ſome ſiniſter event. Being no leſſe damped at this chance then he, I took up the dice; but Lucindor laid his hand upon mine to take them from me, and eat them according to his oath; and ſeeing I reſiſted him, he prayed me to give them unto him: but I ſaid unto him in a low voice, I fear Lucindor, that you will uſe them ill, if I ſubmit them to your mercy: I will uſe them (ſaid he) as an enemy, that has robb'd me of all my hopes, unleſſe you will be pleaſed to make my Deſtiny more kind unto me then they have: your welfare Lucindor (ſaid I unto him) depends upon your merit, and not upon chance; and therefore, if you have any good opinion of your ſelf, let me adviſe you to hope well. You muſt peremptorily command me ſo to do (replied he) if it be your pleaſure I ſhould live. Well (ſaid I unto him in a low voice) I do then command you, and be confident you ſhall be as happy as I can make you. Upon this, I threw the dice upon the Table, and we continued in our rallary, until it was my Fathers pleaſure to retire.

It was not the latter end of Winter, and as ill luck was, an Aunt of mine who lived in the countrey, fell ſick, and ſent to entreat my Father that I might come and ſtay with her. Upon this I went, and being well aſſured, that both Lucindor and Cerintes would come and viſit me, I was afraid, leſt ſome fits of jealouſie ſhould make them fall foul upon each other, as they met upon the way; and therefore I charged them both, upon pain of my diſpleaſure, not to ſtir out of Lions: Cerintes was obedient, and I muſt confeſſe his obedience did much pleaſe me, But Lucindor, after he had endured this abſence, with as much grief as a man that loves well could do, and imagining, that what crime ſoever he committed, I loved him ſo well as to pardon it, he reſolved to ſee me, and began to conſider upon the way how.

Fortune preſently after favoured his deſires: for my Aunt ſending a young man to acquaint my Father with her recovery, Lucindor chanced to meet with him, and knew ſo well how to tickle the fellow with fair words, that he made him promiſe to bring him unto my chamber, when I was ready to go into bed. So as when the young man was returned, and told us how glad my Father was to hear [Page] of his Siſters recovery, he began to think upon the promiſe which he made unto Lucindor, who according to appointment, was to come that night: The Cavalier in the interim forgot not his time; but before I tell you how I received him, I will tell you what befel him by the way.

Firſt, he ſet out of Lions in the evening, none taking any notice of him; and becauſe the gates of the Town did uſe alwayes to be ſhut very timely, he went out alſo betimes, and ſtayed in the ſuburbs until it was a fit time for him to ſet forward. The air was very muddy, and much diſpoſed unto rain: ſo as he was no ſooner ſet forward, but the clouds began to open, and ſhower down in ſuch abundance, that though he had a very thick cloak, yet was he as wet, as if he had been thrown into a river: The Moon lent no light at all; and thus accompanied with rain and obſcurity, he went on his journey; yet chearing up himſelf in hopes of enjoying two or three ſweet hours with me. He had not gone above the third part of a mile, but miſſing his way, and galloping through woods and buſhes, he hit his head againſt ſomething which ſtruct off his hat: at the ſame inſtant he ſpied a man, who, as he thought, had an intention to pull him off from his horſe: At the firſt, he apprehended him to be ſome thief who waited in the way for a prize; therefore ſpurring on his horſe, he galloped ſome fourty or fifty paces, afterwards he ſtopped, and drew his ſword, ready to defend himſelf againſt any that followed him: He ſtood a while in this poſture, ſtill enduring all the rain, which powred down faſter and faſter. Seeing none came after him, he liſtned with his ear, to try whether he could hear any noiſe; and then he thought he heard ſome laugh near the place where he ſaw the man; but not thinking it poſſible to find his hat again, he put his cloak over his head, and in this equipage he came to my Aunts houſe, and at the gate, he found the fellow that had promiſed to let him enter.

Lucindor was ſo pitifully wet, that his clothes made a ſtream of water whereſoever he came, yet being ſhewed which was my chamber, [...] entred juſt as I was beginning to undreſſe my ſelf. He preſently caſt himſelf at my feet, and taking my hand kiſſed it, I making no reſiſtance, for I was ſo ſurprized at his arrival, that I was even ready to fall into a ſwoon. Yet imagining, that perhaps ſome grand reaſon had induced him unto this diſobedience, I asked him with a trembling voice, if my Father was well, and he anſwered, yes. What is it then (ſaid I unto him) which makes you ſo bold as to come out of Lions and deſpiſe my commands? My love, replied he, which would not let me live and not ſee you. How? (ſaid I) will ſo ſmall a matter move you to diſpleaſe me? Madam, anſwered he, do you think the life of a man that loves you above all the world, ſo ſmall a matter? very well, Lucindor, replied I, and ſeemed to be extreamly angry, ſince you do love your life ſo well, and ſince it concerns me to have a care of my reputation, ſtay not a jot longer in this place, where neither of us both can be in ſafety. He offered to reply ſomething, but I interrupted him, go, go, ſaid I, haſte away as faſt as ever you can, upon pain of eternal diſpleaſure. Upon this I ran into my Wardrobe and ſhut the door, reſolved not to come out till he was gone out of the chamber: But Lucindor, at the firſt ſtood ſtill, as if he were immovable; but at laſt, enraged at my cold entertainment of him, he went out in a moſt deſperate mood, and took horſe without a hat, though the fellow which gave him entrance did offer to lend him one.

As ſoon as he was gone, I would needs know by what trick he had thus ſurprized me; and the young fellow confeſſing that it was by his means, alſo that Lucindor told him, he came upon buſineſſe that was very ſerviceable to me; though I firſt threat [...] to make him be turned away, yet afterwards, upon his asking pardon, and his repentant tears, I could not find in my heart to puniſh him.

Lucindor in the mean time returned homewards, the moſt afflicted man that ever received any ill treatment from his Miſtreſſe; but as if the weather were more kind unto him then I: the clouds cleared up, and the Moon ſhined upon him as if it were a new day; and therefore riding on, he eſpied upon his left hand, a gibbet, raiſed up above the ground, about eight or nine foot, and ſome three or [Page] four paces further, a corps lying upon the ground, he began to think it the body of ſome Fellon, but he could not imagine why the corps that ſhould have been upon the gibbet, ſhould be under it. At laſt, conſidering upon it, he remembred what adventure he met withal about that ſame place and imagining, that perhaps riding under this gibbet, he light upon the corps and threw it down, and then believed that this was the theif whom he ſuſpected; and to confirm him in this belief, as he rode a little further he found his hat, which he took up, and continued in his way: the only thing wherein he was not ſatiſfied, was, that he thought he heard ſome laugh; but hearing upon a ſudden, the cry of ſome Owl or night Raven, which uſed to feed upon that corps, he found his miſtake, and that his fears at that time had in ſome ſort diſordered his judgement: Lucindor hath ſince confeſſed unto me, that he could laugh heartily at this adventure, if the condition wherein he was would permit him to entertain any other thoughts, but ſuch as bore the image of deſpair: and if it was true which he told me, his ſoul was ſo ſunk in ſorrows, that nothing in the world was able to raiſe it unto any pitch of mirth. Thinking therefore upon the cold entertainment which I gave him, he began to ſigh out ſo many ſad complaints againſt me, that his journey ended ſooner then his ſorrows. Yet night not being done, he called at the houſe from whence he departed, and ſtaying there till the gates of the Town were opened, he went unto his own houſe; in which he was no ſooner entred but a feaver ſeized upon him, and in a ſhort time grew ſo violent, that every one deſpaired of his recovery.

My Aunt was now perfectly recovered; and my Father ſending for me home. I was no ſooner returned, but I heard Lucindor was ready to die. I muſt confeſſe, that I was very angry with him: but hearing this ſad news, I did ſo quite forget his fault, and was ſo exceedingly troubled at it, that my Father himſelf, by the alteration of my face, perceived my ſorrows, and certainly I had ſome reaſon to be ſorry for him for when I began to conſider, that if he had not loved me, he would never have [...]ollen out in the night time, to come and ſee me, and conſequently, would not have endured ſuch rain, wind, and weather, as he did: all this made me pity him ſo much, as if it had been poſſible, I would have endured the one half of his pain, as a puniſhment upon my ſelf, for being the principal cauſe. All the Phyſicians of Gondebaut were imployed about him; but as he told me, I had better Phyſick for his diſeaſe then all they: for indeed, as ſoon as ever he heard that I had pardoned his diſobedience, he began to mend, and within twelve dayes after left his bed.

Cerintes in the mean time had entirely gotten the good will of my Father, and yet being unwilling to marry an enemy, he did all that poſſibly he could to make me a friend; but ſtill finding that Lucindor was highly in my favour, and that I looked upon him with a more favourable eye then upon himſelf, he began to be almoſt furious. He intended therefore to teſtifie his reſentments to the height; and thus he went to work. One evening, when Lucindor and he did come to keep my Father company, after ſome ordinary diſcourſe, I entreated Cerintes to ſing: he taking my Lute, muſick Madam (ſaid he unto me) does not ſympathize with my ſadneſſe; yet ſince you command me, I ſhall ſing you a very new air, which one of my beſt friends compoſed, and none but my ſelf ever heard as yet: upon this he ſate down, tuned the Lute, looked upon me, and ſung certain verſes which extreamly reflected upon his Rival.

Afterwards, he laid the Lute down upon the Table, and ſat ſilent: I bluſh'd; but on the contrary, Lucindor grew pale; and I obſerved, that he had an itching deſire to call him to an accompt for the words of his ſong. Yet being in a place where reſpect tyed him to the good behaviour, he contented himſelf to ſay this unto him: Your ſong, Cerintes, is very fine, and I believe, that if he who compoſed it ſhould ſing it before any that was concerned in it, it would beget a quarrel: Perhaps (anſwered Cerintes) it was ſo intended: Then they looked upon each other in ſuch a manner, as made my Father plainly perceive the cauſe of their quarrel: and therefore intending to ſtop the courſe, he carryed them both into his cloſet, and uſed ſuch perſwaſive arguments as made them friends; and conceiving [Page] the only way, to take away th [...] [...]ffects of their ill will, was to take away the cauſe, he ſwore unto them both, that he would beſtow me upon Theombres, and that he was well pleaſed with it: Lucindor was ready to bite off his fingers for anger, and paſſing through the chamber where I was, he went away without ſo much as bidding me good night; but as ſoon as he came to his chamber, he wrote me ſuch a Letter, as did preſently let me ſee his fury; but this did not afford me any means to remedy it: for indeed my Father did give me unto Theombres, and this Cavalier having married me, did carry me with him unto his houſe within eight dayes after. Yet during this abſence, the affections of Lucindor and Cerintes did not die; but were, as it were nouriſhed by my abſence: and I knew it to be ſo, becauſe Theombres dying, they began their addreſſes afreſh; and as if heaven would remove all obſtacles out of their way, I loſt a Father, ſoon after, a husband: yet not being able to reſolve how I ſhould demean my ſelf unto either, or both of them, I willingly conſented to take that courſe which we reſolved upon all together, which was to conſult with the Oracle in the Temple of Venus: whoſe anſwers, moſt equitable Judge, you have heard, together with the ſtories of our lives, the tranquility of which depends upon your doom.

After this, Florice was ſilent; and Phillis taking Ligdamon and Celidea, and asking Florice, whether there was any danger in calling Adamas and Alexis to councel, ſhe anſwered, that there was no particular prohibition to the contrary: ſo as the Druide and Celadon, being added unto Phillis, Celidea, and Ligdamon, they all ſevered themſelves a while from the reſt of the company, they all gave their ſeveral votes unto Phillis; and then they returned again, and ſitting down, ſhe uttered theſe words in an audible voice.

Since it hath pleaſed the gods that your differences ſhould be referred unto me, and ſince they have ordained that my Doom ſhall be an inviolable Law unto you, upon the grave deliberation and advice of thoſe whom I took to be my Aſſiſtants, I do judge, that all you three being almoſt equally obliged unto thoſe who have the honour to ſerve you, therefore it is of neceſſity, that the gods do further make it known, which of theſe Cavaliers are deſtinied to be your ſeveral and reſpective husbands. I do therefore ordain, that the diſciſſion of it ſhall be by lot, and that each of you, with each of your two Lovers, ſhall be blinded with an Napkin; and each of you ſhall marry him who firſt falls into her hands, without any permiſſion unto thoſe to whom deſtiny is averſe, to murmure either againſt me, or againſt heaven, whoſe will is as I have pronounced.

After this Phillis roſe up, and taking napkins, ſhe firſt blinded the eyes of Cercinea, and afterwards Clorian and Alcander; and carrying them into one of the corners in the gallery, ſhe gave two little keys unto Clorian, and two unto Alcander, to the end, that they making a noiſe with them, Cercinea might hear and know where to find them: After this, turning [...] about ſeveral times, and giving them a watch-word when they ſhould begin their walk: Cercinea at the other end of the gallery, ſet forward at the noiſe of the keys, and went blindfold whether her Genius did lead her: the firſt that ſhe met with was Alcander, who ſeeing himſelf more happy then his Rival, did embrace Cercinea ſo cloſe, that ſhe could not poſſibly eſcape out of his arms.

This controverſie thus decided, Phillis took the napkins, and putting them over the eyes of Palanice, Sileines, and Amilcar; ſhe obſerved the ſame ceremonies as before, until at laſt ſhe fell unto the lot of Sileines.

Florices turn was nex, and ſhe having a more particular inclination unto Lucindor, the gods favoured her deſires, and caſt him into her arms before Cerintes, at which ſhe was extreamly well ſatisfied. In the mean time Cerintes ſtill looked on, and Hylas having gotten Lucindors keyes out of his hands, he made a noiſe with them, as if Florice had not yet made her blind choiſe: at laſt, not to let him any longer run on in that vain and unprofitable queſt, he put himſelf into his arms and embraced him: Cerintes, who thought at the firſt, that he had Florice in his arms: O my faireſt Florice (ſaid he) now at the laſt you are mine for ever: Yes [Page] (ſaid Hylas) if it pleaſe Lucindor to p [...] with her: Cerintes, then finding his miſtake, wretched fellow (ſaid he unto Hylas) is it not enough to ſee me deprived of Florice, but I muſt be mocked at? why mocked? replied Hylas, I would have you know Cerintes, that you are extreamly obliged unto me, and that in taking me, you are more rich then you imagine.

Away, away, replied Cerintes, do not ſo extreamly diſoblige me with thy foolery: I proteſt (anſwered Hylas) I am in good ſerious earneſt: for if a Lover be tranſmigrated into the perſon loved; as Silvander affirms, then conſider who am I, that in putting my ſelf into thy arms, I have in lieu of one beauty, preſented thee with a hundred that have loved me: every one laughed at the rallery of Hylas, Cerintes only, Clorian, and Amilcar, ſeemed diſcontented, and reſolved to go the next morning after Sigiſmond, and ſo they did; Adamas with Ligdamon, bearing them company, as far as Marcelles.

Adamas had ſo ſhort a mornings walk, that he came to Marcelles long before either Amaſis or Galathea were awake; and therefore he went ſtraight unto the chamber of Lindamor, whom he found almoſt ready: for his love would not let him lie in bed ſo long as others: and there inquiring the cauſe of Galatheas ſo ſudden ſending for him, Lindamor anſwered him in theſe terms. The reaſon, reverend Father, why that Nymph did put you unto the trouble of coming, does equally concern both her and me, and for your full ſatisfaction, I will make a relation of it unto you: Know therefore Father, that as the ſtate ſtands with me, my life does abſolutely depend upon three perſons, and they are, Amaſis, Galathea, and your ſelf. Perhaps Amaſis may conſider my ſervices; and as ſoon as my intention it known unto her, ſhe will not deny me a happineſſe which hath already coſt me many a ſigh: Galathea is almoſt overcome, and if it may be ſpoken without vanity, ſhe has deſires which are entirely to my advantage: I want only your aſſiſtance in the buſineſſe, and that you will be pleaſed to mediate for me unto the Nymph, for none has a greater influence upon her then your ſelf, whoſe prudence is ſo well known unto her and all the world, that the charm only of your approbation, is enough to move her unto any thing: but Father, to the end you may know in what a deſparate condition I ſhall be, if my deſigne be not ſeconded with a happy ſucceſſe, anſwerable unto my deſires and hopes, I will make you a particular relation of my love, and other accidents of my life: provided you will be pleaſed to pardon a groſſe crime which I have committed, in ſo long concealing from you, an intereſt which cannot but prove very fatal unto me, with that aſſiſtance which you may afford unto me.

Upon this, the Cavalier deſired the Druide to ſit down, and began to prepare himſelf to make a long Narrative of all that had paſſed betwixt Galathea and him; but Adamas, who knew it perfectly already, by the relation of Leonide, prevented him and ſaid: Brave Lindamor, you do think me more ignorant of your affairs then I am; but to ſave you the labour of any relations, let me tell you, that I do know ſo many paſſ [...] [...]oncerning your love, as perhaps will make you wonder, when you hear me, [...] them to the very leaſt particular: and in teſtimony of what I ſay, was it not Lindamor who fought with Polemas, and having vanquiſhed him, did retire himſelf, and would not be known by any? Do you not remember the time, when in the habit of a Gardiner you preſented a hart unto Galathea, which ſhe found to be a living hart, in lieu of a dead one that ſhe expected? Did you not that very ſame night make many promiſes unto her? and did not ſhe vow, that ſhe would never deny her conſent unto any thing that you deſired? You ſee Lindamor, I know all that concerns you, and be not ſorry for it, for I do honour you ſo much, as I will make uſe of my knowledge, rather to ſerve, then to hurt you: I muſt tell you, therefore, that if ever you had any reaſon to hope for good fortune, it is now, juſt now, when all things contribute unto it; only let me adviſe you to carry your ſelf very diſcreetly, leſt if your paſſion ſhould make too great a noiſe, it might in ſome ſort offend Amaſis and Galathea.

Lindamor did hearken very attentively unto all the Druide had ſaid; and he preſently apprehended, that it could be none but Leonide that could be his informer; [Page] yet not willing to loſe any time in condemning her for it, he ſeemed to be very glad that he knew the truth of all, and afterwards returned him this anſwer: ſince Father you are not ignorant in any one accident of my life, and does know that if Galathea be denied me, I can never live contented, I do moſt heartily and humbly beſeech you to tell me, what courſe I ſhould take to obtain her. I know one ſingle word of perſwaſion from you, has more prevalency with Amaſis, then all that I can do; which to ſay truly, is not ſo conſiderable as to hope for ſo fair a recompence as that Nymph: therefore, dear Sir, I conjure you by all the effects that pity can produce in a ſoul capable of reſentment, to make the propoſition unto Amaſis, and repreſent unto her, that Galathea can never meet with one who will love her, honour her, and ſerve her, better then my ſelf.

Lindamor uttered theſe few words with ſo much paſſionate affection, that Adamas was much moved by them; and to give him a teſtimony of it: Generous Lindamor (ſaid he unto him) you ſhall ere long ſee how much I deſire you ſhould enjoy that contentment which you merit; and for the better effecting of it, I would adviſe you to acquaint Sigiſmond, Roſilion, and Godomar, with your deſign, and oblige them to break the motion unto the Nymph: probably ſhe will deny them nothing, and though ſhe had a mind to deny them, yet ſhe would not, until ſhe had communicated the matter unto me, which if ſhe ſhould, then ſhall I be ready to ſerve you, and not be wanting in my perſwaſions of her. Upon this, Lindamor took the Druides hand and kiſſed it, and promiſing to follow his advice very punctually, he roſe up to ſend and know whether Galathea was yet up; but Adamas, who had no mind to ſee her, left ſhe ſhould chide him for departing the day before without taking his leave: Sir (ſaid he unto Lindamor) if the Nymph Galathea have no other buſineſſe with me, you may give her an accompt of my voyage, and of the buſineſſe whereof we have diſcourſed: for my part, I do intend to return, for the Gheſts which I have at my houſe, do long for my return. As for your Gheſts (ſaid Lindamor and interrupted him) I believe ſhe is very deſirous to enquire of them, for ſhe was very ſorry that ſhe did not ſee them before they went. They, anſwered Adamas, do ſo little know how to behave themſelves, as they are excuſable, if they did not do thoſe complements as are belonging unto the Grandure of Amaſis and Galathea, but I hope you will make their excuſes, nor ſhould I put you upon it, did I not think that it does much concern you to have a ſpecial care that Amaſis does not know how I came upon your buſineſſe, leſt ſhe ſhould ſuſpect me, and think that I aim more at your particular contentment then her ſervice. Lindamor thought this conſideration ſo good, that he conſented unto all that Adamas deſired. Thus the Druide departed: and the firſt thing that came into his thoughts by the way, was the obſtinancy of Celadon, in ſhunning all occaſions which might make him known unto his Shepherdeſſe: yet not being able to imagine the cauſe, he reſolved, whatſoever came on't, not to ſuffer this deluſion to continue any longer.

In the mean time, the Shepherd was awake, and lying in the ſame chamber, with Aſtrea, Diana, and Phillis, he no ſooner opened his eyes, but he drew the curtain, and looked towards the bed where his Shepherdeſſe reſted; but Aſtrea who waked almoſt at the ſame time: I beſeech the gods (ſaid ſhe unto him) make this day as happy unto my fair Miſtreſſe, as ſhe can deſire, or I wiſh it- You need not wiſh it (ſaid Celadon) for it is in your power to make it as you pleaſe. O heavens! (ſaid the Shepherdeſſe) I ſwear, that if it be in my power, you ſhall never have an ill one: for I do ſo unexpreſſably well, that I will do any thing in the world to content you. I do proteſt, replied the ſuppoſed Druide, my affection unto you is ſuch, that I do devote my ſelf ſolely unto your contentment: the ſweeteſt day of all my life ſhall be bitter unto me, if it be not pleaſing unto you; and my bittereſt day ſhall be ſweet unto me, if it delight you. Miſtreſſe, replied Aſtrea, you do expreſſe your ſelf ſo affectionate unto me, that you will either ſwell me with joy, or make me ſuſpect that you do mock me: The Shepherd would have anſwered, but that Diana and Phillis waked upon their talking; and therefore he was ſilent to hearken unto Diana, who rubbing her eyes, and [Page] turning towards him, Madam (ſaid ſhe) I think Aſtrea and you, have done nothing but talk all the night; for when I fell aſleep the laſt night, I left you talking; and ſtill find you talking when I wake: I muſt confeſſe (anſwered Alexis) if that fair one could as well forbear ſleep, as I deſire to do, perhaps we had ſpent the whole night in diſcourſe. Truly (ſaid Aſtrea) I had no great diſpoſition unto ſleep; but fearing leſt I ſhould diſturb your reſt, I was the firſt that gave over talking. That conſideration, replied Alexis, ought not to have ſtopped your mouth: for I expect more reſt from your words, then from any ſleep: Well, well, replied the Shepherdeſſe, I hope one day we ſhall enjoy this ſweet reſt you talk off, if you will but haſten the accompliſhment of that promiſe which you have made unto me: Celadon was ready to reply when Phillis interrupted: O God (ſaid ſhe unto Aſtrea) why are you ſo haſty to be with that fair Druide and live in ſome place with her, where our preſence cannot divert you? As I live, were I in Dianas room, I would throw you out of bed, that you might go and take poſſeſſion of that place which you ſo much deſire. In ſaying ſo, ſhe began to thruſt Diana, and Diana Aſtrea, and ſo hard, that Aſtrea was thruſt more then half out of bed: Diana (cryed ſhe out) before you thruſt me out, you ſhould firſt have known whether my Miſtreſſe will receive me into her bed: The Law (anſwered Alexis) which forbids us to lie with any, is not ſo ſtrickt, but in caſes of neceſſity I may receive you: In ſaying ſo, ſhe opened her arms, and made a ſign as if ſhe ſhould come thither; but as ill luck was, the ſmock of Alexis being open before her breſt, did let appear the Ribband, in which was Aſtreas picture, and the ring which he tied unto it, when his deſpair made him caſt himſelf into the river Lignon: which Astrea perceiving, and remembring that the colour of the Ribband was very like unto that knot which Celadon took from her, ſhe began to change colour, and not being able to remove her eye from off that object. ſhe ſtood ſtill a long while and ſaid not a word. The Shepherd, who all the while expected her coming, did wonder at ſuch a ſudden alteration, and could not chuſe but ask the cauſe: to whom Astrea anſwered, I proteſt Miſtreſſe, I am ſo much raviſhed at that which you wear about your neck, that I cannot take my thought off an accident which had like to have coſt me my life. Celadon upon this looking down, and ſeeing thoſe dear pledges of his love and Aſtreas jealouſie to hang out of his ſhirt, which he had ſo carefully till then concealed; he was ready to fall into a ſwound: yet conceiving, that the beſt way to deceive her, was to ſet a good face upon the matter, he began to recollect himſelf and ſmile: Servant (ſaid he unto her) never let this which you have ſeen trouble you, for I will ſhew them unto you when you pleaſe, and freely tell you from whom I had them, upon condition you will aſſure me not to be jealous. In ſaying ſo, ſhe put the Ribband, as it ought to be, out of ſight, and Aſtrea in extream impatience, I were exceedingly to blame (ſaid ſhe) if I did not receive your offer, and ſatisfie my mind concerning what I have ſeen: upon this ſhe offered to go into Celadons bed, and when ſhe was in the midſt of the room going to him, ſhe heard ſome coming up the ſtairs and name her; and becauſe ſhe feared it might be ſome that came to viſit them, as Adamas, or or Leonide, ſhe returned as faſt as ſhe could, and went into her own bed, though Diana and Phillis would hardly receive her: immediatly after this, Leonide entred; and God knows, to the great contentment of Celadon, when he ſaw himſelf delivered from the perplexity, into which the curioſity of Aſtrea had put him.

But as great as his joy was, it was not comparable to the aſtoniſhment of Diana, when ſhe ſaw Leonide to be the uſher of Bellinde: yet that fair Shepherdeſſe diſſembling her diſpleaſure, which the coming of her mother cauſed, ſhe received their embraces with many teſtimonies of gladneſſe: Phillis and Aſtrea did the ſame; and whilſt Leonide went unto Celadons bed, and asked him how he had reſted. the Shepherd anſwered: The night (ſage Nymph) has been as kind unto me, as the cruelty of my deſtiny will permit, which is ſtill finding out new wayes to afflict me: Leonide, a little ſurprized at this, why (ſaid ſhe) what new accident has hapned ſince yeſterday? one ſo ſad, replied Celadon, that if you had not come in the very nick of time, I had been plunged into the moſt ſtrange perplexity [Page] that ever Lover was: then he related unto her, how the Knot, the Ring, and the Picture of Aſtrea appeared upon his breſt, and how Aſtrea ſpying them, did change colour: he told her alſo the intention which that Shepherdeſſe had of coming into his bed to be ſatiſfied in that doubt, which that object had put in her; and in fine, the perplexity he was in, to find out ſome invention that might deceive her. Leonide, after ſhe had heard all this; truly (ſaid ſhe) I am afraid the gods will puniſh you for the injury you do unto your Shepherdeſſe, in deferring the giving her the contentment of knowing you▪ but if you will follow my advice I ſhall councel you to defer it no longer, but this very day find out an opportunity of telling her that with your tongue, which your eyes have told her a thouſand times. had ſhe underſtood that language: May my miſeries be eternal (ſaid Celadon) if I do not moſt paſſionately deſire to know what happineſſe or what miſeries I am to expect: for you may well imagine, that in ſuch uncertainties as we are in, I am not him that ſuffers leaſt: Well (anſwered Leonide) I will talk with my uncle, and tell him how willing you are to ſubmit unto whatſoever he will direct: In the mean time I conceive it your beſt expedient, to put the Knot, the Picture, and the Ring, into my hands, to the end, that if Aſtrea do come and enquire after them, I ſhall be your lawful excuſe in denying her that contentment. Officious Leonide, anſwered Celadon, without any giving them unto you, I can tell her that you have them, and ſhall not lye, if I ſwear that you did deſire them of me, but pardon me that I dare nor part from them, no not for a minute: for ſuch would be my grief at ſuch a ſeparation, as it would be the hazard of my very life. Leonide, who knew ſhe ſhould never obtain them, did not importune him any longer; but having told him in what manner he ought to receive Bellinde, that Shepherd behaved himſelf ſo well, and did his complements ſo handſomly, that he would have deceived not only Bellinde, but all the world.

Adamas at the very ſame time returned from Marcelles, and met with Paris cloſe by his houſe, who came to meet him, and acquaint him with the coming of Bellinde: Paris giving him a particular accompt of his voyage, Adamas did bid him as heartily welcome home, as a ſon could expect from an indulgent Father. Belinde was immediatly acquainted with the return of the Druide, and therefore ſhe left all the fair ones to dreſſe themſelves, and went to acquit her ſelf of that reſpect which ſhe owed unto the affection and qualitie of Adamas. But the Shepherdeſſe Diana (for all her conſtraint) could not hide the diſpleaſure which the coming of her mother cauſed, knowing that her intention was to make up her marriage with Paris; ſo as at every pin which ſhe uſed in dreſſing her ſelf, a ſigh did ſecond it, at which Aſtrea wondering, and asking the reaſon, Diana anſwered, that the coming of her mother had ſwelled her with ſuch an exceſſe of joyes, that ſhe was tranſported with it, and her mind in ſuch a confuſion that ſhe ſeemed to be in that diſorder of ſpirit, more ſad then glad. Phillis, who heard her ſay ſo: I am afraid (ſaid ſhe) that the joyes of Silvander are not like unto yours; and that the return of Paris has given his ſoul ſuch a breakfaſt of joy, as will never be ſeen in his face: I believe (anſwered Liana) that it will be very indifferent unto him, or if he have any reſentment of it, it will be rather of joyes to ſee my mother, then ſorrows to ſee Paris. I know not what it will be, replied Phillis, but I would not have that contentment which I expect from the enjoyment of Licidas, ſhould be like unto that which Silvander will receive, when he hears the news of her coming: for Diana, I do know his humour and temper ſo well, as I dare ſwear, that he will not only be ſad, but even deſperate when he hears it; and as good a face as you do ſet upon the matter, you know him to have more judgement then to be ignorant, that her coming is to make up your marriage with Paris.

O heavens ſiſter (ſaid Diana with tears in her eyes) why do you ſay ſo? As ſhe ſaid ſo ſhe bluſh'd, afterwards added; and you know Silvander to be a man of ſo much judgement, you will alſo know, that he will not think it ſtrange I ſhould obey Belinde, and obſerve her will as a Law inviolable. I do not ſay (anſwered Phillis) that he will condemn your obedience; but I do ſay, that he will be extreamly afflicted at it, and that the ſorrows which he ſhall reſent, will be ſo violent, as perhaps will force him unto ſome deſperate courſe. Diana the ſhruging [Page] her ſhoulders, and lifting her eyes up to heaven, I wiſh the gods (ſaid ſhe) would give him what he deſerves, and which to make him happy I would give him, if it depended only upon me. This (ſaid Phillis) is a fine reward indeed: whilſt you beſtow all your great and particular favours upon another, poor Silvander muſt be put off only with a bare wiſh, as a recompence for all his ſervices: alas (ſaid Diana) what would you have me do for him, in this condition wherein I am, and wherein I cannot do anything for my ſelf. I dare not tell you, replied Phillis, what I would have you do; but I know what a woman of courage ought to do, and what I my ſelf would do were I in ſuch an extreamity. My ſweet companion, replied Diana, I know you to be ſo wiſe, that you would not tranſgreſſe againſt my duty, but would rather ſuffer, and never complain of any injuſtice done unto you. This is the reſolution which I have taken and will follow, what miſeries ſoever my Deſtinies prepare for me. Diana uttered theſe words after ſuch a manner, as Phillis and Aſtrea knew, they came from her heart: Beginning therefore to lament the lot of Silvander, they continued dreſſing themſelves, and when they were ready, they went down into the room where Adamas and Belinde were.

On the other ſide, Ligonias, who knew he could not do Sigiſmond a greater pleaſure, nor Amaſis better ſervice, then to carry out of Forreſts all the forces under his conduct, as ſoon as he could, he took long marches, and quartered them within the territories of the Burgundian King; the next day he got up betimes, and marched in ſuch ſpeed with them, that they all arrived in Lions at night. Ligonias went preſently, and caſt himſelf at the feet of Gondebaut; and gave him a very particular accompt of all paſſages relating to the defeat of Polemas. This King, extreamly offended at all theſe unhappy events, did turn all his anger againſt Sigiſmond, as the principal authour of Polemas his ruine: unto this muſt his jealouſie be added; for beginning to remember that that flight of Sigiſmond was not ſo much to relieve Godomar, as to give ſome teſtimonies of his love unto Dorinde, his anger turned almoſt into ſtark madneſſe: he ſtood a long while, and ſpoke not one word: At laſt, after five or ſix turns in the chamber, this diſobedience of Sigiſmonds, doth moſt infinitly diſpleaſe me (ſaid he) but let me loſe the quality of a King, if I do not ere long let him know, that he is no leſſe unworthy to live, then to bear the name of my ſon. Upon this he was ſilent again; and Ligonias thinking it not fit to ſay any thing in Sigiſmonds defence, till the ſtorm of his anger was over, he looked ſtill upon the ground, until he heard the King begin to ſpeak again. Pray Ligonias tell me (ſaid he) when Sigiſmond gave you commiſſion to bring back my troops, was that ungrateful perſon ſad or joyful at their departure? I believe Sir, anſwered Ligonias, that he was both: for Sir, your anger is a moſt ſad affliction to him, and I believe he is glad that Amaſis is delivered from thoſe mortal fears which your forces had infuſed into her: and as an argument of it, when I took my leave of him: farewel Ligonias (ſaid he unto me) carry back unto the King my Lord and father, thoſe men who deſerve to be imployed upon better occaſions; and becauſe I ſee him angry with my brother and me, beſeech him to pardon us, and tell him it would be much more juſt to receive his two ſons, as ſupporters of his Crown, then as the objects of his hatred and arms.

Ligonias delivered this meſſage in ſuch a mild and handſome manner, as did moſt ſenſibly melt the King into compaſſion; and as violent as his paſſion was, he could not forget, that thoſe whom he accuſed were ſuch as he gave being land education unto; yet having a kind of fear that Ligonias had invented what he had told him; I cannot believe (ſaid he) that any repentance can come from one in whom ingratitude is ſo predominate: If your Majeſty do doubt of what I tell you (replied Ligonias) I have that in my hands which will plead my juſtification: and conceiving that I could not meet with a better opportunity of preſenting a Letter which Sigiſmond had writ unto him, he took it out of his pocket and kneeling down, preſented it unto the King: Gondebaut changed colour two or three times, and was in a great diſpute between affection and anger; yet in fine, paternal love prevailing, he received the Letter, in which he found theſe words.

[Page]

SIGISMONDS Letter unto GONDEBAUT.

My Lord,

IF the heal of your anger againſt me, have not excluded out of your ſoul all manner of pity, I moſt humbly beſeech you to look upon theſe few lines, and to believe that they are not like me, altogether unworthy of your view. You will find in them abu [...]dance of grief that afflicts my ſad ſoul for diſpleaſing you; and if there be any hopes of a pardon, they will not want words expreſsing my repentance: The truth is, my ſorrows are much above my crime, but I hope and deſire, that both may be below, and leſſe then your compaſsion. I will not, my Lord, make any mention of my past actions: It is enough, and too much tha [...] they have diſpleaſed you, and it were a kind of a ſecond crime to offer a juſtification: I moſt humbly beſeech you only to conſider, that they are not of ſo black and horrid a die, as in juſtice to merit your hatred and my baniſhment; yet if if it be your dire doom, I will not murmure againſt any of your ordinances: but I dare be ſo bold as to requeſt, that the intereſt of Amaſis may not be mingled with my diſgrace. That great Nymph doth deſire from you a peace, which her innocence moſt juſtly merits: and if you ſhould refuſe this favour, it is to be feared you would have all the world to fight with, and become your own enemy: It is in your power to remedy all theſe diſorders in a moment; and by re [...]eiving the amity of this Princeſſe, you may boaſt that you have overcome her by the arms of your goodneſſe. This, Sir, is the laſt favour that I will ask of you, but will wait for the return of this Cavalier, who will tell me whether Godomar is to be as miſerable as my ſelf, if no pardon be to be hoped for from you, diſpair muſt then be the portion of them whom heaven had done a favour unto, if it had never given them life, ſince it is the worſt of fate to be thrown out of your ſervice and affection.

Whilſt Gondebaut read this Letter, Ligonias obſerved all his motions, as ſo well, that he conceived very good hopes in the ſucceſſe of his voyage. He ſaw the King pull out his handkerchief, and wipe his eyes two or three times, afterwards he heard him ſigh ſeveral times; and at laſt, His demands (ſaid he) are of ſuch conſequence, as I muſt think better upon them: to [...]morrow you ſhall know my anſwer. In ſaying ſo, he began to walk up and down the chamber again, and Ligonias would have left him, if Clotilda had not at the ſame time entred, unto whom Gondebaut, ſhewing the Letter of Sigiſmond, and Ligonias giving her a ſhort relation of his ſervice, ſhe ſeconded the requeſt of that Cavalier, and had ſuch a perſwaſive influence upon the King, as ſhe obtained from him at that very inſtant, all manner of advantageous promiſes towards Sigiſmond and Godomar.

The affairs of Amaſis and theſe Princes were in this condition, whilſt Adamas (as I told you before) was with Belinde, and entertaing her with all imaginable Carreſſes and welcome. He was then walking with her in the great chamber, where Alexis, Diana, Aſtrea, and Phillis, already were, and almoſt at the ſame time, Ceroinea, Doris, Florice, Palanice, Delphire, Doriſea, and others came alſo, all whom ſaluting Belinde, ſhe was even aſtoniſhed at their beauties, and handſome behaviour. Preſently after entred Paris, but with as much joy as Diaana was of repentance, for ever giving him leave to propound a marriage unto her mother.

Whilſt they were in the height of their complements, they ſaw come into the [Page] chamber a Shepherd, who at the firſt they knew not: his complexion was as pale as death it ſelf, his eyes ſhrunk into his head, upon which hardly a hair was to be ſeen; his cheeks lean, his looks languiſhing, and his feeble legs, which teſtified the weakneſſe of him that owned them: As ſoon as he entred, he did his humble reverence unto the Druide, and unto Belinde, who at the firſt gave him but a cold reception; but preſently after, Adamas looking more attentively upon him: O God (ſaid he and embraced him) I beſeech you are not you Adraſtes? how comes it to paſſe you are ſo ſoon returned, and ſo extreamly changed? At the name of Adrastes, all the Shepherdeſſes came about him; and Doris not imagining he would ever return without Palemon, ſhe began at the firſt to be much troubled, and to fear ſhe ſhould never ſee him again: following therefore the ſuggeſtion of her fears, ſhe approached unto him, and as ſoon as he had returned an anſwer unto the Druide, good Adrastes (ſaid ſhe unto him) what news of Palemon? The Shepherd then looking upon her with a kind of ſmile which was mixed with indifferency, better news of him, fair Doris (ſaid he) then you expect, if at the leaſt I may judge of your thoughts by the paleneſſe in your cheeks. You may indeed (anſwered ſhe) tell me better then I do expect; but if he be not returned with you, I am ſure it is impoſſible it ſhould be ſo good as I deſire. I wiſh you could enjoy that contentment, anſwered the Shepherd; but ſince heaven is yet pleaſed to deprive you of that happineſſe, all I can do for your ſatisfaction, is to give you an accompt of his actions and mine, ſince our departure from you, until the time of my departure from him. Upon this he retired a little, as having a deſire to talk with her in private: but Adamas, who perhaps was as full of curioſity as ſhe, he ſtayed him, and ſaid, that if the news which he was to relate unto Doris, was not of ſo great a ſecrecy, he would be glad to hear it; and the Shepherd, being well diſpoſed unto it, they all ſat down, and fixing his languiſhing looks upon Doris, he began his relation in this manner.

The Sequel of the Hiſtory of ADRASTES.

IF, fair Shepherdeſſe, the ſad accidents of my life were not already known unto all about the river Lignon, I ſhould think my ſelf obliged to keep my ſorrows ſecret: and as bitter as they have been, and great, yet are they leſſe then my ſilence; but ſince it hath pleaſed the gods to make my afflictions both in their beginnings and progreſſe, known and bewailed almoſt by all, I beſeech you take it not, if their end have the ſame fate that their beginning and continuation had, I do know, that rigour will condemn, as ceremonial, all the paſſions which I reſent; but when you ſhall know that in their very extremity they cannot diſpleaſe Palemon, it is credible you will be moved unto as much comgaſſion, as your virtue will permit. May I die, if my ambition ever reached any higher, and if I did not think my ſelf worthy of the worſt of torments, if I ſhould not meaſure my love according to your Devoire and my diſcretion. I tell you this, fair Doris, to the end you may know the ſtate of my ſoul, and may judge of your beauties power by the quality of my wound, of which I would never be cured, ſince the cauſe of it, which is the life of Palemon, is a thouſand times more dear unto me, then all the remedies that can be given me. But to the end you ſhould not think the affection I bear unto him has any artifice in it, which I would make any uſe of to engratiate my ſelf into your favour, I ſhall relate unto you ſome of my obligations unto him, that you may know how infinitly I am beholding unto his amity, for the favours which I have received from him.

Be pleaſed then to know Father (continued he and turned toward Adamas) that the day on which we departed, was the day in which all my contentments died: for I was ſo extreamly ſorry to be at ſuch a diſtance from Doris, that I did ever ſinc, not only loſe all my hopes, but alſo all delight or deſires in my life. I paſſed over the firſt dayes journey in ſuch a profound melancholly, that Palemon, who thought ſome other ſtrange misfortune had befallen me, did uſe all his beſt [Page] inventions to divert me: but when night came, and he ſaw that I would not eat any meat, this did exceedingly trouble him, and cauſed him to get me into a bed, that I might at the leaſt get ſome reſt: For his part he eat but a very ſlender ſupper; but Halladine, who minded nothing but his own preſervation, he did eat like a man that intended to live: and therefore he ſate longer at the table then Palemon, who came preſently into my chamber, where I was already in bed, he asked me how I did? I that was afraid to trouble him, and ſaw how ſadly he reſented my condition, I told him, that I was much better then I was the day before, and that faſting, with a nights reſt, would make me perfectly well again.

I ſwear unto you dear, Adraſtes, (ſaid he unto me) you cannot tell me better news: for I do verily believe, this journey will coſt me my life, if your diſeaſe ſhould encreaſe: I thanked him for being ſo ſenſible of my ſufferings, and beſeeched him not to encreaſe my trouble by his own, beſeeching him to go to bed betimes, becauſe we were to go away early the next morning: upon this, Halladine entred, who coming to my bed, and looking a little upon me, he gave us good night, and went to his own bed, where he ſlept till we waked in the morning. Palemon no ſooner ſaw him laid down, but he whiſpered me in the eare and ſaid; This is the happieſt man alive, all his care is to pleaſe a maſter that loves him: there is nothing that troubles his mind; and I do not think any thing in the world can diſturb him of one minutes reſt: Then (ſaid I unto my ſelf) alas, alas, Palemon, he is not ſo happy as thou art, who triumps over my Miſtreſſe who loves thee: afterwards I anſwered him aloud; 'tis true indeed, Halladine is happy as he deſerves, as a juſt recompence for his fidelity. Sometimes (ſaid Palemon the moſt faithful are not the moſt happy: No, no, ſaid I unto my ſelf, for if they were, Adraſtes ſhould be as happy as Palemon, for he is as faithful, and yet Doris is none of mine: afterwards I replied aloud, the fault may be in the ingratitude of the maſters, which is a thing whereof Halladine cannot accuſe Damon; for he has more judgement then not to acknowledge his ſervices according to their merits.

In ſuch diſcourſe as this, we ſpent near half an hour, after which he asked me, if he was not troubleſome unto me, to which I anſwered no, but was very glad of his company, and deſired that one bed might ſerve us both during all our journey: ſo undreſſing himſelf, he was no ſooner laid down, but he obſerved that I burned as hot as fire, for indeed I had already ſome ſymptomes of a feaver; and therefore laying one hand upon my breſt; O God Adraſtes (ſaid he unto me) how you burn? yes, anſwered I, my body is in a moſt extream heat, but ſaid I to my ſelf, this heat is nothing in compariſon of that heat which conſumes my ſoul; but (ſaid he) I am afraid, I ſhall be too troubleſome unto you, and perhaps if I did not lie with you, you would not be ſo hot but would reſt better. You cannot, replied I, make my diſeaſe worſe then it is, ſince (ſaid I in my ſelf) to do that, Palemon muſt either leave the world, or Doris muſt drive me out of it: he talked ſtill on, and I believe, would have talked on till it was day, if to be a little more free in my thoughts, I had not ſeemed as if I were aſleep, and did not for a while anſwer him: ſo as he thinking that I was diſpoſed to reſt, he left talking and fell aſleep. For my part, I ended the night as I begun it which was without ever cloſing an eye, or finding any eaſe amongſt thoſe fretting thoughts, which the happineſſe of Palemon, and misfortune of Adraſtes, infuſed into me: Then did I experimentally find, that of all diſeaſes there is none that hath ſo few remedies as love; but this experience did nothing elſe but feſter my wound, and the more, becauſe being out of all hopes ever to be cured, I never durſt ſo much as pretend unto, or look for any comfort. Whilſt I was even loſing my ſelf in my own fancies, Palemon waked very often, and becauſe he laid his hand every time upon my breſt near my heart, cruel friend (ſaid I in my ſelf) doft thou doubt whether or no I am ſtill alive, after thou haſt taken Doris from me, who is the very ſoul and life of my heart? afterwards continuing, and faigning ſtill to be aſleep: ſilly man (ſaid I) to ſeek for my heart in this bed, as if that beauty who had charms able to raviſh it from me, had not charms alſo to preſerve and keep it.

[Page]I was ſtill broad awake, and turmoiled with theſe fretting thoughts when the night began to vaniſh, and Palemon wakening took notice that day began to dawn: At the firſt▪ he durſt not ſpeak for fear of diſturbing me: which I perceiving, I ſeemed to awake alſo; and therefore be caſting his eyes upon me, though he could not perfectly ſee me, he told me, that I was very reſtleſſe all the night long; to which I anſwered, that indeed the night was not very delightfull unto me, but that it had enabled me to continue on our intended deſign; In ſaying ſo, I got up, and Palemon doing the like, we wakned Halladine, and departed before the ſun was up: This fit of a feavour which I had, beſides my natural complexion, which was never good, did make me look ſo pale and meager, that Palemon could not chuſe but tell me, that it was my beſt courſe to return, and that our journey being long, I was never able to go through with it, ſince I found my ſelf ſo ill the firſt day; but I, who deſired no better Fate then to die by the way, did ſo contend with him, that he was forced to yield unto my deſires of going forward, and ſo we came to Lions: unto which we were no ſooner come, but Palemon knowing that it could not be a ſingle fit of a feavour that could cauſe in me ſuch a profound melancholly, he took me aſide in a chamber, and ſitting both down upon a bed, he uſed this diſcourſe which I ſhall relate unto you, that I may not omit the leaſt circumſtance relating unto the intereſt of Doris and me: and ſo he began it thus.

Dear Adrastes (ſaid he unto me) I beſeech you pardon me, if I be ſo inquiſitive as to ask you what the cauſe is, which makes you ſo extreamly melancholly and ſad? I know very well that you are ſomething indiſpoſed, and that travel may ſomething trouble you; but I cannot believe it poſſible all this can cauſe you to be of ſo ſullen a temper. If any memory of the laſt ſad accident which hapned unto you be the cauſe of it, and if that thought do nouriſh a ſorrow in it, for not being alwayes in your perfect ſenſes, I beſeech you conſider, that ſuch a ſorrow ought not to trouble your mind, by reaſon of your joyes at your perfect recovery: beſides, that were to grumble at the will of heaven, which was pleaſed to deprive you of your reaſon only for a time, to render you afterwards a more eminent meaſure of it: I heartily beſeech you my deareſt Adraſtes, to tell me what it is which troubles you: I do conjure you unto it, by the torments which I ſuffer to ſee you ſo ſadly afflicted; by the affection which I bear unto you, and which I deſire you ſhould bear unto me, I beſeech you do not hide the cauſe of it from me, and to believe, that if it do lie within the compaſſe of my power to apply any remedy unto it, I will not ſpare my own contentment, or my life, to procure it. This was the firſt diſcourſe that Palemon and I had of it, unto which I anſwered in theſe terms.

It does grieve me extreamly, my dear Palemon, to ſee that my malady is ſo contageous, and that my ſorrows ſhould be any cauſe of yours: I wiſh for your own contentment, that you had leſſe compaſſion of me, and wiſh for my own ſake, that I were leſſe ſenſible then I am; but ſince you your ſelf do confeſſe it extream imprudence to grumble at the will and pleaſure of heaven, I think that you are no leſſe to blame in taking ſo much pains to know my diſeaſe, then I ſhould be, did I hope ever to be cured of it: Therefore, dear Palemon, I do moſt heartily beſeech and conjure you, even by that which you love beſt, to ceaſe all this improfitable care which you take for my preſervation, and not to mingle my bitter ſorrows with thoſe contentments which heaven does give you. I ſpoke this with ſuch an accent, that Palemon was moved to drop ſome tears: in fine, embracing me, my dear Adraſtes (ſaid he unto me) why will you ſtill offer to conceal that, which pale looks do force you to tell me: if it be becauſe you know me unable to remedy your miſery, do not diſcover it unto me, as unto a Phyſician, from whom you expect ſome remedies; but tell them unto me, as unto a friend, who will be ready to leſſen your pain by partaking of it with you: I anſwered, that the argument which he uſed to induce me unto it, was the only thing which reſtrained me, ſince I loved his contentment ſo much, as I would never conſent that the relation of my miſeries ſhould ever make him a ſharer in them. But in concluſion, Palemon was fully reſolved to know the cauſe of my affliction, or [Page] elſe never to let me reſt in quietneſſe: Adraſtes (ſaid he unto me) or rather my brother, for I will never ſuffer you to call me otherwiſe, I do once more conjure you, even by my affection, and by the love that you hear unto Doris, to eaſe my mind of that impatiency which is cauſed by your ſilent▪ reſervedneſſe; and to believe, that if any man living can give you any comfort in your miſery, I will rather die then ſuffer any other but my ſelf to do you that good office. I muſt needs confeſſe, Father, that at the name of Doris all my blood did riſe, and now thinking it a crime againſt her not to ſatisfie the deſires of Palemon, being conjured unto it by her name: Dear Palemon (replied I) you have ſuch a commanding influence over me, that you may obtain any thing in my power; and you not uſe any other aſſeverations by your command, and therefore I will no longer defer the ſatisfaction of your deſires; for I know that it were a crime puniſhable to oppoſe whatſoever you deſire. Let me tell you therefore in the firſt place, that I do moſt gladly accept of that alliance which you offer unto me; and next, I do moſt ingeniouſly confeſſe, that the very ſame thing by which you have conjured me to diſcover my grief unto you, is the only thing which is the cauſe of my griefs: Do not wonder, dear brother, to hear me ſay, that though I do love Doris, yet I love Palemon too; and that though my affection unto her be never ſo great, yet it is not able to make me forget thoſe reſpects which I do ow unto you.

I would it had pleaſed God (continued I) that the firſt day my eye ever ſaw her, had been the laſt of my life, as it was of all my happineſſe and tranquillity: then ſhould I have avoided a thouſand deaths by ſuffering one, and ſhould not, as now I do, be forced to nouriſh a flame, which burns, but does not conſume me: Believe it Palemon, the arrow that firſt wounded me, was ſhot from the fair eyes of Doris; but it was ſhot by the hand of a God, which did communicate part of his own Nature into it, and made my wound immortal: and therefore it is, that though I do deſpair of any cure, yet muſt I needs love the hand that gave me the blow, and do know, that it is much eaſier to ceaſe living, then not to love that dear cauſe.

Fair Doris (continued Adraſtes and turned towards her) your dear Palemon heard all this without any interruption, and without taking his eyes off mine; and when I ſaw him ſtill look and not ſay a word, I perceive (ſaid I upon a ſudden) that my love, as much tempered as it is with diſcretion, does make an impreſſion in you, and that you cannot endure the continuation of it without very great impatience; and therefore, to ſtop your jealouſie and my own torments both at once, it is moſt juſt I do ruine my ſelf, and betimes rid you of a man, whoſe preſence will be alwayes a heart-burning unto you. Upon this, I leaped off the bed where I ſat, and ran to take my ſword which lay upon the table, my intention being to go out of the houſe, and afterwards to end my ſad dayes in ſome ſolitary place, where the Sun ſhould never daign to look upon me: But Palemon, who ſaw me in ſuch a fury, and feared leſt I ſhould do my ſelf ſome harm, he fell upon me, and took my ſword out of my hands, I making no great reſiſtance, for I was ſo very weak, as I was hardly able to ſuſtain my ſelf. He began preſently to chide me for my raſhneſſe, and uſed ſuch handſome arguments, as he qualified my mind unto his own will; and as I was ſtill hinting unto him, how impoſſible it was my affection unto Doris ſhould not diſpleaſe him: that, brother (ſaid he unto me) were indeed very true, if I did not very well know her virtue and diſcretion. But on the contrary, I do deſire that you ſhould love her, and to aſſure your ſelf that your affection ſhall never trouble me. Upon this, he took me about the neck: Come, come (ſaid he) love her ſtill, perhaps heaven will have pity upon you, and will one day permit you to poſſeſſe that place, which I confeſſe I have in a manner tyrannically uſurped from you: I wiſh to heaven it were now in my power to transfer her unto you; if it were, I ſwear the condition wherein you are, and have been for her ſake, does move me unto ſo much pity, that ſhe ſhould be the wife of Adraſtes, and the ſiſter of Palemon. As he ſaid ſo he embraced me moſt kindly, and bedewing my cheeks with his tears: Not but deareſt brother (continued he) my love unto her is infinitly [Page] beyond all my expreſſions; but I muſt confeſſe, that my compaſſion of you is not of a leſſe degree.

I ſtood a while without returning any anſwer but in ſighs; at the laſt ſeeing that he ſaid nothing unto me, I were extreamly ungrateful, replied I, if I did not the ſame thing for you which you would do for me. Therefore, Palemon, live for ever, unto Doris may you be happy, in the enjoyment of her many years, and as long as I ſhall my misfortunes; and be aſſured of this, that ſhe ſhall be the ſiſter of Adraſtes, as long as ſhe ſhall be the wife of Palemon. Upon this, I graſped him in my arms a long while; at laſt we parted, for ſuch a coldneſſe ſeized upon me at the ſame time, that without his aſſiſtance, I could not get my ſelf to bed. At the firſt, Palemon did not know my diſeaſe; but when he ſaw me vomit up abundance of green and yellow water, he conceived that a fit of my feaver had ſeized upon me: He ſent preſently for a Phyſician, who was no ſooner entred into the chamber; but he ſate down in a chair by my bed ſide, where after two or three coughs, and a ſuperſilious ſpit, he took my arm and felt my pulſe; then began to conſider upon the quality of my diſeaſe. Preſently after, he asked me whether or no, I had been exceſſive in any thing; to which I innocently anſwered, that I had never been exceſſive in any thing but love; but he who put a wrong conſtruction upon my meaning: that (ſaid he unto me) is very dangerous, eſpecially at this time, now the canicular dayes approach: Afterwards, coughing two or three times again, I obſerved that Palemon took him aſide, and as I underſtood afterwards, did infuſe a better opinion of me into him then he bad conceived, and gave him a particular exact accompt of all the accidents that had hapned unto me; after the Phyſician was better inſtructed, he came unto me: Well, well Sir, ſaid he, take courage, we will not preſcribe you any thing until to morrow. when we have ſeen the ſtate of your diſeaſe: mean time, eat but little, nay nothing till your fit be paſt, or at leaſt paſt the violence of it: Palemon promiſed to be very careful in ſeeing his directions obſerved, and waited upon him down the ſtairs. Halladine in the interime, came to my beds ſide, and began to uſe ſome arguments of diſſwading me from continuing the journey, when Palemon preſently returned, who joyning his arguments and entreaties unto Halladines, did conjure me not to think any more of keeping them company; not (ſaid he) that I do intend to leave you, for if your diſeaſe continue, I will not go away until you be perfectly recovered; but the reaſon why I diſſwade you, is becauſe I ſee you altogether unable to perform ſo long a journey without extream prejudice to your ſelf. Halladine, who heard Palemon ſay that he would not depart untill I was perfectly recovered; but Palemon (ſaid he unto him) do you not conſider, that whilſt we ſtay for the recovery of Adraſtes, we ſhall loſe the opportunity of our imbarkment, we muſt of neceeſſity take the time when it is, and not carry till a tempeſtuous reaſon hinder us from executing our intended deſigne. I knew he ſaid truly, and therefore told Palemon, that the next morning we might go in a boat unto the Town of the Maſſilians, and when we were there, I might take ſea or return, as I found my ſelf in a condition; they approved of my propoſition; but to be ſhort, I was not able to go any further: for my feaver continued, and the Phyſician, who viſited me the next morning, aſſured me, that without extream danger of my life, I muſt not take the water; but that it was far better for me to ſtay there, where I might be accomodated with all things requiſite and pertinent to my diſeaſe: it was therefore determined amongſt us, that I ſhould ſtay at Lions; and becauſe Palemon and Halladine could not any longer defer their departure, and my feaver grew worſe and worſe, Palemon came unto my bed ſide, and with tears in his eyes, uſed this language. Now my dear Adraſtes I am ready to depart, or rather ready to die; for I cannot call our ſeparation a life, eſpecially, ſince I muſt leave you in ſo ſad a condition; but I beſeech you conſider, that were I not by oath obliged unto this voyage, nothing in the world could make me undertake it: I call the gods to witneſſe how ſorry I am to leave you, and may they puniſh me to eternity, if it be not be ſoreſt diſpleaſure I ever received: could I deviſe any pretence to excuſe my ſelf from my oath concerning Celidea, I would make uſe of it; but certainly there is no evaſion, [Page] and doubtleſſe, heaven would puniſh either you, or me, or both, ſhould I perjure my ſelf: you ſee then, dear brother, how impoſſible it is to avoid this departure, and how I am obliged to the performance of my promiſe, and I hope you will not condemn me for it, though I leave you in a condition that requires the aſſiſtance of all your friends.

Palemon uſed theſe expreſſions, with ſuch a deep reſentment of my condition, as I knew he loved me; and therefore turning my languiſhing eyes towards him, and putting one of my hands out of bed, I took his, and graſping it as hard as I could, go dear Palemon (ſaid I unto him) and endeavour the cure of Celidea: continue on your journey without being troubled at me: for I know I cannot ſurvive our ſeparation one day; and therefore I conjure you to bid me your laſt adieu, and receive this kiſſe, as the laſt teſtimony of my affection. O Heavens, dear Adraſtes (ſaid he unto me) why will you blaſt me to death with ſuch ſad news; have you not courage enough to overcome the violence of a feaver, which will laſt no longer then you harbour ſome ill humour in your body to nouriſh it? Though I had the means to cure it, anſwered I, yet I have no will unto it, for I am ſo extreamly weary of living, that a doom of death is the moſt welcome news unto me.

But, Father, why ſhould I trouble you any longer with a tedious relation, it is ſufficient Doris knows, how Palemon perſwaded me ſo far, as to promiſe him two things: The firſt, that I would do all I could for the recovery of my health; and the other, that as ſoon as I was recovered, I would return unto our flocks, and give Doris a Letter which he left with me. Thus Halladine and he, after a thouſand embraces, ſighs, tears, and adieus, did take ſea; and left me in the hands of a Phyſician, who ſince their departure, never left me, unleſſe when upon extream neceſſity, he went to ſee ſome other ſick perſon. My feavor continued above a fortnight, after which, it was not ſo violent; and though I ſtood not in need of any more Phyſick, yet my Phyſician ſaw me every day, until I was perfectly recovered, and in a condition to return back: every time he came to viſit me, he brought me ſome news; it was he that firſt told me of the ſiege of Marcelles, and of the flight of Sigiſmond; by him I underſtood that Gondebaut had ſent an army unto Polemas, which troubled me ſo much, that had I been able to travel, I had gone then unto Sigiſmond, who was then in Vienna, and as they ſaid, raiſing an Army to relieve Godomar his brother. The laſt time he took the pains to ſee me, he told me that the ſiege was raiſed, and that Lindamor had killed Polemas; at which I was ſo exceedingly rejoyced, as I believe it did perfectly recover me. And indeed, after I had taken my leave of my Phyſician, and thanked him for his particular care of me, I went from Lions, and by the way found all his relations true, for I met a party of thoſe Souldiers which Gondebaut had ſent againſt Amaſis.

After this, Adraſtes held his peace, and preſented unto Doris that Letter which Palemon ſent unto her, which ſhe opening, found inſerted theſe words.

PALEMONS Letter unto DORIS.

THe concernment which I have in the preſervation of Adraſtes, moves me to uſe all manner of remedies, that are conducible to this cure. And becauſe I know that your affection is the beſt I can imploy; you must, dear Doris, love him, ſince he does deſerve it, and ſince I would have it ſo: your virtue keeps me from preſcribing any limits unto this love: yet, leſt under pretence of honour, you ſhould treat him leſſe kindly then I deſire, I would have your amity to him, no leſs then unto a brother: Prepare your ſelf therefore to give me this contentment: and conſider that in ſo doing, you will preſerve two who ought to be moſt dear unto you: I mean, the life of Adraſtes, and the contentment of Palemon.

[Page]She had no ſooner read this Letter, but he changed colour, which the Druide perceiving: fair Doris (ſaid he) why do you bluſh, certainly there is ſomething in that Letter which nearly concerns you: Nothing of ſuch near concernment, anſwered ſhe, which I ſhall not moſt willingly ſhew unto you: if I did bluſh, it was at the deſire of Palemon, who commands me to love Adraſtes, as if I could without a crime have any favourable inclination unto any whoſoever: Adamas then taking the Letter and reading it: I proteſt, replied he, the thing he deſires is ſo juſt, that you are much to blame if you deny it unto him: and for my part, I do adviſe you to give him that contentment which he deſires, ſince he ſeems to be ſo much concerned in the life of Adraſtes, that perhaps he would love you leſſe, if you ſhould ſuffer him to die.

Theſe words, together with that eſteem which Doris had of Adraſtes, had ſuch an influence upon her humour, that ſhe permitted him to love her as his ſiſter, promiſing him to value him in the degree of a brother. Upon this, Adraſtes roſe up to kiſſe her hand, by way of thanks, for that favour; but he was prevented by the coming in of a very fair Shepherdeſſe, who at the ſame time came into the room, took him about the neck and kiſſed him. This ſalute did a little ſurprize him; and the more, becauſe he knew not who it was that ſeemed ſo kind unto him: ſuppoſing then that ſhe had miſtaken him for another, he recoiled two or three paces, whilſt his amazment would not permit him to ſpeak a word; but the Shepherdeſſe following him: Is it poſſible Adraſtes (ſaid ſhe unto him) that you ſhould have done me ſo great favour and yet not know me. Adamas did think he knew the voice; yet thinking it ſo improbable it ſhould be her whom he thought upon, he looked upon her very attentively: Adraſtes then, he ſhrugged his ſhoulders; fair Shepherdeſſe (ſaid he unto her) I beſeech you do not wonder, that I ſhould not know you: for I have been ſo long ignorant of my ſelf, as I am partly pardonable, if I do not remember that ever I had the honour to ſee you. Yes, replied ſhe, you have ſeen me in Marcelles, and upon the banks of Lignon; but though you have forgotten me, yet perhaps Aſtrea, and Diana, will remember me: In ſaying ſo, ſhe went unto them, who received her very civilly, but with as much amazment as Adraſtes: at which this unknown Shepherdeſſe, ſmiling, O heavens (cryed ſhe out) was ever the like known? Is it poſſible you ſhould all, ſince this very morning, forget Celidea? Upon that name, all the Shepherdeſſes began to look earneſtly upon her, and upon one another: At laſt, remembring that Palemon and Halladine were gone about her cure; and calling to mind the features of her face before ſhe ſpoiled it; they knew her, and rejoyced with her, for the recovery of her former beauty: It was long before they did any thing elſe but embrace each other; whilſt Adamas made an exact relation unto Belinde of the laſt accident which befel this fair Shepherdeſſe; and at laſt, going to her, fair Celidea (ſaid he unto her) ſhall we not know in what manner you have been cured: for the remedy had ſuch a ſudden operation, as I cannot chuſe but wonder at it, eſpecially when I conſider, that though you were yeſterday as much disfigured as ever, yet this day you are as fair and handſome as ever you were before: Father, anſwered the Shepherdeſſe, with a countenance that ſpoke her contentment: I cannot poſſibly tell you how it was done, for truly I my ſelf do not know further then this, that this morning, after Thamires was gone out of the chamber to walk with Silvander and the reſt of the Shepherds, I aroſe out of my bed, and ſitting before my glaſſe dreſſing my ſelf, I obſerved within a quarter of an hour, that I did not look ſo ugly as ordinarily I did: and ſeeing that every minute my complexion came more and more into my cheeks, and that my ſcratches healed very faſt; I did imagine, that this might happily be an effect of thoſe good hopes which Damon made me conceive. I ſate thus the ſpace of an hour, and every time I caſt my eye upon my glaſſe I found ſome change in my ſelf. In fine, ſeeing my ſelf in a better condition then ever I was before, and thinking it a moſt arrogant preſumption if I ſhould expect to be better, ſince I had already obtained more then ever I hoped for, I finiſhed the dreſſing of my ſelf, and going down the ſtairs, I no ſooner heard that Adraſtes was returned, but being even raviſhed with joy to ſee my ſelf ſo handſome, I could not chuſe but come [Page] and Carreſſe him by way of gratitude, for the benefit which I had received, whereof he was partly the cauſe.

Thus Celidea related all that ſhe knew concerning her cure, whilſt Adraſtes was talking with Doris: Deareſt ſiſter (ſaid he unto her) you need not now enquire any further concerning Palemons journey: the face of Celidea tells you, that hitherto it hath been proſperous, and that all we have to do, is to wiſh him a ſafe return. Truly (ſaid ſhe) there is a great probability in what you ſay: yet for all that I cannot chuſe but be full of faint fears, becauſe he is to return by ſea, which as they ſay, is a moſt cruel and mercileſſe element. Doubtleſſe, replied Adraſtes, Fortune will look upon with a ſmiling eye, and will never ſuffer him to feel the effects of her inconſtancy, the glory that he has to enjoy you, is a moſt evident argument of it. In ſaying ſo, he ſighed very loud: which Doris obſerving, and doubting that his ſighs were ſparks of the fire which he entertained in his ſoul, ſhe was in ſome ſort moved not unto love but pity. Wondering therefore to ſee his paſſion ſhould ſurvive his hopes, ſhe was once in a mind to adviſe him to place his affection upon ſome, from whom he might expect more recompence; but conceiving, that this perhaps might more open his wound and feſter it, ſhe choſe rather not to mention it, but leave it unto the diſpoſition of time, which often proves the beſt remedy againſt ſuch diſeaſes: ſo ſhe left off that diſcourſe, and making a ſign unto the Shepherd, that ſhe deſired to hear what Adamas ſaid concerning Celidea, he leaned his eare that way, and heard the Druide ſpeak in this manner.

It is to be thought that Thamires will not be a little joyed to ſee you in this condition, ſince he was ſuch a paſſionate deſirer of it. I believe Father (anwered Celidea) that his joy will not be a little at it; but I believe alſo, that it will not laſt long, ſince that which is the cauſe of it, is but a glance, a flaſh, called beauty, and cannot continue in me long, becauſe it is a tribute which we do ow, and muſt pay, unto a few years, which will be ſure to imprint wrinkles upon the faireſt cheek. However it be, replied Adamas I ſhall ere long ſee him enjoy that contentment; and ſince he knows nothing yet of your cure, I would adviſe to deceive him a little.

Th [...]s was no ſooner conſented unto, but Thamires entred with Alcander, Sileines, Lucindor, Calidon, Licidas, Thomantes, Hylas, and ſome others. As ſoon as they came into the room, they ſaluted Belinde; but Adamas took Thamires by the hand, carried him to Celidea, and made him believe, that it was her ſiſter whom Belinde brought with her. Thamires was the more apt to believe it, becauſe indeed Celidea had a ſiſter, and becauſe he found in her face the very ſame features which formerly he adored in his Miſtreſſe. He went therefore unto her, and after a hundred thouſand welcomes, he asked her whether ſhe had▪ yet ſeen Celidea. This fair Shepherdeſſe could not chuſe but ſmile at this, and was upon the point to ſpeak; but the Druide, fearing left he ſhould know her voice, he interpoſed, and told him, that truly ſhe had ſeen her, but ſtayed not long with her, becauſe ſhe was not well, and therefore left her to her reſt. This did much trouble Thamires, in ſo much, as leaving the company, he went into the chamber where he thought Celidea was, The firſt thing he did when he came at the door, was to hearken whether he could hear her complain; but hearing nothing, he went to the bed whoſe curtains were all cloſe; and hardly daring to breath, leſt he ſhould make too much noiſe; he endeavoured to make it little lighter, that he might ſee her face.

Adamas, in the mean time, who followed him held Celidea by the hand, and ſeeing Thamires ſo buſie, he could not chuſe but laugh: which the Shepherd perceiving; you laugh, perhaps (ſaid he) to ſee me look for Celidea, whom you have hid in ſome other place. Hide her (ſaid the Druide) no, I do bring her unto you in a better condition then ever ſhe was. Thamires was amazed at this, and could not underſtand his meaning; but Celidea taking him about the neck and kiſſing him; what Thamires (ſaid ſhe unto him) do you make ſo little accompt of the preſent that is brought you, that you will not ſo much as thank the bringer? To what purpoſe were you ſo careful to ſee me in my firſt beauty, ſince [Page] now it is is brought unto you, you will not ſo much as know it? This voice did perfectly undeceive Thamires; and taking her in his arms, O Damon (ſaid he) how infinitly am I obliged unto thee for this favour? In ſaying ſo, he began a new to kiſſe her, ſometime her mouth, ſometimes her cheeks, and ſometimes her eyes; and probably, he had longer continued the expreſſions of his love and contentment, had he not though himſelf obliged alſo to thank the Druide, who thought it fit, that before the day was done, he ſhould go unto Marcelles to give thanks unto Damon, and render him an accompt of Celideas cure.

Thamires prepared himſelf for that journey; and Adamas, not knowing what was become of Silvander, asked aloud how he did; and Hylas taking upon him to ſpeak for all the Shepherds, did anſwer, that he left him in the company of Tircis, and that as he thought, they were diſcourſing upon ſome buſineſſe of great importance: The Druide asked whether he knew the ſubject of their diſcourſe, and Hylas in a ſmiling manner anſwered: Father (ſaid he) I do not certainly know the ſubject, but probably their diſcourſe harps upon the old melancholly ſtring; and Silvander, who as they ſay can Philoſophize upon the ribs of a Gnat, or the beard of a Mandrake, is, perhaps, perſwading ſomething which the other cannot eaſily vnderſtand.

Belinde was well pleaſed to hear him talk in that manner; for ſhe had heard tell of his humours, and therefore to make him the freer in his diſcourſe, ſhe addreſſed her ſelf unto him, and ſaid, that ſhe had formerly heard of all the paſſages in the love of Tircis and Cleon; but ſhe admired at nothing ſo much, as at the paſſionate humour of that Shepherd in ſtill doting upon the cold aſhes of his dead Miſtreſſe.

Sage Belinde (anſwered Hylas) were that fine judge here who condemned Laonice, he would by his Sophiſtry make you believe, that he ſhould ſin extreamly againſt the Laws of Love, if he did keep that affection inviolable, but this Leſſon he did not learn in my ſchool: It is a moſt groſſe and abſurd ignorance, and the worſe, becauſe it has no ground, and becauſe there is no Law which commands us to love that which is not; but this conſtancy which he ſo much cries up, and would fain make a goddeſſe, and erect altars unto it, is that which makes him maintain all theſe fond opinions, and infect this Province with a doctrine, which ought to be condemned by all thoſe that love liberty and quietneſſe. I wiſh he were here (replied Belinde) for beſides the eſteem I have of his merit, I would gladly know what he would anſwer unto your diſcourſe of him. Madam (ſaid Hylas) were he here, Lignon would ſooner leave running then his tongue; and the devil on it is, beſides his moſt pernicious doctrine in matter of Love, he can ſo gloſſe over his arguments with fluent eloquence, as almoſt all are charmed with it.

With ſuch diſcourſe as this, Adamas, Belinde, and the reſt, paſſed away the time, until dinner was ready: whilſt Silvander, who was indeed walking with Tircis, and uſing all the arguments he could poſſibly device to divert that ſad Shepherd from his intention of leaving Forreſt; but all his arguments and reaſons would not do: for this poor deſolate man was weary of having ſo many witneſſes of his melancholly, and was▪ fixed to his reſolution, imagining that now the banks of Lignon were likely to have too many delightful objects, to ſute with his ſad temper; and therefore, as ſoon as he met Silvander in a place convenient for his diſcourſe, he ſaid thus unto him.

It is needleſſe for me, ſage Silvander, to tell you the ſubject of my affliction, becauſe you do already know a great part of it; and therefore I will only acquaint you with my deſign of ſeeking out my beſt conveniency, to render what I ow unto the memory of my dear Cleon. You know, however, ſince the judgement which you pronounced in my favour, againſt the importunities of Laonice, I have been perſecuted by her, until I heard from her own mouth, the Treaſon which by way of revenge ſhe intended to uſe againſt you, and againſt Phillis; and then I began to be ſo extreamly incenſed againſt her, as immediately upon it ſhe forſook Forreſts. And certainly it was well ſhe did, for I verily believe, I ſhould have tranſgreſſed what I ow unto her ſex. to have done her ſome ſignal diſpleaſure. Now [Page] being, rid of this troubleſome woman, who I hated as I doe a divil, and deſiring never to meet with her again, I am reſolved to retire my ſelf into ſome ſolitary place, where none can come to interrupt my meditations, nor divert mee from expreſſing my fidelity unto my dear Cleon. I muſt confeſs my ſelf aſhamed to depart with out bidding my laſt adieu unto Adamas, and the reſt of the ſhephards of my acquaintance; But I hope, dear Silvander that you will excuſe mee to them, and move them rather to pitty my misfortunes, then to bee angry with me for my faults: Upon this Tircis held his peace, and Silvander having obſerved what he ſaid concerning the treaſon of Laonice, he beſeeched him for a relation of it: which Tircis did; And Silvander admiring at the artifice which ſhe had invented to revenge her ſelf, he learned alſo at the ſame time what was the cauſe of Dianas anger, which Phillis had ſo ſubtily diſſembled. This ſign of jealouſie in his Miſtreſs, was unto him a main argument of her affection: And though this contentment was enough to take up all his thoughts, yet he did put Tircis in mind of the little reaſon that he had to abſent himſelf from a place where every one loved him, and to go and live in a deſart, where will beaſts were ready every minute to devoure him.

But the poor dejected man in leiu of being moved by his reaſons; The cruelty of thoſe beaſts (anſwered he) cannot torment me ſo much, as that vaſt number of cares which continually afflicts me: ſuch is my deſpaire as it makes me love any thing that is likely to advance my end; and I wiſh with all my heart, I might without offence doe the ſame office my ſelf. Thou ſhould'ſt then know Cleon, how little value I doe ſet upon my blood; and thou ſhouldeſt ſee how ſoon I would preſent thee with the ſoul of Tircis which languiſheth in a torment ten thouſand times worſe then any death, in ſtaying untill I ſee thee, and have the honour to enjoy the heaven of thy imbraces with out diſturbance. In ſaying ſo, his eyes which he lifted up towards heaven, began to flow with tears; at which Silvander was ſo much moved, as he was not able to reſtrain his, and whilſt he ſtopped the courſe of them with his handkerchief he thought upon the conſtancy of Tircis, and afterwards making reflections upon himſelf, he conſidered in what a ſad condition he ſhould be, if by the like accident, he ſhould loſe Diana. Thus they ſtood a while with out uttering one word, but walked together in the wood: At laſt Silvander broke ſilence: I doe find dear Tircis (ſaid he unto him) That your reſentments are ſo juſt: as nothing in your ſadneſs can be condemned, but that exceſs of it which moves you unto a deſire to leave us: For having contracted here ſome habitudes which may conduce much unto your quietneſs, I conceve, that unleſs you be an enemy unto your ſelf, you cannot part from us: The way of our lives is ſweet, our converſation not at all babarous: and if any evill ſhould happen unto you, there is no place in the world where you can find better helps then amongſt us. My quietneſs, replied Tircis, depends upon the laſt munite of my life, which cannot come ſo ſoon as it is deſired, and Cleon, who doubleſs loves me more then ever ſhe did, does blame me for being ſo long from her: I beſeech you therfore even by that with is moſt dear unto you, not to take it ill, if I follow my firſt reſolution, and that you take ſo much pains as to aſſure Adamas, and all thoſe unto whom my name is known, that what place ſoever my fate does guide me, I ſhall moſt inviolably preſerve the memory of their courtiſies.

But (ſaid Silvander) I beſeech you tell me whither you intend to go, that we may ſometimes have the happineſs to hear from you; and let you know the paſſages upon the banks of Lignon. It will be hard for me (replied the diſconſolate ſhepheard) to tell you that which I do not know my ſelf. I ſhall confine my ſelf to the woods and rocks, where I ſhall not merit the honour of your memory; and where I preſume you will not beſtow any thoughts upon an object ſo diſpleaſing as mine: In ſaying ſo, he embraced Silvander, and Silvander doing the like unto him; May you even (ſaid he) find full ſatisfaction unto all your deſires: And may you Silvander, (replied Tircis) ever enjoy thoſe favours, and that happineſs which heaven owes unto your merit. Upon this they parted; and Tircis wandering into the woods, not knowing which way to take, Silvander went towards [Page] the houſe of Adamas; He did not yet know the ſad news with the return of Paris brought unto him; and had been longer ignorant of it, if Lucinder, by fortune walking with a young man, who brought him the news from Lyons, had not informed him of it as very welcome news; He told him alſo of Bellinde; and that ſhepheard, who preſently began to ſuſpect the cauſe of their coming, was ſo damped at it, that he could not chuſe but let his ſorrows appear in his face; yet he did conceal from that Cavelier, the cauſe of his reſentment, and leaſt knowing of Bellindes coming, they ſhould tax him with incivility if he did not go and preſent his ſervice unto her; he gave a check unto thoſe thoughts which perſwaded him, that ſince her coming was only about the contentment if Paris, he ought to fly from her preſence: He went therefore into the houſe, where Bellinde receved him with extraordinary kindneſs: And ſince he was come, dinner was brought up, and all the Company ſat down at the Table.

Dinner was no ſooner done; but Alcander, Silenies, and Lucindor, reſolved to leave forreſts, and go unto the bankes of Arar, and there reap thoſe ſweet contentments which they expected from the enjoyment of their Miſtreſſes, Cercenea, Palanice, and Florice, were eaſily perſwaded therunto; and therefore, as ſoon as they roſe from the table, they went unto Adamas; And after a thouſand wel-expreſſed complements of thanks, for his love, and civilities to them, they bad adieu unto him, and all the reſt if the Company, and ſeemed very ſorry to part. Florica, Circenea, and Palanice; could not reſtrain their tears, when they took their leaves of Alexis, Diana, Aſtrea, eſpecially Phillis, unto whom they thought themſelves moſt particularly obliged for drawing them out of thoſe perplexities, in which the Oracle had long held them; yet conſidering that they came not thither to ſtay always there, after they had obtained the end of their coming, they bad their adieus with leſs regret, and ſet forwards, notwithſtanding the earneſt entreaties of Adamas to ſtay longer at his houſe. Thaumantes, Delphire, Doriſea, and the reſt of that Company, not thinking to find a fairer day for their return into their ſeveral habitations, from which they had been ſo long abſent, they alſo deſired the Druides leave to be gone; unto which he conſenting, becauſe he would ſtay them no longer from the pleaſure of ſeeing their friends and flocks, he heartily beſeeched them to viſit him ſometimes, and proteſted they ſhould be moſt heartily wellcome unto him; the ſheapheards gave him a thouſand thanks, and after they had taken leave of all the Company, they departed extreamly well ſatisfied with the Druides entertainment of them, and thoſe fair ſhepherdeſſes whom they left in his houſe.

Alexis was not a little glad of their departure, becauſe ſhe thought that now ſhe could with leſs conſtraint enjoy the careſſes of Aſtrea, and talk of her paſſion: But Silvander, who hoped to find better opportunities of talk with Diana, amongſt ſuch a multitude of Company, he was very ſorry for their departure, and heartily deſired they would have ſtayed longer at the Druides deſires. In the mean time Adamas, who could not forget his reſolution not to let the day paſs before he had undeceived Aſtrea, as ſoon as he had rendred all civilities unto thoſe that went from his houſe, he went into his garden, where after two or three turns, thinking what courſe he had beſt take to bring his intention to paſs; he cauſed Leonide to be called; and communicated his deſign unto her. After this, he carried her into his cloſſet, and having made choice amongſt his books of one which he thought moſt fit for the uſe he did intend it, he put it into the hands of his Neece and directed her what to doe, and how ſhe ſhould carry her ſelf to make Celadon happy in his dear Aſtrea; The Nimph did promiſe to obey him moſt faithfully: and returning into the great Chamber ſhe addreſſed her ſelf unto Alexis who was talking with Silvander and Aſtrea, whilſt Diana was puzled to find out anſweres unto the diſcourſe of Paris: For though ſhe gave him but cold entertainement yet he did not ſtick [...] to ſhy them unto her: Can any wiſh, faireſt Diana to be more happy then I am, ſince the Gods are pleaſed to let me enjoy her whom of all the world I love beſt? I cannot tell, anſwered Diana (very faintly) whom you mean, But I doe not wonder at your good fortune, for it cannot be better then you deſerve: My meaning is (replied Paris) that the [Page] gods have aſſured me by their Oracle, that you muſt be mine, and that's the reaſon why I am ſo full of joy: for to tell you moſt truly, my affection unto you i▪ moſt violent, and of all the favours that heaven can ſhower upon me, none can be more dear unto me, then the honour to enjoy you. Diana then caſting her eye upon Silvander, who had fixed his upon her: That (ſaid ſhe with a deep ſigh) is the leaſt of ten thouſand, and I cannot chuſe but wonder you ſhould take the pains to look after it: I am ſo mean a thing in compariſon of you, that the diſproportion affrights me, and hinders me from any joy in that, from whence any other then my ſelf, would draw a happineſſe. O Diana (ſaid Paris) do not ſin ſo much, as to eſteem your ſelf ſo little, whoſe beauty and perfections are ſuch, as merit ten thouſand times better then my ſelf.

Could I diſpoſe of Scepters and Empires, as freely as I can of that eſtate which the affection of a Father will confer upon me, I ſwear, my faireſt Diana, I ſhould humbly caſt them at your feet; and ſhould be as prodigal of them as I am of my liberty: See, replied Diana, how the gods are pleaſed to mingle bitters with the ſweets of our lives; ſince in ordaining me to be yours, they will not let my conſent go along with them: but will have that honour which would accrue unto me by your alliance, to be accompanied with my ſorrows, that I can have no inclination unto it. How? (ſaid Paris much aſtoniſhed) I beſeech you from whence proceeds this repugnancy? Did not you freely conſent that I ſhould go and ask Belindes conſent unto our marriage? I muſt needs ſay (anſwered Diana) that I did ſo far conſent unto your ſeeming deſires of having it ſo, not remembring that Aſtrea and I, had made a vow never to part from one another: Now ſince your departure, it hath ſo fallen out, that ſhe has an intention to go and live amongſt the Carnates: ſo as I being more obliged unto her then unto you, I muſt needs follow her, and have engaged my ſelf to no kind of life, but what ſhe lives.

I cannot tell, ſaid Paris, how heaven will diſpoſe of Astrea; but I am ſure, that unleſſe you do openly infringe the doom of your Deſtiny, you cannot oppoſe your ſelf againſt that happineſſe which I beg from you: Come, come, my faireſt, you muſt give your ſelf unto Paris, as Paris does moſt inviolably vow never to be anyes but Dianas. In ſaying ſo, he took her hand, and lifting it unto his mouth againſt her will, alas continued he, how unfortunate ſhould I be, if in leiu of the higheſt happineſſe I can ever wiſh, I ſhould find all my hopes blaſted? has any of my actions, deareſt Diana, offended you? If I have ſinned, let me know wherein, for I have courage enough to puniſh my ſelf, and love enough to make you ſatisfaction. Upon this he leaned towards her, and Diana, who for all her good will unto Silvander, could not hate Paris. The greateſt fault which you have committed (anſwered ſhe) is againſt your ſelf, in addreſſing your ſelf unto one, in whom you cannot find any thing anſwerable unto your merits, I wiſh you had placed your thoughts upon ſome more noble object then my ſelf; for as there you would find more honour, ſo alſo would you meet with more contentment: not but that I do ſet a high rate of eſteem upon you, and value you as your virtue and quality deſerves; but I muſt needs confeſſe, that I ſhould think my ſelf infinitly obliged unto you, if you would ceaſe this addreſſe unto me, and not oppoſe that earneſt deſire which I have of going with Aſtrea, and ending my dayes amongſt the profeſſed Virgins.

Paris was ready to reply when one came unto him from Adamas, who was in his cloſet with Belinde; ſo as ſuppoſing that he was ſent for to treat concerning this match, he ſaid nothing unto Aſtrea but this; your Fate and mine, faireſt Diana, are in the hands of thoſe who can diſpoſe of us, and I believe you will think it a crime to diſobey them: for my part, I am fully reſolved to obſerve whatſoever they ſhall ordain concerning me. In ſaying ſo, he kiſſed her hand, and went to the place where Adamas and Belinde ſtayed for him. Silvander no ſooner ſaw him out of the chamber, but he left Alexis, Leonede, and Aſtrea, and came unto Diana, but ſo dejected in his countenance, as if he would have died. Firſt he fell down upon his knees, becauſe none remained in the room whom he miſtruſted, and caſting his eyes upon Dianas, which ſtood already in water; well, [Page] my faireſt Miſtreſſe (ſaid he unto her) now am I utterly undone. Belinde is now come; Paris is all joy, in hopes ere long to enjoy you: Dianas deſires are now accompliſhed, and poor Silvanders hopes quite blaſted. O heavens! anſwered Diana, why will you wound me to the ſoul ſo mortally? Is it not enough that I am conſtrained to ſuffer the Tyranny of a Mother, and that I languiſh in the moſt affliction ever poor woman endured, but you, Silvander, muſt grieve me more by your ſuſpitions, and think me guilty of a miſery which is to befal us? My ſuſpitions (anſwered Silvander faintly) were turned into aſſurances, that very minute you firſt permitted Paris to make his addreſſes to you, it was an eaſie matter to judge, that his quality would win upon the will of Belinde, and that the honour of being the ſon of Adamas, was of it ſelf ſufficient to make him merit that happineſſe which he is going to enjoy; but Diana, I do wiſh you all joy, at the rate of my own miſery: may you long live contented in the enjoyment of my rival: beſtow upon his quality, that which my love might very well obtain; if I do murmure, it ſhall not be againſt you. Heaven had been unjuſt, had it endued you with more fidilety: it is not fit you ſhould be the conqueſt of a Vagabond, a Stranger, a miſerable wretch, upon whom the Stars have ſhot their moſt malignant influences: Paris only is worthy to poſſeſſe you, not becauſe he loves you more, but becauſe he is more rich and more fortunate then I. The laſt ſentence which muſt doom me unto him, replied Diana, is not yet pronounced, and I do promiſe you to put as many obſtacles, as my duty will in any handſomneſſe give me leave: I have already told him, that I had made a vow to confine my ſelf unto the Carnates, and that I could, with leſſe violence upon my ſelf, execute that deſign, then receive his alliance; but he proteſts he underſtands from an Oracle, that I muſt infallibly be his: that I confeſſe does moſt trouble me, becauſe if it be the decree of the gods, I am afraid all our endeavours are not able to thwart it. I alſo muſt confeſſe (ſaid Silvander) that it were an impardonable piece of folly in me, to deſire a happineſſe, which by eternal decree is forbidden me: The gods cannot lye; and ſince they have ordained that Diana muſt marry Paris, and that Silvander muſt die, it is moſt juſt we ſhould ſubmit unto their wills. I will go therefore, faireſt Diana, and ſeek out ſome means to obey them, and deliver my ſelf all at once from thoſe miſeries which perſecute me: In ſaying ſo, he roſe up; but the Shepherdeſſe laying hold upon him, whither will you go Silvander, ſaid ſhe unto him? will you offer to attempt any thing againſt my contentment? your love unto me ought to be above all other conſiderations, and you can by no Law be diſpenſed from that obedience which you ow unto me; The Law which bids me deſpair (anſwered Silvander) ought to be the moſt inviolable, becauſe it is moſt ſutable unto the will of the gods: Their intention is, that I ſhould ceaſe to live, and ſince they would have it ſo, both you and I are obliged to be alſo conformable. Therefore, Diana, do not hinder me from that benefit; by it I ſhall have the accompliſhment of my deſires; if you love me, you will not deny that which end all my miſeries, and begin all my delights: ſhould I follow your inclination, and prolong the courſe of my miſerable dayes, what would it advantage you further, then to be a witneſſe of your violated faith? and Diana, what do you think would become of me? Do you think me able to ſurvive that fatal ſight of ſeeing you in the power of another. Alas, alas, Diana, aſſure your ſelf I ſhould run ſtark mad, and do ſuch ſtrange things, as poſterity ſhould wonder at. It is therefore better for me to diſtance my ſelf from you betimes, and by one ſudden death, avoid ten thouſand which your marriage would put me to, and ſo teſtifie to the world, that I have more love and more courage then you have.

Silvander expreſſed himſelf in ſuch a manner as made Diana extreamly pity him; and becauſe it vexed her to ſee him in ſuch a fury, it was long before ſhe anſwered him in any other language but that of tears: at laſt, clearing up her voice, and looking him in the face. did I think Silvander (ſaid ſhe unto him) that death were an argument of my affection and courage, perhaps I ſhould open my veins ſooner then you imagine; but I am afraid, it would be in me a mark of infamy, and would give unto my ſurvivers a ſubject to accuſe me of ſome greater fault, [Page] then that of loving you: Life is not ſo dear unto me as my honour, and were it poſſible to leave the one and not the other, Paris ſhould nere triumph over Diana, nor would I ever be forced to receive any other husband then you: Believe this Silvander, for a moſt certain truth; I do invoke the gods to be witneſſe of it; and let heaven never pardon me, if I would not execute that deſign with as much courage as now I do mention it. I perceive for all this (replied Silvander dejectly) that all you ſay, is only to aſſure me that I muſt not pretend any more unto you; and ſince ſo, can you think that I can ever receive any comfort after ſuch a loſſe? O my deareſt Diana, do not injure me ſo much, as to think I can live in this world after all hopes of you is gone: Let what arguments be alledged that will or can, I will not ſtay in it; nor do I think any can be found ſtrong enough to condemn my deſpair.

Upon this, Belinde entred into the room, which did not a little ſurprize Diana, who being infinitly afraid to loſe Silvander, was very deſirous to ſweeten in ſome ſort, thoſe bitter diſpleaſures which ſhe ſaw him reſent. She haſted therefore to ſay unto him in a low voice: Servant, if I have any power over you, I do command you to live, at the leaſt until you hear for certain, that my marriage is conſummated: upon this word, ſhe roſe up to go unto her mother, who made a ſign unto her, ſo to do.

Alexis, Leonide, and Aſtrea, who had alſo diſcourſed upon their affairs, did riſe up at the ſame time, and joyning themſelves with Diana, went altogether unto Belinde; who carrying them into the garden, deſired that ſhe might have ſome privacy with Diana, to tell her of ſome particular buſineſſe which ſhe had to communicate unto her. Upon this they ſevered themſelves: Leonide, Astrea, and Alexis, went into the thick of the Grove, whilſt poor Silvander, not knowing which way to go, went out of the houſe, and took the firſt way that his foot ſtepped into.

He came by Fortune unto the place, where formerly he had taken delight in diſcourſing unto the rocks concerning the beginning of his Love; and leaning himſelf againſt the trunk of an old willow, which the river had inſenſibly undermined, he ſtopped a while to look upon the roots of it; and finding them to be almoſt all quite bare and out of the earth, he compared the ſtate of that tree unto that of his love.

Poor ſtump (ſaiſt he) upon how ſmall a thred does thy life and mine now hang? thou art ſuſtained only by two or three ſmall ſtrings of a root, which the ſwelling of the river Lignon will looſen from the earth, and carry thee away. So likewiſe miſerable I, who only do ſubſiſt by one bare command of Dianas, and cannot live any longer, until the anger of heaven do put me out of all hopes to enjoy her: Afterwards, caſting his eyes upon the little waves which daſhed againſt the banks, and preſently retired back: Clear waves (ſaid he) is it not me whom ye call unto you? and do not you invite me to follow you? This ſweet murmure wherewith you flatter my griefs, does it not aſſure me, that you will be more kind unto me then Diana? do you not tell me, that you are ſo pitiful, that you will moſt willingly receive me into your boſome? Ah Celadon (continued he) how happy thou art, in finding amongſt theſe waves a remedy to all thy ſorrows? For let them talk what they will, in lieu of falling into the water to help Astrea, I believe thou didſt caſt in thy ſelf, only to help thy ſelf, and be ſafe from thoſe ſtorms which her anger, or perhaps jealouſie, had raiſed againſt thee. O Heavens! O Celadon? why ſhould not I do the ſame? Lignon does offer me the ſame help; Diana does give me the ſame cauſe; but cruel woman that ſhe is, ſhe takes away from me the power of doing it, and moſt unjuſtly does oblige me unto the obſervation of a vow which I have made to obey her. After this, leaving unto his thoughts the liberty of wandering whither they would, he ſtood near an hower ſtudying upon the ſeveral accidents of his life; but after a thouſand thoughts, he fixed them all upon his love: and comparing all the pleaſures that ever he received with his preſent pains, he found ſo great a diſproportion, as he had much ado to remember that ever he enjoyed any contentment; this made him curſe his firſt flames, and not being able to check the firſt motion, made him repent [Page] that ever he lived; yet calling to memory the perfections of Diana, and conſidering, that ſince it was his Fate to die, he could not loſe his life in a better cauſe: he condemned his firſt thoughts; and as if he would profeſſe himſelf an enemy unto himſelf, in loving this Shepherdeſſe ſtill, he wiſhed more miſery upon himſelf, that he might be the more her Martyr.

Probably he had ſpent all the reſt of the day in theſe imaginations, unleſſe by Fortune he had coughed, and a neighbouring Eccho returned the noiſe back again unto him; and though he knew well enough from whence that hollow voice came, yet would he needs conſult with it upon the preſent condition of his life; and therefore he fell to interrogatories with the Eccho, which ſtill anſwered him, that the heart of his Miſtreſſe was as hard as any Rock.

After he had diſcourſed thus a long while, he held his peace; and then broke out again in theſe terms: Ceaſe, ceaſe, poor miſerable wretch, ceaſe for ever all complaints, and without conſuming thy ſelf in unprofitable ſorrows, begin to think, that perhaps this is the fatal day, in which Paris muſt triumph over Diana: O moſt diſmal day, wherein I muſt ſee my Miſtreſſe a ſubject unto my Rival; or rather a day of Jubile, wherein I will deliver my freeborn ſoul from the priſon of this wretched body: Thou ſhalt be unto me the moſt joyful day of all my life, and I will mark thee in my Almanack with the red Letters of my blood.

Thus did Silvander expreſſe his grief for the loſſe of Diana; and ſo great was his deſpair, as he ſwore that he would never enter into the houſe of Adamas, until he certainly knew what was reſolved upon, concerning the marriage of this Shepherdeſſe: and whilſt he was thus diſputing with himſelf, he retired himſelf into his own Town, and there he would loſe himſelf in ſome ſolitude or other; but then, he began to think upon the fault which he had committed againſt the Druide, in going from his houſe without any return of thanks for his favours, or ſo much as bidding him adieu: yet he followed his firſt thoughts, and reſolved to ſee him no more until he heard the doom of death or life pronounced upon him. I know very well (ſaid he to himſelf) that Adamas has cauſe to complain againſt my ingratitude, and to have an ill opinion of my humour; but I do find the inconvenience which may happen unto me upon it, much leſs which I ſhould ſuffer, if I ſhould give him the opportunity of uſing that authority which he hath over me, and if he ſhould command me not to depart from his houſe until I were preſent at the marriage of Paris, which he does not think would be ſo fatal unto me, as it would. In ſaying ſo, he ſtill wandred on; and at laſt, never ſo much as minding which way he went, he came unto his own Cabine: where not finding his flock, becauſe the boy which kept them, had driven them out very early, he ſtayed ſo little a time there, as did apparently ſhew, that the cares of his Love did much more buſie his mind, then the cares of his eſtate. So leaving his own home, to pleaſe himſelf in his inquietudes, he took the firſt way his foot light upon, not ſo much as minding or knowing which way it would conduct him.

Belinde, on the other ſide, being alone with Diana, and wanting nothing but her conſent to marry her unto Paris, ſhe began this diſcourſe: Diana (ſaid ſhe) the authority which I may juſtly clame over your will, would allow me to diſpoſe of you without conſulting with any but my ſelf: yet being unwilling to make uſe of that power which Nature hath ſo abſolutely given me over you, I conceive it requiſite to communicate unto you, my deſign of marrying you. I am ſure you cannot be ignorant that Paris loves you, and I make no doubt but you love him alſo: The journey that he took unto me, makes me ſo well knowing in it, that had it not been for the ſiege of Marcelles, I had been here ſooner to give him that contentment which I ſee he courts with ſo much zeal and ſincerity: now his affection aiming at no other end but marriage, and ſince you can never meet with a more advantageous match, I was very deſirous to know your mind, and to tell you mine, that you may ſee how great a care I have of your good. My deſign is, not to let him languiſh any longer in his queſt; but to conſummate the marriage as ſoon as may be: Delay in ſuch caſes does often prove prejudicial; and it is as groſſe ſimplicity not to take a happineſſe when it is offered, as it is to bewail [Page] it after is loſt. Tell me therfore freely Diana, what you think upon the motion, and [...]p [...]n unto me your moſt ſecret thoughts, aſſuring your ſelf, that I do love you as much as a Mother can a child, and have as indulgent a care over you, as any thing in this world.

Diana who all the while Bellinde talked, held her eyes fixed upon the ground, now lifting them up, Madam (anſwered ſhe) I need not tell you what inclination I have unto Paris, nor in what manner I receive his addreſſes, ſince I know but too will, that you are reſolved I ſhould be his, and ſince what reaſons ſoever I alledg to the contrary, it will be perhaps impoſſible for me to alter your determination. Yet to give you ſatisfaction and to leave you no longer in an opinion that I have any affection towards him, I will tell you that truely I doe not hate him; but I moſt tell you withall that I doe not love him ſo faire as to deſire to be his wife: Not that I will ever contradict any thing that you ſhall command me, but doe refer my ſelf more unto your judgement then my own, and ſuch is my conformity unto all your commands, that my very deſires ſhall never contradict yours.

Bellinde, who knew nothing of her love to Silvander, and imagined that all this language was only hid from her, for the affection ſhe had unto Paris: Diana (ſaid ſhe) all theſe trivial excuſes are not now ſeaſonable: [...] have not ſo much forgotten the paſſages betwixt me and Colion, your Father; but I know what a young woman can ſay, who is aſhamed to confeſſe her thoughts: I know that you do love Paris, and I am glad on's: his merits may well pretend unto a better fortune then you have, and therefore you are the more beholding to him, ſince he does value only your virtue, and your ſelf, not your fortune; Madam, replied Diana, I proteſt unto you, that Paris is as indifferent unto me, as all other men are; There is only one thing which moves me to eſteem him, which is; That in all his good will towards me, his diſcretion hath been ſo great; as it was impoſſible but I ſhould a little wiſh him well: But Madam, this good will which you are pleaſed to ſpeak of, goes no farther; and I dare ſay, never will go farther in terms of amity then ſuch as a ſiſter bears unto a brother: And therefore I moſt humbly beſeech you, not to think that in beſtowing me upon him you procure me ſuch advantage as will bring me any contentment; I proteſt, I wiſh with all my heart, that he had never looked upon my face, but with eyes of indifferency: And the greateſt favour you can do me, is to let me continues as I am, and to live as I have done hitherto: the demand, replied Bellinde, is not juſt, and I were extremely to blame if I did conſent unto it: The ſtrongeſt law that I can impoſe upon you, is my peremptory command: But that you may not think I will conſtrain you unto any thing but what reaſon dictates unto me; I would have you conſider whether it be poſſible I ſhould ſuffer what you deſire; firſt, this amity which you have contracted with Aſtrea, and Phillis, will at the l [...]ſt have an and, or at the leaſt, not afford you that ple [...]ſure which formerly it hath, becauſe you muſt all part; and though not on your ſide, yet probably on theirs; then will you not find any felicities in life, when two Companions, who are ſo dear unto you, are gone the very places where you lived together, will after you have loſt them, preſent you every moment with freſh ſubjects of ſorrow: But ſuppoſe it poſſible that this knot of amity ſhould laſt eternally, and that you were inſeperable; you muſt yet know Diana, that you cannot reſiſt the power of a few years, which will wrincle you with age; and then God know, how much you will be aſhamed of a thouſand diſadvantageous reports that will go upon you. Some will ſay, that it was in you a ſign of a weak judgement, that could not take a good match when it was offered; others will ſay, that you are a woman of ſuch ſhallow merit, that none has a mind to make any addreſſes unto you: And almoſt all, without any farther inquiry into your life, will he ſquibbing againſt you any thing that comes into their fancies: whereas by living under the power of a husband, you are ſafe from all theſe ſlanders, and quietly enjoy the pleaſure of being inſeperable from one that perfectly loves you: Madam (ſaid the ſhepherdeſs) Marriage is not always the m [...]a [...] to ſtop the black mouths of ſcandalous people: Thoſe who have a mind to blaſt the actions of others, will [Page] ſoon find matter enough to work upon in any kind of life that one can live: I have heard ſay, that ſlander reſembles an arrow which is ſhot and muſt neceſſarily light ſome where, and has this ill quality with all, that moſt comonly it hurts the innocent, and makes the leſt actions condemned as crimes: So as Madam, if any have an intended deſign to blaſt my reputation, I cannot avoid the blow, nor do I think the name of wife a better armour, then the name of a maid: however it be (ſaid Bellinde) I muſt of neceſſity diſcharge my ſelf of that care with I am bound to have of you, to the end, that thoſe few days I have to live, may be the more ſeriouſly imployed in the ſervice of our Gods. But I beſeech you Madam, (ſaid the ſhepherdeſs) if you find ſo much ſatisfaction in the ſervice of thoſe divinities, may not I alſo pretend to be imployed in the ſame? Doubtleſs you may, (ſaid Bellinde) but the gods have made known their pleaſures unto me, and have commanded me to Marry you unto Paris: For you muſt know Diana, that as it is not my humour to do things raſhly, ſo would I not at the firſt hearken unto the requeſt which Paris made unto me; but taking a little time to conſider upon it, I firſt did what I could to know whether his inclination unto you were as real as he pretended it; And in order thereto, I conſulted with the Oracle of that Deity, whom I adore, who commanded me to conſent unto it, in theſe very words,

The Oracle.

ENquire no more Bellinde: Go

Order and contrive the matter ſo,

As he whom ere Diana marryes

Be ſon to Adamas, calld'd Paris.

Oh good gods! (cryed out Diana) how inſufferable is this neceſſity which is impoſed upon me; and how ſhall I ere be able to endure the tyranny of this huſband? In ſaying ſo, her eyes began to flow in tears; with Bellinde perceiving; But what abundance of pleaſure (replied ſhe) will you enjoy in the poſſeſſion of this lover who will be a ſecond ſelf unto you? Madam, replied Diana, and kneeling down) I do conjure you by the memory of my dear Father, and by that love which once you bore him, to conſent that I may end my days no where but in your Company: you cannot procure unto me a greater advancement; and if it be true that you do value my contentment, out of pitty, grant this requeſt unto me: Bellinde, who imagined that the tears and expreſſions of Diana did not proceed from her apprehenſions of being under the power of Paris, but rather from a kind of baſhfullneſs, which is inſeperably incident to her ſex: Diana (ſaid ſhe unto her) I do know better then you, what is moſt convenient for you; and unleſs you will exceedingly diſpleaſe me, you muſt not oppoſe your ſelf againſt him whom I have propounded unto you: In ſaying ſo, ſhe commanded her to riſe up, and afterwards ſhe continued thus, though the quality of Paris were not ſo conſiderable as it is, yet his virtue being in ſo high a degree, you have no cauſe to doubt but you may be more happy in being his, then you can deſerve: and therfore I charge you to let me ſee no more of any ſuch ſignes of diſcontent to appear in your face: if I do, I ſhall take them for ſo many teſtimonies of your diſobedience: I think Madam, (anſwered the ſhepheardeſs) I ſhall have ſo much power over my face as to keep it from telling you my diſpleaſures: but I am afraid I have not ſo much power over my inclination, as to make me receive the alliance with Paris, with any joy: I do much better love Sil— heere ſhe made a ſtop; and was ſurpriſed that the name of Silvander was ſo neer comming out: And Bellinde commanding her to go on, Diana, who knew that if ſhe had named Silvander, her mother would not have liked of it therefore ſhe replied thus: I ſay Madam, that I do much better love Silence in my grave, or to live amongſt the Carnates, if you would be pleaſed, the in the [Page] company of Paris. I tell you once for all (anſwered Belinde, ſeemed to be angry) that you ought to have no other will but mine; and ſince I deſire to be obedient unto the gods, who would have me beſtow you upon Paris, you will extreamly anger me if you be in the leaſt againſt it. Begin therefore betimes to prepare your ſelf; for ſince Adamas hath conſented unto it, I will have the buſineſſe fully reſolved upon this very night: Upon this, ſhe left her to the mercy of a thouſand tormenting thoughts, which came into her mind; and not ſtaying to hear any anſwer, ſhe went unto Adamas.

Diana no ſooner ſaw her ſelf alone, but ſhe opened a paſſage for thoſe tears which that reſpect ſhe bore unto her mother had kept within her eyes; and now being at liberty to ſigh. Though (ſaid ſhe) they will not pleaſe me, yet they cannot hinder me from complaining: Afterwards, conſidering the abundance of tears which flowed from her eyes, and down her Roſie cheeks, like rivers: alas, poor feeble tears (ſaid ſhe) why will you attempt a thing ſo full of difficulty? Alas, you can only bedew and make grow thoſe flowers which the earth brings forth, whilſt you drown and wither thoſe that Nature has placed in my cheeks: Alas, they require ſome nouriſhment that is a little more mild and ſweet; you, cruel tears, are too ſharp and bitter for them; you do proceed from a cauſe too ſad, and would, in any other then my ſelf, be a cauſe rather of death then life. In ſaying ſo, ſhe ſtopt a little, and afterwards broke out again: Alas (continued ſhe) you are arguments of my faint courage, ſince I dare not have recourſe unto no other remedies then you, as if Nature did not offer unto me other arms, wherewith to revenge my ſelf upon the injuries of Fortune. For what uſe were poyſons created? what are ſwords for? what Precipices? what flames? what waters? but to be imployed in the relief of miſerable wretches: Courage therefore Diana; make uſe of ſome one of theſe remedies to eaſe thee of thy miſery: make choice of the moſt violent, that the act may be the ſooner done, and endeavour to prevent this very minute which is to blaſt all thy hopes of any joy. Upon this, ſhe went out of the Garden, not to go into the houſe of Adamas, for that was odious unto her, but to go into the wood, in hopes to meet with ſome of her companions, to whom ſhe might without fear, ſigh out the cauſe of her grief: She was almoſt at the very banks of Lignon, before ſhe met with any; but at laſt ſhe ſpied Aſtrea, who was ſet under an old oak, holding a handkerchief in one hand, and leaning her head upon the other: Diana much wondered to ſee her ſelf out of the company of Alexis and Leonide, becauſe ſhe knew they went out together, and knowing that ſhe would never have parted from them without ſome reaſon, ſhe was very deſirous to know the cauſe, and made ſo litle noiſe in coming to her, as ſhe was within four or five paces of the Shepherdeſſe and was never perceived.

The ſighs and groans which Aſtrea ſent forth, made Diana believe that ſhe had received ſome extraordinary diſpleaſure, eſpecially when ſhe heard her ſay with a deep ſigh, traiterous and perſideous wretch, durſt thou be ſo bold as to offend me ſo extreamly? Cruel Shepherd, wouldſt thou offer to abuſe my innocence ſo long, as in the end to blaſt my reputation? Then ſtopping, as if the violence of her ſighs would not let her ſpeak any more; miſerable wretch that I am (ſaid ſhe again) how dare I ever appear in the world again? I ſee my ſelf now obliged to bluſh eternally, and to ſeem as if I were guilty of a crime which I never committed.

Upon this, flowing with tears again, and ſtill lifting her handkerchief to her eyes, ſhe fell into a deep ſtudy, and that ſo deep, as Diana came and ſit down by her, and ſtayed a long while before Aſtrea ever perceived her; at laſt, Diana being deſirous to apply ſome remedy to her troubled mind, though ſhe ſtood in as great need her ſelf: Siſter (ſaid ſhe and pulled her gently) what new affliction is this that is fallen upon you? Aſtrea then rowſing her ſelf, as out of a deep ſleep, and ſeeing one ſo near her whom ſhe ſo much eſteemed, yet never anſwering to Dianas queſtion; for ſhe no ſooner heard her voice, but we embraced her, and fell into ſuch a flow of tears, that Diana was no leſſe afflicted then ſhe, and finding ſuch an object of pity could not reſtrain her tears neither: ſo being both [Page] ſilent, they ſate a long while embracing and crying together. At laſt, Aſtrea, in a voice interrupted with ſighs: ah Siſter (ſaid ſhe unto her) ah Siſter, Siſter, I am utterly undone: Why Siſter (ſaid Diana) what's the matter, and who has cauſed all this ſorrow unto you? Celadon (replied Aſtrea) Diana then imagining, that the death of this Shepherd came freſh into her memory, and that being ſo near Lignon, ſhe could not chuſe but reſent the ſad accident. Siſter (anſwered ſhe) I will not condemn your tears, but you muſt give me leave to tell you, that if all the tears which you have ſhed for him, ſince his loſſe, were all together, they would make a river as big as that wherein he was drown'd: Come, come, companion, believe it, you have wept enough. Ah me, dear Siſter (ſaid Aſtrea, and interrupted her) you know not what cauſe I have to weep: I would to God when he threw himſelf into the River, I had been drown'd with him, then ſhould I not at this hour be ſo grieved as I am, nor ſhould I have been the common talk of all the world, as now I muſt: Diana, not being able to underſtand her meaning, Believe it Siſter, replied ſhe, I ſhall be long ignorant, unleſſe you do better inform me, but I beſeech you ſpeak freely unto me, and let me know the cauſe of your diſpleaſure, aſſuring your ſelf, that I ſhall as freely diſcover a thing unto you which troubles me extreamly, and the more, becauſe I am out of all hopes to find any remedy.

I will tell you what it is which troubles me (anſwered Aſtrea, beginning to wipe her eyes and ſit down in her place again) for though I would not render that duty unto the affection which is common betwixt us, yet ſhould I do it out of another prevalent conſideration, which is, that we two having been almoſt all one, and our very thoughts no more hid from one another, then our actions, it is neceſſary that you ſhould anſwer for my deportment, and that thoſe who ſhall make any doubt of my virtue, may ceaſe to entertain any ill opinion of me, by the reports which you will make in my advantage: I do not think (replied Diana) any man can be ſo ſimple as to blame you for any thing you ever did; but if there ſhould, I promiſe moſt faithfully to vindicate you, and to ſpeak in your behalf as I ought to do. And therefore, my dear companion, I conjure you to conceal nothing from me, but freely open your ſoul unto me, with this aſſurance, that I will never deny any thing you ſhall deſire of me. Then Astrea having dryed her eyes: I ever thought (ſaid ſhe unto her) that your affection unto me was as perfect as I could deſire, nay more then I could deſerve: and to the end you ſhould not exceed me in love, I will make a diſcourſe which none but you or Phillis ſhould ever get out of me: Know therefore, my dear companion, that whilſt Paris was talking with you, Leonide came unto Alexis and me, and after ſhe had asked what was the ſubject of our diſcourſe, ſhe ſaid unto me, what will you give me Aſtrea, if I do tell you as good news as you can poſſible deſire. Fair Nymph (anſwered I) I have nothing that I can diſpoſe of; for all that I have is this day transferred into the power of my deareſt Miſtreſſe; but I ſhall be very obliged unto you, if you will tell me any thing which imports either her contentment or mine: what I have to tell you (ſaid Diana) does equally relate unto you both; and to hold you no longer in ſuſpence, Adamas came to aſſure me, that it ſhould be only your fault, if you did not tye ſuch a knot, as death only could unlooſe: Then he knows (anſwered I unto her) that I ſhall obtain amongſt the Carnates, that place which I deſired. He is moſt certain of it (anſwered ſhe) for he commanded me to bring you the news of it, that you might betimes prepare your ſelf for it, and rejoyce: I have ſo long diſpoſed my ſelf for it, anſwered I, that I am ready at an inſtant, but I durſt never build any certain hopes of it until now; and therefore I will with a moſt joyful heart go unto him, and thank him for the remembrance he had of my Fortune. Thus we went on talking together, when Leonide, after a while of ſilence, whiſpered me in the ear, Aſtrea (ſaid ſhe) tell me truly; will not the company of Celadon be as pleaſing unto you, as the company of Alexis? Sage Nymyh (anſwered I) why do you ask me that queſtion? Becauſe, ſaid ſhe, it is very neceſſary that I know it for ſome conſiderations which I ſhall tell you. Upon this I obſerved that Alexis did withdraw a little from us, and under a pretence of looking upon ſome Pictures, [Page] ſhe began to walk up and down the room. I being then alone with the Nymph: Celadon (ſaid I unto her) was a Shepherd unto whom I ought to have no great inclination, by reaſon of the enmity that was betwixt our Parents; and Alexis is a Druides daughter, whom all things do oblige me moſt perfectly to love: and therefore in all probability, I ſhall be more delighted in her company, then in that Shepherds, who can never be, in my opinion, more then in a condition of indifferency.

This diſſimulation (ſaid Leonide unto me) might be good at another ſeaſon, or before one who has not ſo much knowledge of your affairs as I have; but to me, who knows to a ſyllable all the Letters that ever you writ unto him, and who am not ignorant in any one of all the accidents that ever befel you, witneſſe your jealouſie, which was the cauſe of his throwing himſelf into Lignon; it is to be thought, fair Astrea, that theſe diſſimulations are to no purpoſe, and that you do your ſelf an injury, if you do not ſpeak more freely unto me.

Judge Diana, whether or no, I was ſurprized when I heard her talk thus: really it did almoſt raviſh me; but deſiring to know more, how (asked I) came you to know all this that you have told me? I ſhall tell you (anſwered ſhe) but I beſeech you never ſpeak of it unto any, and ſwear unto me, that of all the ſecrets you know, this ſhall be the moſt inviolable. I who never in all my life deſired any thing more paſſionatly, then to know how ſhe came by all theſe things, I ſwore unto her even what ſhe would, and then ſhe went on thus: You muſt know Astrea, that my uncle, as he is in a quility much above the common ſort of men, ſo he is owner of ſuch rare qualities, as makes him come near unto a Diety: few men ever equall'd him in excellency of wit, or profundity of Science: his humility, which is incomparable, makes him even with care hide that, which another out of oftentation would make appear; I who have relation to him, have ſo great a ſhare in his affection, as he ſeldome ever conceals any thing from me: I can ſay, that he hath very few ſecrets, of which I have not had ſome experience.

Mow, being ſome dayes in Marcelles, and in my chamber there, he came unto me, and I know not upon what fancy, asking me ſome queſtions concerning you, at the firſt I was very ſhie in making him any anſwers: At laſt, know Leonide (ſaid he unto me) that this Shepherdeſſe is born under a conſtellation which doth promiſe unto her abondance of happineſſe, but this happineſs is mixed with ſo many bitter diſaſters, as very few perſons would condition to be happy upon the ſame terms: She had a moſt paſſionate affection unto Celadon, and doubtleſſe ſhe does yet burn with the ſame fire which that diſcreet Shepherd did kindle in her ſoul; but this flame has ſo few witneſſes, as Diana, Phillis, and Alexis, are the only perſons unto whom ſhe does diſcover the violence of it. If you deſire to know what ſucceſſe ſhall befal her, here is that which will make you more knowing: Then ſhe told me, that Adamas gave unto her a book, and that opening of it, ſhe had no ſooner inſerted certain Characters unto thoſe that were before in the book, but thereby ſhe found all that heretofore I told you concerning my life, and the life of Celadon; and having related a great part unto me, ſhe continued thus, you ſee Aſtrea, how little reaſon you have to conceal any thing from me: what I have already told you, is enough to make you truſt me; confeſſe therefore freely unto me, that you ſhall meet with more contentment in ending your dayes with him, then in living with Alexis, who in the quality of a Druides daughter, cannot, as I conceive, afford you more then common delights.

Since fair Nymph (ſaid I unto her) all the actions of my life are as well known unto you, as unto my ſelf; and ſince this prodigious Science of Adamas can tell you them to the leaſt circumſtance, I will not deny, but that I did love Celadon, with a moſt pure and holy affection; and that the moſt ſenſible diſpleaſure I ever reſented, was the loſſe of him: But the gods, who do all things for our good, not permitting our loves to arrive at a happy end, I have brought my mind to endure this ſeparation with patience; and it is only upon this accompt, that I have devoted my will unto the merits of Alexis, not conceiving that the ghoſt of my [Page] beloved Shepherd will be any thing offended, if to avoid the entertainment of any other I do confine my ſelf unto her, and to live with her in any place where my thoughts may be free, where I ſhall be little in the company of Calidon, or any other whom Pho [...]ion would have me to marry: Your deſign (anſwered Leonide) is ſo juſt handſome, that Adamas is reſolved to procure your contentment which you deſire; but becauſe that confinement is a kind of death, I wiſh Aſtrea, you would tell me ingeniouſly, whether before you die to the world, and leave all thoſe delightful habitations, where you have heretofore ſpent ſo many merry dayes with your dear Shepherd, you would not be very glad to have a ſight of him once more, and to let him know that it is for the love of him you leave this countrey, where ſince his abſence you never found any thing dilectable.

Alas, fair Nymph (anſwered I) what contentment could I ever receive, ſince it is only to aggravate my grief, and to aſſure me that is impoſſible ever to be happy again: No, no, ſage Leonide, I have too much offended his love not to be eternally puniſhed with the torment I endure, in aſſurance that I ſhall never ſee him again: That time, in which I ſaw him caſt himſelf headlong into Lignon, his head down, his arms ſpread, as if he were deſirous to embrace that element which was more kind unto him then I was; That time (I ſay) that Fatal time, was it, which taking him out of my ſight, did alſo take away all my hopes of his ever loving me again.

Do not ask me (ſaid ſhe unto me) whether or no it be impoſſible I ſhould give you that contentment: leave the care of that unto me, and the thing perhaps will not be ſo difficult as you imagine, only tell me whether or no you have any deſire to ſee him: for to tell you truly, I am able to do it; this very book which my Uncle gave me, is it which will help me to ſhew you the Image of your ſo much loved Celadon: In ſaying ſo, ſhe opened a book which ſhe held in her hand, wheae I ſaw a great number of figures and characters, which were unknown to me; ſo as when I caſt my eyes upon it, I knew not whether it was only a meer effect of my own imagination, or really ſome kind of virtue contained in it; but certain it is, I found my ſelf ſeized with an unaccuſtomed fear, and my blood began to riſe; therefore it was a long time before I ſpoke a word, which Leonide obſerving: Aſtrea (ſaid ſhe) have a good heart, and put on a ſtrong reſolution: for this is the ſumm of all; you do either love Celadon, or you do not love him: if you do love him, commit your cauſe unto the god of love; he is a puiſſant god, and able to give good ſucceſſe unto all our enterprizes; if you do not love him, then blot his very name out of your memory, and ſave me the labour of ſhewing him unto you; for I have no deſire unto it, further then as coaducing unto your contentment. Ah fair Nymph (anſwered I) you touch upon the moſt ſenſible part of my ſoul: Alas, why do you make any doubt whether or no I do love the memory of Celadon; if you have of late read the ſecrets of my life, certainly, Leonide, you know, that if you do find in me any repugnancy unto your motion, it is not but that I have a moſt earneſt deſire of ſeeing Celadon again; but it is, becauſe I am afraid I have not courage enough to obſerve all that you ſhall perhaps command me; but if you will be pleaſed to tell me firſt, what you would have me to do, I ſhall prepare my ſpirit for it. In that (anſwered ſhe) I ſhall eaſily ſatisfie oou, and tell you, that in the firſt place, you and I muſt retire our ſelves into ſome place within the wood, where none can come to moleſt our armorous miſtery: O heavens (ſaid I and interrupted her) I am certain this is impoſſible for me to do; if you do put me to go alone with you unto the place where you will make your figures and characters, and where perhaps you will uſe ſome black inchantment, I am afraid my ſpirit will be troubled as well as the air, which you perhaps will darken, and the images which you preſent unto my eyes, will be ſo affrighting, that they will make me die before I can ſee poor Celadon.

Let that be the leaſt of your fears (ſaid ſhe unto me) for what I ſhall do will not offend the air, nor ſhall the Sun grow dark; but on the contrary, the flowers ſhall appear more beautiful, and you ſhall ſee every thing ſmile at the pleaſure which you will receive; but you muſt be alone, for it is to be feared, that in the [Page] habit wherein Celadon will appear unto you, he will be aſhamed to be ſeen by any ſtrang eye: why (ſage Nimph, (ſaid I unto her) do you think the goaſt of Celadon will be offended at the preſence of Alexis? Leonide ſeeming as if ſhe thought letter upon it: I beleive (replied ſhe) that the good will you have unto her will rather be pleaſing unto Celadon then offenſive, and therfore I think though you ſhould invite her unto this ceremony, it will be no hindrance unto it: well (ſaid I unto her) ſo my Miſtreſs be there, I will go whereſoever you pleaſe, nor ſhall I fear any thing as long as you will let me be in her Company: Let us then ſee (ſaid Leonide whether ſhe will conſent unto it; and afterwards we will go about the buſineſs.

Upon this I went unto her, as you might obſerve I did: I proteſt ſiſter, (ſaid Diana) I did not obſerve it: For as I believe, it was at the ſame time when I was talking with Silvander: right, ſiſter, replied Aſtrea, I ſaw Silvander then with you: but to continue the diſcourſe which I began: I told you that I went unto Alexes; who as you heard before; was walking about the Room, and looking upon ſome Pictures: As ſoon as I came unto her, Miſtreſs, (ſaid I unto her) I come to aske your aduice, and beſeech your aſſiſtance in a buſineſs which much concern me. Servant, anſwered ſhe, you may command me any thing, and you need not doubt but I ſhall do it with all my heart; But I am afraid (ſaid I unto her,) that the prayer which I ſhall make unto you will not be pleaſing, becauſe perhaps you will think, that it does ſomething contradict my duty unto you; Noe (ſaid ſhe) for be certaine, I ſhall take any thing in good part that proceeds from you; will you promiſe me Miſtreſs, (ſaid I) that it ſhall not diſpleaſe you, and that you will lend me a little of your courage, to execute my deſign? I doe promiſe (anſwered ſhe) to give you, not only my courage, but my ſelf alſo, if it will any thing conduce unto your contentment: Is is moſt eſſentially neceſſary (ſaid I unto her) for Miſtreſs, be pleaſed to know; That Leonide having read, perhaps in my ſoul, that there are yet ſome of thoſe flames which Celadon kindled, unextinguiſhed; and ſeeing that I am to go with you amongſt the virgine Druides, ſo for ever leave thoſe places where the preſence of my ſhepheards were ſo pleaſing unto me, ſhe is reſolved before my departure, to give me the delight of once more ſeeing his Image. I obſerved, dear ſiſter, that as ſoon as ever Alexis heard my propoſition, ſhe bluſh't; and preſently after, thoſe Roſes in her cheecks vaniſhing, ſhe grew as pale as one upon whom the doom of death had paſſed: but not being able to divine the reaſon; I asked her, from whence that alteration which I obſerved in her might proceed: at the firſt, ſhe was extreamly put unto it for an anſwer: but at laſt ſhe ſaid unto me, I aſſure you ſervant, the deſign of Leonide does exceedingly affright me and I cannot comprehend what invention ſhe can uſe to ſatisfie your curioſitie. Oh Miſtreſs (ſaid I unto her) did you but know what things ſhe has already tole me, and how ſhe can when ſhe pleaſes; panetrate into the moſt hiden ſecrets of a ſoul, you would ceaſe your wonder: I was at the firſt as much amaſed as you are: but when ſhe told me all the particulars of my life which certainly none elſe but the gods, Celadon, and my ſelf, could know, I thought that what ſhe promiſed me was noe more impoſſible then the reſt. For my part (ſaid Alexis, and was much troubled) I ſhal do what ſoever you would have me; but I conceive it very good, that before you engage your ſelf any farther in the matter, you prepare your ſelf for any vexatious accident that may happen unto you, for I can tell with what eye you wil behold this ſhepheard: perhaps he wil appear unto you ſo diſpleaſing, as you wil hate him, as much as now you imagine you love him: ſhould it ſo happen that any of your thoughts ſhould procure unto him that diſcontent, doubtleſs it wil drive him into a ſecond diſpair: a thouſand times worſe then the firſt: That would be a means to loſe him eternally without any hopes that any art of magique is ever able to raiſe him again from the place unto which his ſoul ſhal retire it ſelf. Miſtreſs (ſayd I unto her) I do not ſo much fear my hatred wil drive him away, as I doubt whether my love wil retain him; But ſince this officious Leonide, wil do me the favour to ſhew him unto me, though but for a quarter of an houre, I beſeech you do not hinder me [Page] of the delight which I expect: upon this with tears, in my eyes, I innocently took her hand, and kiſſing it a hundred times, I carryed her unto the Nimph, who underſtanding that Alexis conſented to go with me, did place her ſelf betwixt us; and when Bellinde, and you were gone out, ſhe carried us into the wood, where I received the moſt ſenſible diſpleaſure, that ever poor innocent, harmleſs woman ever reſented.

Upon theſe words, Aſtrea began to weep, and ſo violently, that ſhe was forced to leave of diſcourſe; and Diana beginning; I proteſt ſiſter, (ſaid ſhe unto her, it was about the very ſame time that I alſo was afflicted with the moſt bitter pill of ſorrow, that ever I received; but if you deſire I ſhould relate it unto you, I pray do not leave me in a languiſhing deſire of knowing what was the event of your buſineſs, that I may mingle my tears with yours, and that our afflictions being participated, they may the more eaſily be endured: I beſeech your ſiſter, replied Aſtrea, to excuſe the exceſs of my ſorrow, and do not wonder it ſhould hinder my ſpeech, ſince it is enough to take away my life.

But before my ſorrowes reduce me to that extremitie, I wil relate unto you the reſt of this adventure. Upon this Aſtrea was ready to proceed when ſhe heard the voice of Phillis who now knowing where her Companions, were went al over to ſeek them; and was now ſinging a ſonge which Licidas gave unto her the day before. Thus this ſheapheardeſs went on ſinging, little thinking ſhe had ſo much cauſe of ſorrow, in the behalf of her Companions: As ſoon as ſhe had ended her ſong ſhe came unto the tree under which Aſtrea and Diana ſate ſo as ſhe ſpied them: At the firſt, ſhe advanced towards them with a face full of joy: But when ſhe ſaw their countenances ſo full of ſorrow, ſhe was amaſed; therefore ſhe ſerted her ſelf down by them without ſpeaking a word, and not knowing which of the two ſhe ought to ſpeak unto, ſo equally were they both dejected, for a long while together ſhe did nothing but look upon them, ſometimes upon one, and ſometimes upon the other; at laſt loſſing al patience, my dear Companions (ſaid ſhe unto then) do you only counterfeit this ſadneſs to make me afraid, or have you any real reaſons for your being ſo melancholly? Alas ſiſter, ſaid Aſtrea with a deep ſigh) any affliction is but too real, and arived to the higheſt point it poſſibly can. And mine (ſaid Diana) is nothing different from yours; for it is in the higheſt degree: you cannot find (replied Phillis) a more competent judge in this matter, nor one more equitable then my ſelf, if the laves of our friendſhip wil but al [...]ow you to relate unto me what it is which makes you thus ſad: For my part (ſaid Astrea) I ſhal quickly do it, for when you came, I was then began to make the diſcourſe of it unto Diana; and I beleive ſhe wil be as willing to relate her baſineſs unto you; upon this ſhe began to make a ſhort repetition of al that ſhe had told Diana, and afterwards continued thus: Now my Companions you muſt know, that whilſt we were going unto the thick of the wood, Alexis appeared to be very timerous & by her countenance ſeemed as if ſhe had much rather have gone to her death then to the place, where I hoped to receive ſome aſſiſtance from her: her pace was ſlow, and her leggs fainted, and there was no more colour in her face then in that of Adraſtes when he was diſtracted: I who took notice of it, and ſaw her every moment to faint more and more, Miſtreſs (ſaid I unto her) I thought my ſelf the moſt faint hearted woman in the world: but for ought I ſee, you are no more courageous then I am. Truly ſervant (ſaid Alexis to me, I do know ſo little whither Leonide will carry us, nor what ſhe intends to do with us, with this incertainty does amaſe me, and makes me doubt whether the place where ſhe will carry us, will prove a place of torment or a place of happineſs unto me. I believe, (ſaid I) we ſhall quickly know that, for we are already under ſuch a ſhade of trees whoſe leaves are ſo thick, that there is hardly light enough to know our faces: and to facilitate her enterpriſe, ſhee has found out a place to obſerve, that ſhe cannot find the like in all the wood: The place (ſaid Alexis) is indeed very ſolitarie, and I cannot conceive how it is poſſible Leonide ſhould preſent you with any pleaſing object in it: So ſhe perform her promiſe (anſwered I) and ſhew me Celadon, I ſhall be contented, and what horrour ſoever the place does promiſe, doubtleſs it [Page] will all vaniſh upon the firſt appearance of my ſhepherd: Are you then fully contented, replied ſhe, that he ſhould appeare before you: ſo fully contented, anſwered I, that I do command it a thouſand times, and I did never deſire to ſee any thing ſo paſſionately in all my life as I do to ſee him, ſince it is ſo (ſaid Alexis unto me with a more confident countenance then before) let us go faireſt Aſtrea, unto the place where heaven, by the mouth of Leonide is to pronounce the ſentence of our felicitie: I who thought that ſhe ſpoke of our being admitted amongſt the Carnutes, and ſtayed by nothing but my deſire of ſeeing Celadon, once more before I went; Let us go Miſtreſſe (anſwered I) unto the place where heaven wil free me from all obſtacles of my felicity. In ſaying ſo, I obſerved that Leonide ſtopt, and turning her ſelf towards us with a voice more loud, and a tone more grave then ordinary, ſhe ſaid thus unto us: Here Aſtrea, is the place where the gods have ordained that Celadon ſhall be reſtored unto you: be ſure you be very attentive unto the ceremonie, and reſolve with your ſelf to keep ſilence for a while, leaſt you ſhould prophane it with your words: upon this▪ ſhe began to open her book; and kneeling on the ground with her left knee, her face turned towards the ſun riſing, ſhe took a knife out of her pocket, and engraved ſome characters; then pronounced ſome words which I underſtood not, after this ske roſe up, and coming to us; Remember Aſtrea (ſaid ſhe unto me) you punctually obſerved all that I ſhall command you: be ſure you faile not in the leaſt tittle upon pain of offending thoſe ſpririts, whoſe aſſiſtance I have invoked: In ſaying ſo, ſhe turned her ſelf towards the Eaſt, afterwards towards the South, then the Weſt, and laſt of all towards the North, and at every removal muttered ſomething: At laſt ſhe came unto me, and after ſhe had made a circle upon the ground, Stand here fair Aſtrea (ſaid ſhe unto me,) and prepare your ſelf to receive far greater contentment then ever you had: Afterwards turning her ſelf towards Alexis, and placing her in another circle: Oh ye moſt puiſſant gods (ſaid ſhe in a loud voice) ye who command the deſtinyes, eſpecially thou puiſſant god of Love, by whoſe favour I do put a ſecret into practice which was never known unto any mortall, but only Adamas: oh ye moſt bleſſed ſp [...]rits, who do enjoy thoſe pleaſures which does produce an inviolable amity: oh ye gods! oh love! oh ye ſpirits! I do call you all for witneſſes, or rather for authors of this miracle, and conjure you to reſtore back unto the ſhepherdeſſe Aſtrea, the Image, or rather the perſon of Celadon: upon this, looking upon me with a ſmiling countenance, and coming to me with a very grave pace; I perceive (ſaid ſhe unto me) that the only reaſon why Celadon does not preſent himſelf before you, is becauſe you did forbid him ever appearing in your preſence untill you did command him; Will you therefore be pleaſed to command him? I will ſage nimph, (anſwered I) did I but know in what manner, and in what termes I ſhould pronounce it. To ſave you that pains, replied Leonide, do you only repeat what I ſhall ſay: Then ſhe beginning in a loud voice, Celadon, Celadon, ſaid I after her, I command you (ſaid ſhe) I command you (ſaid I after her) to preſent your ſelf before me (ſaid ſhe) to preſent your ſelf before me (ſaid I) after this, firſt looking upon me, and then upon Alexis. Now fair Aſtrea (ſaid ſhe) do you not ſee Celadon? I ſee nothing yet (anſwered I) then was I afraid, that to puniſh me for the offence which I had committed againſt his love he would deprive me of the Joyes of asking him pardon: Then I caſt my eye upon Alexis, and ſeeing her in a trembling poſture, perhaps Miſtreſſe (ſaid I unto her) that you do ſee him: Alas, alas, anſwered ſhe) indeed I do ſee him, and touch him, but as ſoon as ever ſhe had ſaid ſo, her voice failed her; and Leonide ſpeaking, probably Aſtrea (ſaid ſhe) you have failed in ſomething which I commanded you, though not in words yet perhaps in thoughts. I aſſure you, fair Nimph (ſaid I unto her) I do not think I have failed in either. Then having made me repeate theſe words three times over; Celadon I command you upon pain of my diſpleaſure, to preſent your ſelf before me: Oh heavens! my Companions, what ſhall I ſay! I ſaw wretch that I am Alexis, or rather Celadon proſtrate at my feet, and kiſſing them, here, my faireſt Aſtrea (ſaid he unto me) here is your ſon whom the waters have ſpared and could not extinguiſh the [Page] leaſt ſpark of his zealous flame. I who thought ſtill that it was Alexis, oh Miſtreſs, (ſaid I unto her and embraced her) could you be ſo cruel as mock me thus? Faireſt Aſtrea (replied Celadon) it is not now fit I ſhould be called your Miſtreſſe, it is glorie enough for me to bear the name of your moſt humble ſervant: and in teſtimony that formerly that honour was conferred upon me, ſee here (ſaid he and pulled out the ſame riband which he ſnatched from her the ſame day he caſt himſelf into Lignon) this is the laſt teſtimony of your anger. Then opening the caſe wherin my Picture was, and preſenting it unto me: be not ſo ungratefull, (ſaid he) as to dilown your own fair face; and though I be ſo unfortunate as to be worn out of your knowledge, yet do not execute your rigour upon your ſelf; upon this he was ſilent, and his ſilence was ſuch a cauſe of mine, as I ſtood ſtill, and was not able to utter one ſillable.

Truely (ſaid Phillis and interrupted) I do not wonder at it, for well may you be ſurpriſd, when we that only hear of it can hardly tell whether it be a dream or a truth: Alas (ſaid Aſtrea) it is but too true, that this cruel traytor thus betrayed me: And to make it only a dream, I would it would pleaſe the gods I might ſleep an eternall ſleep, why, why? replied Diana, are you troubled at the knowledge of that which you ſo paſſionately deſired? I did not think (anſwered Astrea) that it would ere have been ſo diſadvantageous to me, nor that it was poſſible it ſhould fall out ſo: I was ignorant of Leonides artifice and of Celadons triumphing over my innocence under a pretence of Alexis nor did I think that Nimph would have abuſed my credulity under couler of a ſcience which was never known unto her. However it be replied Phillis, it is very happy newes that Celadon is alive, and will be no ſmale Joy unto my Licidas, However it be, anſwered Aſtrea; it is a misfortune unto me to be thus deceived, and that this perfideous ſhepheard ſhould be the cauſe of a thouſand crimes which I have committed to the great hazard of my reputation. I do not believe (ſaid Diana) that any in the world has any cauſe to blame your actions: But if any be ſo malicious as to condemn you, you have a good way to ſtop their mouthes by marrying Celadon, who I? (ſaid Aſtrea in a great rage) perhaps he is out of the world by this. How? ſaid Phillis, what ſhould take him out of it? have you committed a ſecond fault, after you payed ſo dear for the firſt. I do not think (anſwered Aſtrea,) I committed any fault when I teſtified my reſſentments againſt him for deceiving me. For god ſake ſiſter (ſaid Diana) let us have the full relation of the matter. I will, replied the ſhepherdeſs, provided that Phillis will afterwards Judge without paſſion, whether I had not reaſon to do as I did. Proceed then, ſaid Phillis, and doubt not but I ſhall freely tell you my opinion. Then Aſtrea continued her diſcourſe thus.

As ſoon as I had caſt my eyes upon my Picture, upon the ring and the riband which Celadon preſented unto me, I fixed my looks upon him, and did ſo perfectly know his face, as I wondered I ſhould be ſo long miſtaken: At the firſt, I was upon the point to embrace him, and to follow the firſt ſuggeſtion of my love: but then calling preſently to memory the condition wherein he had ſeen me, the favours he had received from me, and how I had given him liberty to kiſſe my cheek, my neck; my eyes and my mouth, this put me into ſuch a confuſion, as I ſtood immovable; then did a combate begin in my ſoul betwixt love and reaſon; pity took part with one of them, and honour the other; love pleaded the exſtream obedience of the ſhepherd, his inviolable fidelity, his paſſion, and his fortune; and pity would needs perſwade me to put an end unto his miſeryes. But reaſon and honour did cleerly demonſtrate unto me the bad deſigns he had cloaked under this diſguiſe, and commanded me to do ſome act which might teſtifie to the world that I was in no wiſe an acceſſory unto that diſguiſment: In concluſion I fixed upon this laſt reſolution, and entring into a greater anger againſt him then ever I was, not conſidering how long he had been upon his knees, nor ſo much as bidding him to riſe: cruel wretch, (ſaid I unto him) that has attempted againſt my honour, and who with inſufferable impudence durſt yet preſent himſelf before that perſon who has all the reaſon in the world to hate thee; how canſt thou forbear bluſhing at thy arrogant boldneſs? Perfideous [Page] and deceitfull Alexis, no leſs then death can expiate thy crime; How couldeſt thou find malice enough to betray me? upon this, ſhaking of his Arm as well as I could, I began to fly from him: but he holding me by my coat: Alas fair Aſtrea, (ſaid he unto me) I did not expect from your rigour, a reception more favorable: I knew my fault did deſerve a puniſhment as great; but ſince it is my fate to die, and ſince your own faireſt ſelf hath doomed it ſo: I beſeech you even for pities ſake, to tell me what kind of death it is your pleaſure I ſhould die, to the end my repentance and obedience which I will tender unto you in that laſt moment, may in ſome ſort ſatisfie your anger: I muſt confeſſe, the tone wherein he ultered theſe expreſſions did moſt ſenſibly move me, and I was even ready to yeild unto the ſuggeſtions of compaſſion: but being already fully reſolved to do ſome violence, not only upon him, but upon my ſelf, I ſeemed to be very obſtinate in my firſt deſign; and pulling my coat away from him by force: Die what death thou wilt, (ſaid I unto him) ſo I may be no more troubled with thee. Upon this I left him, and Leonide followed me ſome twenty or thirty paces; but ſeeing that Celadon took another way, ſhe lift me to follow him, being unwilling, as I beleive, to forſake him in that ſad affliction wherein I left him. As ſoon as they were out of ſight, I began to diſpute with my ſelf, whether I had done well or ill: and in the time that I was coming hither, I think I did a hundred times approve of my actions, and a hundred times repent I ever did it: but finding no way to revoke what I had ſaid, and not being able to put out of my mind thoſe favours which his diſguiſement had obtained from me; at laſt I ſeated my ſelf under this tree, where, when Diana came unto me, I had began to lament both my own fortune and Celadons.

Thus Aſtrea ended the diſcourſe of all the paſſages which hapned unto her in the new acquaintance that ſhe had with her ſhepherd: and Phillis, who was extreamly greived that the cruelty of her Companions had impoſed upon Celadon a more dangerous penance then ſhe firſt: Siſter (ſaid ſhe unto her) I do not wonder, nor ſhall hardly pity you; if you ſuffer any more miſery, and if heaven ſhould condemn you unto ſome now ſubject of grief: for I profeſſe you have moſt ſtrange, odd, and perticular wayes to bring ſorrow upon your ſelf, and ſuch as I believe no other but your ſelf would ere have thought upon; Fie, fie, what neceſſity was there to drive away this ſhepherd from you again? If you did think thereby to ſtop the mouths of ſuch as might accuſe you of any crime, did you not plainly ſee there was no neceſſity of any ſuch extreams, ſince the authority of Adamas was enough to free you from all ſuſpition? Ah ſiſter (anſwered Aſtrea though there be ſome likly hood that Adamas does know ſome of theſe paſſages, yet am I not aſſured that he does: and to tell you truly, I never thought upon him; I was taken upon ſuch a ſudden, and my judgment ſo ſurpriſed and intangled, that it was very hard for me to entertain any other conſiderations, then ſuch as prompted me to condemn this ſhepherd of the greateſt treaſon he could ere commit againſt me: Well, well, replied Phillis, perhaps ere long, heaven will let you know the ſecret of all this buſineſs, to the end you may be tormented with more ſenſible remorſe, For ſo ill uſing the favour that was ſhewed you, in rendring Celadon again, Mean while, becauſe I will not be ſo uncharitable as you, I will go and think upon ſome means which may prevent that ſhepherd from doing any harm unto himſelf, and acquaint Lycidas with all that hath hapned.

Upon this, never ſtaying to hear the anſwer of Aſtrea, nor what Diana promiſed to tell her, ſhe roſe up and went towards the houſe where ſhe thought to find Lycidas. Aſtrea and Diana began to follow her, and conceiving that as they went, they had time enough to talk of their buſineſs; Diana began to relate almoſt word for word all the diſcourſe which Paris and ſhe had together, ſhe told her of Silvanders deſpair, and laſtly of Bellindes command upon her: and having throughly informed her of all, ſhe proceeded thus: Now ſiſter, to open unto you the very cloſſet of my ſoul, I muſt freely tell you, that I have nothing ſo great an averſion to be marryed unto my grave, then unto Paris; Not that I have any cauſe to hate him, nor ſo little Judgment as not to know what honour [Page] and advancement it would be unto me: but to confeſs ingeniouſly, I do love Silvander better; and though nature has put an inequality betwixt them, yet beleive me, love is revenged, ſince the ſame advantages which birth gives unto Paris above Silvander, my affection does give them unto Silvander above Paris. See how heaven does play with me: in giving me an inclination unto one, whom I muſt not pretend unto, and an averſion unto him, to whom I muſt be ſacrifiſed. Your misfortune (ſaid Astrea) is not yet comparable unto mine: For in the accidents of your life nothing has hapned which can wound your reputation: whereas in the diſguiſement of Celadon, the moſt innocent of my actions may with ſome colourable pretence be taken for a crime. Beſides; whether you marry Paris, or Silvander, yet fortune offers you ſome hopes of contentment: But whether I do marry Celadon, or never ſee his face again, yet ſtill I muſt bear all the faults that every evel ſpirit can charge me withall: But (ſaid ſhe and ſighed,) I am reſolved ere long to find out the remedy which diſpair uſes to teach ſuch ſouls as cannot bear them. Upon this ſhe was ſilent and Diana began: Companion (ſaid ſhe unto her) you do find your miſery to be greater then mine, becauſe you think it ſo: But I do find mine to be greater then yours, becauſe I know them to be more ſtinging: aſſure your ſelf the cauſes which make any calamity intolerable, are more eaſily to be found in my affliction, then in yours: For as the ſtate ſtands with me, I have the ſame diſpleaſure which you have, which is not to enjoy the perſon whom I love yet I have one which you know not, which is, that I am conſtrained to ſubmit my ſelf unto the tyranny of her who can diſpoſe of me: yet ſiſter, I am reſolved as well as you, to have recourſe unto that common remedy which cannot be denied unto any; and I will ſooner die then pronounce that fatal word, Yes, which will be the firſt munite of my miſery.

With ſuch diſcourſe as this, theſe fair ones came ſo nere the Druides houſe, that they perceived Lycidas coming out with Phillis, and ſeemed by his countenance to have ſome very earneſt buſineſs in hand: Aſtrea deſired Diana to ſtep a little aſide, and avoide the meeting them, which Diana eaſily conſented unto; and they went into a by walk, on the ſide of that where they were to paſs, and hiding themſelves behind a buſh; It was not long before they heard Lycidas walk a great pace, and ſay: but Phillis, do you not know from that cruel woman, in what place this tragedy is to be? I proteſt, anſwered ſhe, it is the only thing I have forgot; But look well about you, perhaps we ſhall meet Leonide, and ſhe can tell us all. Oh heavens, replied Lycidas (and haſted away) if Aſtrea would, ſhe might ſpare me all this pains; But I think, ſhe was born to be the ruine of our houſe. This was the laſt word they could hear; and when they thought them out of ſight, they came out again; And were no ſooner entred into the great walk, but they ſaw Phillis returning alone: They therefore ſtayed for her; and as ſoon as the was come unto them: Well Phillis (ſaid Aſtrea unto her) I beleive Lycidas is very angry with me; has he not good reaſon? (anſwered Phillis) do you think he has ſo little intereſt in Celadon, as not to hate all thoſe that are the cauſe of his ruine? Alas ſiſter (replied Astrea) I muſt confeſs that I was the cauſe of his firſt being loſt, and that I was to blame in condemning him ſo lightly; But now he may blame himſelf for his misfortune: unto whom can be impute any fault, but unto his own ſcurvy humour which moved him ſo indiſcreetly to obtain a thouſand favours from my innocency, under a falſe diſguiſement? Indeed Phillis the preſervation of this ſhepherd ought to be very dear unto me; But my honour ought to be no leſs conſidered: you have ſeen how oft he has imbraced and kiſſed me, inſolently abuſing the liberty which I gave him under the notion of Alexis, and whereof I might have been blamed had it been from the perſon of Celadon: Not but that I beleive I ſhould in a little time have pardoned the offence; But when I call to memory the Image of things paſt, I am ſo tranſported, as I could ordain him a worſe puniſhment, then I have, if I could think upon it ſiſter (ſaid Phillis) is this your repentance for diſtroying Celadon before? Come come Astrea, you had better abate ſomething of your rigour, then be put to the pains you were before. Siſter replied Aſtrea, thoſe that can temper their paſſions and motions, are more then Men: we are all too weak [Page] to have that dominion over our ſelves: we muſt, whether we will or no, obſerve ſuch lawes as our paſſions will impoſe upon us: we cannot upon a ſudden foreſee ſuch accidents as may happen: Do you think, if at that inſtant, honour had told me. Celadon was unworthy to live, can you think I ſay; that I ſhould repent bidding him die? No no: beleive me, but on the contrary, I ſhould have thought, that I owed ſuch a revenge unto my reputation, and ſhould have been glad to have preſerved it, at the rate of that very ſhepherds life; But on the other ſide, (ſaid Phillis) perhaps you would not have been angry with him, but have received him with Joy, a little before Leonide preſented him unto you. I wiſh, anſwered Aſtrea, that he had never undertaken to delude, and deceive me, that I might without any harm unto my ſelf, have paid what I owed unto that affection which he bore me: but ſince that misfortune is hapned, I muſt confeſs that what regret ſoever I reſent, I cannot condemn my ſelf for wha [...] I have done.

In ſaying ſo, Aſtrea went forward, as being deſirous to retire into the houſe becauſe it began to grow late: But Diana, who obſerved it, and who had no leſs horror to that place then to a dark Dangron, having no mind to go into it till the obſcurity of night did force it; Companion (ſaid ſhe unto her) me thinks we have yet time and light enough to go as far as the labyrinth; I beſeech you, let us go and walk ſo far as it. I will go, (anſwered Aſtrea) whither you pleaſe; Then they turned a little upon the left hand, and being entred into the walk which led that way, preſently they ſpied Leonide, coming a great pace, and having the countenance and garb of one that had ſome great cauſe of ſorrow. This wrought a ſtrange effect upon the ſoul of Aſtrea: for ſhe being in ſome hope that Leonide would hinder Celadon from attempting any harm unto himſelf, as ſoon as the ſaw her return alone, ſhe was even ready to fall down for greif. Firſt her greif appeared in her face, and afterwards beginning to ſigh; Oh my Companions (ſaid ſhe) yonder is Leonide coming to tell of Celadons death. That, anſwered Phillis, does not much trouble you, becauſe you deſired it, and did abſolutly command him to die. In ſaying ſo, the Nimph came ſo neare unto them, that they could eaſily perceive the trouble wherein her mind was; And becauſe Leonide was a little angry with Aſtrea for treating Celadon ſo ill, as ſoon as ſhe perceived her, ſhe offered to turn into another walk to avoid meeting with her; But Phillis ran after her, and entreated her to ſtay which ſhe condeſcending unto, as ſoon as ſhe came into the preſence of Aſtrea; You have reaſon (ſage Nimph) ſaid the ſhepherdeſs unto her) to ſhun the Company of a miſerable woman, who yet has more cauſe to complain againſt you then you have to hate her; You have reaſon to complain againſt me, (ſaid Leonide a little faintly) as againſt one who has taken abundance of cure and pain to procure you a happineſs which you have rejected, and which you will never enjoy; For the gods are moſt juſt, and will puniſh your cruelty by ſome ſtrange chaſtiſements. The gods, replied Aſtrea, do know my ſoul, and all my thoughts: It they do find any crime there, I do not refuſe any chaſtiſement they will impoſe upon me: But I am moſt confident they will compaſſionate my innocency, and will not find any cauſe to condemn me. None of all this diſcourſe (ſaid Phillis) is ſatisfaction to my mind: I would gladly know where Celadon is: and therefore, good Leonide, tell me. Do you know then (anſwered Leonide) that Celadon is alive? I do know (replied Phillis) ſome part of this dayes paſſage, and how cruelly this peeviſh peice condemned him the ſecond time unto diſpair. Since ſo (ſaid the Nimph) I will acquaint you with what has hapned unto him ſince, that you may judge whether Aſtrea have any cauſe to complain againſt me: upon this, Leonide ſate down upon the graſs, and Diana, Aſtrea, and Phillis ſitting about her, the Nimph began thus; Did I not ſe the day almoſt done, and that I have not time enough to ſay much, I would ſatisfie you all in every doubt that can ariſe in your minds, concerning the life which Celadon hath led ſince he was taken out of the water; But refferring the relation of that Hiſtory untill we have more time, I will tell you, that as ſoon as ever Aſtrea parted from us, I ran after Celadon; and quickly overtaking him becauſe he did not think I followed, and taking hold of his arme, as if I had ſome [Page] fears he was in a condition to do himſelf ſome harm: Shepherd ſaid I unto him, Aſtrea commands you to live and to love her: he was a little ſurprized at this: for as I told you, he did not dream I was ſo near him, ſince he ſaw me go after Aſtrea; but turning himſelf towards me, and gazing upon me with a ſtrange amazment; Aſtrea, anſwered he, does not deſire that I ſhould live, for ſhe has commanded me to die; and ſhe does me wrong in commanding me to love her, for maugre her ſharpeſt rigour, my ſoul cannot chuſe but adore her more religiouſly then ever. I muſt confeſſe I wondered to ſee him ſo calmly compoſed, for I expected to find him all fury; but yet ſtill fearing the worſt: Celadon, ſaid I, I tell you nothing but what Aſtrea her ſelf will ſay, if you will take ſo much pains as to ſee her again: who I? cried he and ſtarted back, alas Leonide it is not in my power: you heard the ſentence which ſhe pronounced againſt me, it is my full intent to execute it; nor do I make the leaſt dor at it. I am at all times ready to obſerve all her ordinances, and the delight I ſhall take in living, is not ſo great as that which I ſhall take in obeying her; but replied I, what do you think will become of me? can you imagine that I will leave you in this tranſport? aſſure your ſelf Celadon I will not, but will hinder you as much as poſſibly I can from doing any harm unto your ſelf: Sage Nymph, anſwered he, though you do not intend to leave me, yet the night will force you unto it, and will be more prevalent with you then all my entreaties; nor will I take much pains to ſollicite you, the horrour of darkneſſe and ſolitude of theſe woods will not agree with the ſoft and tender mind of a woman, and therefore you ought to value your own ſafty and reſt, above mine, and not to be more careful in preventing my death, then in preſerving your own life: all this will not do, ſaid I unto him, for I am reſolved upon it, and will not part from you as long as you are in ſo bad a humour. If the horrour of this ſolitude do beget any fears in my ſoul, I hope the gods will enable me to overcome them.

In this you are much miſtaken, anſwered he preſently, for the beſt office that you can do unto me, is to let me do as the juſtice of Aſtrea hath commanded: believe it Leonide, that Shepherdeſſe never was, nor never ſhall be, diſobeyed by me: give me leave therefore to do as ſhe did bid me, and give her no cauſe to hate you for hindering me.

Whilſt he was uſing all theſe perſwaſive arguments unto me, I called into my memory the words which you ſpoke unto him in the heat of your anger, and conceiving I had found out a good invention to comfort him: Celadon (ſaid I unto him) I will not hinder you from rendring unto your Shepherdeſſe all that obedience which you do ow unto her; but withal, I would not have you go beyond it, nor to afflict your ſelf in imagining ſuch things as never were: I pray let us ſee what it was which ſhe commanded, and if we conſider well upon it, we ſhall find no great cauſe of complaint: nor (ſaid he) will I ſo much as murmure againſt it: it is ſufficient I know, ſhe would have me out of the world; and death being the only way, I muſt, I ought, and I will take it. I do not think (ſaid I unto him) ſhe ever had any ſuch thought, for if ſhe had, ſhe would have otherwiſe expreſſed her ſelf. I do believe indeed, her intention was to ſhew you how much ſhe was aſhamed at her being ſo deceived, and at her affording you ſome, perhaps, over particular privacies; but when any matter of pennance came into queſtion, believe it Celadon ſhe never intended any unto you: To whom then (ſaid he) to Alexis, anſwered I: ah Leonide (replied he preſently) you are much miſtaken, I did ſo clearly read in the face of Aſtrea her deſires and intention to ruine me, that if ſhe did name Alexis in lieu of Celadon, it was only becauſe that name was more frequent in her mouth then mine; but however it was, I am ſure it was unto me ſhe ſpoke, it was me that ſhe condemned by the fury of her looks, and it was from me ſhe broke away with more hatred then if I had been ſome Tiger or ſome Satyr.

With ſuch expreſſions as theſe, he ſtill went further from me; and I ſeeing the night coming on, and knowing that as good a face as I ſet upon it, yet I was not able to undergo the horrours of the night; but good Celadon (ſaid I unto him) what is it that you reſolve upon? to conform my ſelf, anſwered he, unto that [Page] which Aſtrea hath commanded me. Then, ſaid I, you muſt not attempt any thing againſt your ſelf: for though ſhe did command you to die; yet ſhe did not command you to kill your ſelf. Upon this, he began to conſider a little; and when I ſaw, he did not anſwer me: I cannot conceive, ſaid I, that this command of hers ought to trouble you, no more then that command which Nature gave when you came into the world; for Nature, as ſoon as you began to live, did command you to die; and certainly, ſince Astrea did not aſſign you any time, you ought to ſtay till ſhe prefix it, or till the weakneſſe of your humanity, does exact from you that tribute which all creatures pay.

Fair Nymph, ſaid he then unto me, Aſtrea did not aſſign me any time, becauſe ſhe knew I ought to be as ready to execute her commands, as ſhe to pronounce them: queſtionleſſe ſhe meant the ſame day whereon ſhe let me know my fault, ſhould be the day whereon I ſhould be puniſhed: I do therefore conjure you not to croſſe my deſires any longer: tell that unthankful fair one (for doubtleſſe you will find her full of joy at my misfortune) that I dare not ſo much as grieve at my death, leſt my ſorrows ſhould provoke hers unto the like: aſſure her that of all the favours ſhe ever ſhewed me, I hold this for the greateſt, ſince in a moment ſhe has delivered me from all the torments ſhe was able to make me ſuffer: for when I am dead, that fair one will not be angry at me; but if by ill fortune her mind be not enough revenged, even for pities ſake move her to pardon the ſurplus of my crime. I would willingly come and do my pennance before her, but not having time, nor knowing how to do it better then in the loſſe of my life: Tell her, fair Nymph, that I am going to finiſh it for the love of her; and that as there is none but ſhe for whom I would live, ſo there is none but ſhe for whom I would dy.

Fair Shepherdeſſes; I muſt confeſſe that I heard all this, without ſaying any thing unto him: for my heart was ſo ſadly compaſſionate, that I could do nothing but dry up my tears which began to trickle down my cheeks: ſo as when I began to ſpeak, he interrupted me thus: but why am I ſo ſlack in ſuch a noble act? Why do I reſiſt the will of Aſtrea, who would have a freſh cauſe to condemn me, did ſhe know how I delay the pleaſure which ſhe will take in my death: Adieu fair Nymph, adieu ſage Leonide; be not, as Aſtrea is, inſenſible unto the motions of compaſſion. Give me leave, I beſeech you to ſteal one poor kiſſe upon your fair hand, in aſſurance that you will obtain one from the Shepherdeſſe, or at the leaſt, that you will take ſo much pains as to ask it, as a teſtimony that ſhe will forget all my offences: upon this, O how ſad my ſoul is to think upon it, he took my hand, and having lifted it to his lips three times, he ran away from me as faſt as ever he could, and though I made as much haſte after him as poſſibly I could, yet I loſt the ſight of him preſently: This accident made me almoſt mad; I knew not what to do: I was out of all hopes to find him, and yet I could not find in my heart to return without him. At laſt, in this confuſion of thoughts, one while apprehending the harm that might happen unto him, and another while blaming your too ſudden rigour, I ſaw the day did bid farewel to the world: ſo ſeeing no poſſible remedy againſt this diſaſter, I returned back, ſtill calling Alexis, Alexis, Celadon, Celadon; but hearing none return any anſwer unto my call, my ſorrows began to be almoſt intollerable, and imprinted in my face ſuch ſigns of death, as doubtleſſe you ſaw, when firſt I came unto you.

Such was the diſcourſe of Leonide, which infuſed ſuch ſtrange affrights into the mind of Aſtrea, that ſhe was even rady to run out of her wits, her eye was not at this time able to drop a tear: for her heart was ſo infinitly oppreſſed with ſorrow, as it was impoſſible ſhe ſhould weep; but in exchange, ſighs and groans iſſued in ſuch abundance, as did quite take away the liberty of ſpeech: Phillis, who knew the humour of her companion, and feared leſt this laſt diſpair of Celadon ſhould drive her into diſpair alſo, ſhe reſolved to apply ſome remedy: fair Nymph, ſaid ſhe unto Leonide, ſince Licidas is abroad, I am very confident he will remedy all theſe diſorders, and will never return until he has ſet all ſtreight again, or at the leaſt, till he have ſhared in his brothers ſorrows. Alas, alas, ſiſter, ſaid Astrea, and could hardly ſpeak, it is to be feared that the fury of Celadon, will prevent the [Page] help of Licidas; or that the deſpair of the one ſurmounting the perſwaſions of the other, cannot ſave him from the ſame precipice, in which, perhaps, both are already fallen: And ſhould it be ſo, I ſhould be doubly criminal, by committing two murders in the perſon of Celadon, and in making my revenge to reach the innocence of Licidas.

Upon this, Leonide riſing, and taking Aſtrea by the hand, the very truth is (ſaid ſhe unto her) I cannot tell how to excuſe your cruelty; for indeed it has been extraordinary: but ſince you are not now in a condition to help it, I conceive it beſt to talk no more of this accident, unleſſe unto ſuch as are in a capacity to apply ſome remedy. Diana, Aſtrea, and Phillis, finding this motion to be good, all four took the way unto the houſe, and came thither juſt as Adamas had concluded the Articles of Paris his marriage: the conditions whereof were not ſo ſecretly carried, but ſome of the Domeſtiques came to know them, and divulging it frome one to another, the noiſe of it went through the houſe, and from thence into all the neighbouring Towns.

Belinde no ſooner ſaw Diana, but calling unto her, ſhe gave her an accompt of what was concluded upon with the Druide: at which the Shepherdeſſe was ſo ſurprized, that notwithſtanding all the good councel which her mother gave unto her, ſhe was ready to fall into a ſwound: yet being a perſon of a moſt admirable judgement, and diſcreet, above all the Shepherdeſſes in Forreſts, ſhe diſſembled her ſorrows as well as ſhe could, and addreſſing her ſelf unto Belinde; but Madam (ſaid ſhe unto ber) methinks the buſineſſe is done with a little too much precipitation: Daughter (anſwered Belinde) a good action can never be done too ſoon; beſides, I have not long time to ſtay here, for you know that my profeſſion calls me another way, and therefore this very night the marriage muſt be conſummated. As ſoon as ſhe had ſaid ſo, ſhe went unto her chamber to make ſome prayers unto Hymen for a proſperous event of this match, and left Diana alone.

This Shepherdeſſe, whoſe ſoul was over-ſwelled with ſorrow, ſhe would needs go immediatly out of the houſe, perhaps to do ſome deſperate act upon her ſelf; but Phillis, who was alſo by her ſelf, whilſt Adamas was talking unto Leonide and Aſtrea, ſhe ran unto her, and began to talk with her. Diana, who could not hide her diſpleaſure, though ſhe had been the cunningeſt woman in the world; and who beſides, knew that ſhe might confidently open her ſoul unto her companion, ſhe began to hold this diſcourſe, but with ſo many ſighs and tears, that Phillis was extreamly moved to pity her, and to wonder that Belinde ſhould ſo tyrannize over her will.

In the mean time Adamas who was very deſirous to hear of Leonides negotiation, and hearing what ſucceſſe ſhe had, O heavens, Aſtrea (cried he out) what do you mean? will you be the cauſe of the loſſe of the moſt amiable and faithful Shepherd that ever lived upon the banks of Lignon? Father (anſwered Aſtrea) it will not be long before you will be rid both of him and me: for if I be the cauſe of his death, he ſhall be the authour of mine, only it angers me that his way of treating me, hinders me from dying with honour: for I am extreamly afraid, there will be ſuch a blame upon me, for permitting him ſo many favours, unto which he would never have aſpired, unleſſe he had been faulty, both in his love and diſcretion. Daughter, replied Adamas, theſe faults whereof you accuſe him, are the perfections which might well make him hope for a better entertainment then he hath received from you; but he never failed either in his reſpect or in his love: and were you well acquainted with the actions of his life, doubtleſſe your opinion would concur with mine. Father, replied Aſtrea, I never enquired after him ſince he threw himſelf into Lignon: for never thinking he had eſcaped that danger, I thought upon him only as a perſon whom I did eſteem, and unto whom I had a greater inclination then the enmity that was between our Parents required. Well (ſaid the Druide) I will better inform you, as ſoon as I have commanded ſome to follow him. Lycidas, ſaid Aſtrea, is already gone to that purpoſe: it is enough, replied the Druide, for that Shepherd will not neglect any courſe that is requiſite for his preſervation: in ſaying ſo, he took Aſtrea [Page] by the hand, and leading her into a corner of the room, he commanded Leonide to go and entertain Diana and Phillis, and then began his di [...]urſe thus; I have told you, (my dear Daughter) ſo many paſſages of this ſhepherds paſſion, that though you had no other teſtimonies of his love then ſuch as I ſhall give you, it were enough to make you love him above all Men living: you think him deficient in his love, and in his diſcretion; but in the relation which I ſhall make, you will obſerve ſuch ſtrange teſtimonies, both of the one, and the other, as you will admire his conſtancy, and wonder at his virtue: You muſt not think Aſtrea, that I am ignorant of any accident in the whole courſe of your life: I have been inſtructed by him who cauſed, and reſented them, and who would not tell a lie for a world; And that you may not wonder why I have been ſo carefull for his preſervation; you muſt know, that the gods have linked the happineſs of my old age unto that which this ſhepherd is to enjoy; and the tranquility of my dayes is to be ſuch as I procure unto Celadon: Judge therefore whether I have not good cauſe to complain againſt you ſince you have ruined all my hopes, and under a ſcrupulous pretence of honour, you have put me into ſuch a condition, as never to enjoy any contentment in the world. Yet I dare not deſpair of the goodneſs in the gods, leaſt they ſhould render me unworthy of their bleſſings, and therefore I take all in good part, and reſign my ſelf wholly unto their wills: But that you may not accuſe Celadon, as any way acceſſary unto the misfortune that may happen unto me; but that on the contrary, all the fault may be imputed unto your rigour, I will acquaint you with her life ever ſince you baniſhed him from you.

You know very well Aſtrea, that then he threw himſelf into Lignon: But yet he was no drownd: for the current of the ſtream having caſt him upon the ſand on the other ſide of the river, he was ayded by Galathea, Silvia, and Leonide, who carried him ſecretly into the Pallace of Iſaures: then he related unto her the paſſionate affection of Galathea unto him; the lamentations which Celadon made when his letters were filched from him: his conſtraint in not knowing how to avoid the offers of the Nimph, his ſickneſs, his relappes, and in fine his coming in the habit and under the name and notion of Lucinde: After which he told her the life he began to lead in his ca [...]; the ſtratage [...] which Leonide invented to get him out; The laborious induſtry he uſed in erecting the Temple of the goddeſs Aſtrea: his raviſhments that morning when ſhe erected an emptie monument for him in the Company of all the ſhepherds and and ſhepherdeſſes of Lignon: and laſtly by what meanes he perſwaded him to paſs in the habit and name of Alexis: Now, ſaid Adamas and continued, you know better then I, all that has hapned unto him ſince. But that you may be no longer angry at him and your ſelf for permitting ſo many privacies, let me tell you, that thoſe things which another would have taken for high favours, he received them as extream puniſhments, and I have ſeen him ſo often afflicted and greived, as I have wiſhed a thouſand times that you had not ſo much affection to him as you expreſſed: And indeed Aſtrea, if you will but take ſo much paines as to examine your memorie, you will find, that it was you alwayes, which began to Carreſs and to kiſs, for I dare lay my life, he had rather have dyed then ever offer it; and he did reſtrain himſelf leaſt you ſhould ſuſpect any thing of his diſguiſment. This Daughter, has been the life of Celadon, whom you have moſt earneſtly deſired to enjoy; and of whom you have ſet ſo great a value, though now make no accompt of him when it is permitted you to obtain him. If heaven do help Lycidas to bring him backe, good Aſtrea promiſe me, to look upon him with a kind aſpect, and that you will forgive and forget all the injuries which you think he has comitted againſt you.

Aſtrea who did not forget one ſyllable of all the Druides diſcourſe, and who by the conſideration of ſo many ſucceſſes was confirmed in a belief that her ſhepherd was really innocent: Father (ſaid ſhe unto him) if Lycidas do bring him backe, which I do not expect, knowing how ſudden he is in all his reſolutions, I do promiſe to behave my ſelf towards him, as you will appoint me, and upon the leaſt ſign that I ſhall ſee of his repentance, I ſhall be ready to acknowledge, that as [Page] ſevere as I have been towards him, I will not here after be difficient▪ in the remuneration of all his ſervices.

Upon this promiſe, Adamas kiſſed her cheek, and carried her backe unto Leonide, Phillis, and Diana; then went into Bellindes Chamber to entreat her that the marriage might be deferred until the next day, when he thought he ſhould not have any cauſe of ſorrow, in hopes to hear good newes of Alexis. Unto which Bellinde conſenting, Diana was preſently advertiſed of it: who ſeeing his miſery one night further off, did a little leſſen that extream grief which hung upon her ſoul.

Thus did this day paſs in the houſe of Adamas, whilſt love produced contrarie effects in Marcelles. Amaſis was every day in hopes to obtain a firm and univerſall peace very ſhortly. Sigiſmond was raviſhed with thoſe charmes with he found in the face and affection of Dorinde: Roſilion fully aſſured of Roſaniras conſtancy and love was reſtleſs till he went to enjoy thoſe favours, which ſhe could not grant him, but in the preſence of her Argira. Damon was even upon the point of marriage with Madonthe, who thought ſhe owed her ſelf unto the merits and valour of her Cavelier: Alcidon found nothing in the mind of Daphnide to contend with, and waited for nothing but the diſenchantment of the foutain, to commemorate his joyes. Ligdamon, and Silvia alſo held good correſpondency: But amongſt all theſe felicities, the happineſs of Lindamor might paſs for extream.

This Cavelier being reſolved to follow the Counſel which Adamas gave him, he was no ſooner out of bed, but he went into Sigiſmonds Chamber, where finding Roſilion, who came to go a hunting with him, he was very glad to meet with this opportunity of talking with them when they were both together: So after he had bidden them good morrow, and told them that he would ſhew them the beſt places to find ſport: But Sirs (ſaid he unto them, and ſmiled:) If I do take upon me the honour to wait upon you in this chaſe, may I not hope you will be pleaſed to favour me in that which I do intend to purſue? Sigiſmond, who partly knew his meaning, (for Dorinde had told him ſome particulars of the Caveliers love) for my part (anſwered he) you need not doubt but I ſhall be moſt ready to ſerve you, and give all the aſſiſtance that poſſibly I can, provided you will but direct me which way. And for my part, (ſaid Roſilion preſently) I am moſt confident, that Lindamor makes no doubt of me; For he knows how much I eſteem him: Sirs replied Lindamor, I do embrace your good wills, as my moſt Soveraign happineſs, and I will aſſume the boldneſs to acquaint you with my buſineſs, that you may judge whether the aſſiſtance which I deſire from you be fit to be obtained. If I miſtake not (ſaid Sigiſmond) we have now leaſure to tell you, for I do not think we ſhall ſee the Nimph untill it be late. Yet Sirs (replied Lindamor) that is not the principal cauſe of my coming hither, for my deſign was only to come and preſent my moſt humble ſervice unto you: But ſince you are pleaſed I ſhould make uſe of this time, and that in relating unto you the moſt ſecret actions of my life, I ſhall let you know ſuch thoughts as my heart has harboured this two or three years laſt paſt: I do moſt humbly beſeech you not to condemn my preſumption, in ſuffering my ambition to ſoar far higher then eyther my merit or my birth ought to aſpire; but rather to believe that it is an effect of Galatheas power, who robbing me of my reaſon, has not left my judgment ſo ſound as it ought to be; but yet ſound enough to know that I am no way worthy of her. Give me then leave to tell you, great Sirs, that Adamas being pleaſed to take ſo much pains at to come unto my Chamber this morning, and like an officious and charitable friend, having propounded unto me ſome expedients to render me the proſſeſſion of this fair Nimph, the more eaſily, he found none more neceſſary nor more likely to prove effectuall, then your favours; upon which he adviſed me to build the foundation of my fortune: For (ſaid he unto me, if thoſe Princes will but honour you ſo far as to become your advocate, and intercede for you unto the Nimph, moſt certainly ſhe will deny them nothing they can ask. This, great Sirs, was the advice of this grave Druide, which without any farther diſpute, I am reſolved to follow, though I muſt confeſs, how great ſoever the neceſſity be of your aſſiſtance, yet it is grand preſumpſiton [Page] in me to offer ſo much trouble unto you. But ſince your flowing goodneſs towards me, bids me hope for the honour of your aſſiſtance, let me freely tell you, that the happineſs, or the miſery of my life, does meerly depend upon the confeſſion, or deniall of Amaſis, unto the requeſt which you ſhall prefer unto her in my behalf for the poſſeſſion of Galathea. And that you may know, your only difficulty is to obtain the conſent of that great Nimph, though it be a little vanity in me to ſay it, yet I muſt tell you that her fair complaſence towards me, does put me into great hopes of gaining her conſent.

Upon this, Lindamor began to relate ſome arguments of Galatheas good will; after he had hinted upon the moſt probable and remarkable accidents; Generous Lindamor (replied Roſilion) you need no other mediators in your behalf, but thoſe qualities which are eminent in your courage and virtue: they alone are able to acquire Empires, ſince they do adorn you with illuſtrious merit. However, I am moſt willing to take upon me this commiſſion with Sigiſmond and Godomar; who doubtleſs are better able to ſerve you, then I am: but however, I am infinitely deſirous to have the glory of contributing ſomething unto your contenment. T'is true indeed (anſwered Sigiſmond) I do not think that my brother and I, are altogether unproffitable; but I cannot grant that we have more prevalency then you, unto whom Amaſis is highly beholding. However it be (ſaid Godomar) we do all owe this office unto the valour of Lindamor: and I conceive it requiſite, that upon the firſt opportunity we find, we ſound the mind of Amaſis, who doubleſs will be inclinable unto it by way of recompence for all the great ſervices which ſhe hath received from him. Lindamor having committed the matter to them he accompanied them into the Nimphes Chamber, where Roſanira, Galathea, Daphnide, Madonthe, Silvia, and many others were already come. Afterwards all went unto the Temple, and ſtayed there till dinner time: After which Amaſis was very deſirous to take the air, and ſhew unto her princely gueſts, the ſport of hunting, and many other delightfull diverſions.

On the other ſide Clotilda deſiring to ſtrike when the iron was hot, and to take Gondebaut when he was in a good mind, leaſt he ſhould forget the promiſes which he had made in Sigiſmonds favour, ſhe went unto him in his cloſſet, in hopes to make all friends. She found him with that Princes lettet in his hand; yet his browe ſeemed as if his mind was not well ſatisfied: But ſhe in a ſurpriſed manner ſaid unto him: think no more upon it Sir; The promiſe which you have already made, muſt without more thinking upon it, be out of hand performed; Do not ſuffer this ſeperation of your two ſons Sigiſmond, and Godomar, from you, to be laid in your diſh, or accuſed as a bad father: And let not the world look upon them any longer as bad ſone. I ſwear Clotilda (anſwered the king) you have hit upon my very thought, but not of all; For I was thinking too, what will become of Dorinde; ſhould I conſent unto her return, Sigiſmond would doubtleſs dote upon her as he did before, and I ſhould be very ſorry to be an eye witneſs of it: It ſhe remain with Amaſis, I fear that—at this word he ſtopt and shook his head two or three times, and ſighed: but Clotilda, who ſmelt his meaning, and knew he feared that her abſence would be a great regret of heart unto him, yet ſhe would not take the leaſt notice of it: but diſſembling her, thoughts as well as ſhe could, Sir replied ſhe, if ſhe do remain with Amaſis, you need not doubt but to find out many wayes to cure the mind of Sigiſmond of his paſſion towards her: Be pleaſed therefore to leth live ſtill with that ſage Nimph, and command your ſons to return home, for abſence is an excellent remedie to cure the wounds of love, beſides ſuch others as your wiſdom may make uſe of. Gondebaut began to ſmile at the thought of Clotilda, little thinking that ſhe had hit right upon his: And this young Princeſs knowing very well how to lay hold upon this opportunity, and take him in that good humour. Oh Sir (ſaid ſhe) I do long exceedingly to ſee Sigiſmond again that I may chide him for his follies, and ſhew him how little care he has of his honour, in engaging himſelf ſo inconſiderately to love a woman far below his merit, and quality: Ah Cotilda (ſaid the king with a deep ſigh) it is not without reaſon that love is always painted blind: For, (and I ſpeak it knowingly) he does blind our eyes, and ſo much diſorder our [Page] judgments, that we cannot conſider any thing but our own pleaſures. In ſaying ſo, he began to walk; and Clotilda fearing to waken that paſſion which the abſence of Dorinde had lulled aſleep; But good Sir, (ſaid ſhe unto him) is it your pleaſure that Amaſis ſhould enjoy that peace which our Princes have deſired in her behalf? All your people doe abhor that war: and for your part, I cannot think it will be proſperous or any way advantageous to you, becauſe it is began upon ſuch a weak foundation: Though I ſhould make a peace with Amaſis (anſwered Gondebaut, Dorinde will not be included: Clotilda, who knew the thoughts of his heart, and knew that all this diſcourſe proceeded from his paſſion, but ſeeming not to underſtand his meaning; Sir (ſaid ſhe) I cannot think but you will pardon her; for alas ſhe is unworthy of your prinely anger. Upon this Gondebaut was even ready to ſay that ſhe was not unworthy of his love: yet being unwilling to ſhew that he entertained any advantageous thoughts of Dorinde, he turned his diſcourſe, and looking upon Clotilda, ſince you deſire the return of Sigiſmond (ſaid he unto her) and of Godomar, you ſhall ſee how willing I am to content you, and how ready I am to forgive and forget their faults; let me therefore give Ligonias that anſwer which he ſtays for, and leave me for a while, that I may diſpatch ſome letters. Clotilda upon this kneeled down, and having kiſſed his hand, ſhe went out of the cloſſet, and ſet to ſeek for Ligonias, with whom ſhe talked, whilſt Gondebaut was writing. As ſoon as ſhe thought the king had done, ſhe entred in with him; and Gondebaut, cauſing him to come neerer, Cavalier (ſaid he unto him) I do give you full and abſolute power to treat and conclude a peace with Amaſis tell her that no other conſiderations moved me unto it, but the knowledge which I have of her virtue and goodneſs: Aſſure her, that if the wicked deſign of Polemas had been well known unto me, I had never offered to countenance his perſidy: for injuſtice did never pleaſe me. Here (ſaid he) is a letter unto Sigiſmond: tell that ſon of mine, that I do pardon him, and command him to leave Dorinde there, and bring Godomar with him: In ſaying ſo, he permitted Ligonias to kiſs his hand: and the king embracing him as a teſtimony of that eſteem which he had of him, he gave him leave to depart, and commanded ſix of the braveſt Cavaliers in all his court to accompany him in his journey; Ligonias alſo received Clotildas letter, and commands, not without returning unto that young Princeſ [...] many moſt hearty thanks for her good negotiaton; After which he departed with a reſolution to make as much haſte as poſſibly he could.

Ligonias riding moſt part of the night, he came to Marcelles in the morning before Amaſis was up▪ He went firſt unto the quarters of Prince Sigiſmond, whom he found newly out of his bed: after a ſaluting complement, he preſented King Gondebauts letter unto him; At the firſt, Sigiſmond durſt not ask him what was the ſucceſs of his comiſſion, leaſt he ſhould hear ſome ill newes: but after he had embraced him, and found more ſigns of Joy then ſorrow in his face; well Ligonias (ſaid he unto him) what does the Burgundian King intend to do? To have you with him again Sir (anſwered the Cavalier) upon any termes in the wor [...]d: I do beleive it (ſaid the Prince) but upon what termes does he mean; termes of his anger, or termes of his goodneſs; Ligonias ſmiling at this queſtion, Sir ſaid he unto him, upon ſuch termes as an indulgent Father, deſires to ſee his child: he does deſire to ſee you Sir with a thouſand proteſtations and aſſurances, to forgive and forget that offence which (as he conceived) he had received from you: And to promiſe to correſpond with Amaſis as you would have him, and as I ſhall conclude with her, by virtue of that power which he hath given unto me: This, replied Sigiſmond, is the beſt newes that ever could come, or I expect; but, ſaid he, did he not mention Dorinde? Yes Sir; anſwered Ligonias, the moſt expreſs command of all concernes her: for he does deſire that you will leave her here, and bring Prince Godomar with you. In this, (ſaid Sigiſmond) he has fully ſatisfied my own deſire; for I was reſolved not to expoſe her any more unto the mercy of his paſſion, and am extreamly glad, he has commanded it to be ſo, ſince I can ſo willingly and ſo eaſily obey him: In ſaying ſo he opened King Gondebauts letter, and found it thus written.

[Page]

GONDEBAUTS Letter unto SIGISMOND.

THat pity makes a thunder bolt to fall out of the hands of the gods, is it which diſarmes me of that anger where with I intended to deſtroy you. Your repentance has a ſtrong influence upon me, and your Letter, which deſires a peace with Amaſis, has this operation, to remember me, that I am your Father, and to forget that I was her enemy: My hatred towards her, was not ſo juſt as my reſentments againſt you, and yet I am diſpoſed equally to forget both; to the end, your obligation being the greater, the greater alſo may be your acknowledgment of it: That which I do now deſire of you, is your return, and you will no ſooner return unto that duty which nature obliges you unto, but you ſhall find me extreamly affectionate unto my own blood. Let your preſence then be accompanied with Godomar, and live ſo hereafter, as there may no [...] correſpondency ariſe betwixt us, Adieu.

The reading of this Letter did go to the very heart of Sigiſmond, and did let him know, that with what fury ſoever the heart of a Father be incenſed againſt his children, it is hard for him to forget that duty which, Nature, does exact from his affection: now did Sigiſmond in ſome ſort repent that ever he had diſpleaſed him; and when he began to conſider how happily things ſtood, he did aſſuredly believe it to be done by the Providence of the gods and heartily rejoyced at the peace which was procured unto the two Princeſſes, Amaſis and Galathea. He was ſtill upon this thought, when he opened the Letter from Clotilda; and finding therein her earneſt deſires of his ſpeedy return, and her joyes for his victory, he was pleaſed beyond all expreſſion or thought, and reſolved with himſelf to give her that ſatisfaction. In fine, after ſome diſcourſe upon Clotilda with Ligonias; without any more ſtay in this place (continued he) let us go unto Roſilion; my brother is already gone to his chamber, and let us impart unto them the good news you have brought us.

I ſhall wait upon you Sir, anſwered Ligonias, whither you pleaſe, provided we loſe no time to advertiſe the Nymph, for I would not upon any terms hinder her one minute of that pleaſure which ſhe will have when ſhe hears the news. With ſuch diſcourſe as this Sigiſmond dreſſed himſelf, and hearing that Gondebaut had ſent ſome Cavaliers to accompany him, he cauſed them to be ſent for, and kindly entertained them. After this, they went all out, and as ſoon as they entred into Roſilions chamber, both he and Godomar ran to embrace Ligonias, and wondering at the haſte which he had made, they asked him concerning all thoſe things whereof Sigiſmond was fully informed; and having anſwered that Sigiſmond could tell them: See here, ſaid Sigiſmond, what teſtimonies I have received of the Kings clemency: Pray ſee (continued he and the Letter unto Roſilion) how kindly he writes: That Prince then having read the Letter: Now (ſaid he) may Amaſis rejoyce, and believe that her ſafety is ſettled upon ſuch a ſure foundation as cannot be ſhaken: I am ſo full of joy (ſaid Godomar) as I will accompt this day the happieſt day of my life: It ſhall be a holy day to us all; ſaid Sigiſmond, and I do believe Lindamor will have a ſhare in it.

As they were thus diſcourſing, they underſtood that the Nymph was ready, and might be ſeen: Godomar ſtayed with Ligonias, and Sigiſmond with Raſilion went to bid her good morrow, and acquaint her with the happy return of that Cavalier: at which Amaſis was ſo joyed, as one might judge ſhe built all the happineſſe of her life upon it: But becauſe ſhe was to receive Ligonias as an Envoy from the Burgundian King, to treat and conclude ſo ſolemn a peace: As ſoon as Roſanira, Galathea, Madonthe, Dorinde, Daphnide, Silvia, and the reſt were come into her chamber, ſhe went down into the Hall to give audience unto this welcome [Page] Embaſſadour: Godomar was preſently advertiſed of it, and preparing himſelf to bring in Ligonias, he cauſed him to walk before the ſix Cavaliers of Gondebaut, and Godomar leading him by the hand, conducted him unto Amaſis. The Nymph advanced two or three ſteps to receive him, and the Cavalier kneeling down upon the ground, and at the Nymphs requeſt riſing up again, Madam (ſaid he unto her) Gondebaut, the King of the Burgundians, does conſent unto the peace which you deſired: He would have it ever hereafter to be ſo ſolid and firm, as that it cannot be broken, without the ſin of perjury upon the firſt Violator: He never had begun this warre, but at the ſolicitation of Polemas, who colouring his perfidie with ſpecious pretences of right, implored his Arms; but ſince that rebellious ſubject has found the puniſhment of his treaſon, he is reſolved that the end of his life ſhall be the end of all your diſſentions: and in lieu of ever attempting any thing that may be prejudicial unto you, he will live with you no longer as an enemy, but as a neighbour and friend.

After this, Ligonias held his peace, and Amaſis anſwered him: I do, with abundance of joy, accept the favour and kindneſſe of Gondebaut; I ſhall hold it alwayes a great glory to render him what is due unto his merit and quality; and ſince he is pleaſed t [...] honour me ſo far as to live peaceably and in quiet with me, I ſhall cheriſh his amity as one of the principal ſupporters of my eſtate. In ſaying ſo, ſhe pulled off her glove, and laying her hand upon that of Ligonias: This (ſaid ſhe) is a Symbole of that Faith which I do ſwear in the preſence of gods and men never to violate or falſifie: Ligonias having ſworn the ſame; and this, ſaid ſhe, (taking two pieces of a broken Javelin) ſhall be a teſtimony of our Re-union. In ſaying ſo, ſhe tied both the pieces of the Javelin together; and the ſaid, for a teſtimony unto future times, that this peace ſhall be pure and inviolable, this Javelin ſhall be conſumed by the pureſt of all the elements: and then in the preſence of all the company, ſhe threw it into a fire, which was expreſſely kindled for it. This Ceremony was no ſooner ended, but Amaſis cauſed the Peace to be proclaimed, and the People, in joy of ſuch good news, made Bonfires in every part of the Town, and every one danced and feaſted in ſign of joy.

Adamas was preſently advertiſed of it by a Cavalier whom the Nymph ſent unto him; and though he reſented this good news with joy, yet was there a mixture of thoſe misfortunes which hapned the day before in his houſe: The proſperity of Amaſis did extreamly glad him, but the diſgrace of Celadon did infinitly afflict him. He knew very well that his duty was to wait upon the Nymph, and to rejoyce with her at this new peace; but the intereſt he had in this Shepherd was a chain which tied him to his houſe. So not being able to forſake Celadon in this diſtreſſe, he beſeeched Amaſis to excuſe him, for he had ſome buſineſſe of great conſequ [...]n [...]e at home, of which he would come and give her an accompt as ſoon as ever he had any leiſure. Amaſis received theſe excuſes, and Sigiſmond, left he ſhould give his Father any diſcontent, reſolved to depart that very ſame day, after ſome diſcourſe with Dorinde: he bad Godomar therefore prepare himſelf, and deſired him to invite Roſilion, Lindamor, Damon, Alcidon, and other Cavaliers, to come and ſpend ſome dayes at Lions in the court of Gondebaut, which Godomar promiſing to do, he acquitted himſelf ſo well, as he obtained a promiſe from Roſilion, upon condition he ſhould not ſtay above three dayes at the moſt. Lindamor, Damon, Alcidon, Ligonias, Ligdamon, and the reſt thought it fit not to promiſe any thing without the conſent of Amaſis, who knowing that Roſilion had promiſed, was well pleaſed they ſhould bear her company.

As ſoon then as they had dined, [...]d Amaſis gone unto her cloſſet to reſolve upon ſomething concerning the departure of Sigiſmond, that Prince addreſſing himſelf unto Roſanira and Galathea, who held Dorinde by the hand. I think fair Ladies (ſaid he unto them) that if my journey ſhould be according to your wiſhes, it would be very bad, ſince doubtleſſe you do wiſh me very ill, for the crime which I ſhall commit, in taking from you your Cavaliers. It is very true, anſwered Roſanira, and did I think the return of Roſilion would not be very ſpeedy, I ſhall never conſent unto his departure, and ſhould have a juſt action of [Page] complaint againſt you; but being confident you will not offer to take him away, but with intention to return him ſafe and ſoon again, I can with more patience put up the injury you do me, without any thoughts of revenge. This, fair Nymph, (ſaid Sigiſmond, and addreſſed himſelf unto Galathea) perhaps is not your humour: Sir, anſwered Galathea, in this her mind concurrs with mine, and I cannot anſwer you better then in her words: Is it you then fair Dorinde, ſaid he, that will not pardon this crime? Dorinde would have anſwered, but Sigiſmond interrupted: Nay faireſt, ſaid he, I would not have you pronounce your doom before ſo many witneſſes; I would have you, by the leave of both theſe fair ones, ſpeak it unto none but my ſelf. Upon this Roſanira and Galathea withdrawing a little from Dorinde, Sigiſmond took her hand, and leading her unto a place where ſome ſeats were, deſired her to ſit down, and then ſpoke to her in theſe terms: Did I think, dear Dorinde, that my departure would make you judge otherwiſe of me then as I deſire, certainly the time of my departure would be the time of my death, or at leaſt, I would not upon any terms in the world conſent unto ſuch a ſad ſeparation: I do know exactly how much I ow unto the commands of a Father, and I know alſo what obedience is to be given unto the commands of love; and if my Father command any thing which ſhall croſſe the affection which I do hear unto you, I think it no ſin to diſobey him: I conceive the ſtay that you are to make here will not be tedious unto you, and the leſſe, becauſe you will not be hanted with the impertinent courtſhip of Gondebaut, and becauſe I ſhall every ment be ſaluting you with Letters of love and aſſurances of my fidelity: If you think you ſhould enjoy more contentment in another place, honour me ſo far as to tell me into what part of the world [...]u would have me carry you: I proteſt I will do it, and lay aſide all conſiderations in the world to pleaſe you. Sir (anſwered Dorinde) I ſee ſo little ground to hope for any good from your abſence, as I am not to be blamed if I fear, that the day which takes me from your preſence, will take out of your ſoul all this love you talk of: Had I any▪ qualities either in my birth, wit, or Fortune, able to keep an affection after it is once got, I ſhould not be altogether in ſuch a deſperate opinion; but knowing how extreamly defective I am in all, or at the leaſt in compariſon of you, I expect all the rigours of a bitter abſence, after I am once at a diſtance from you. Not but that I do conſent unto this departure: for I will not have ſo much care of that amity you are pleaſed to honour me withal, as I have of your Fortunes: but I muſt confeſſe freely, I do not expect any good unto my ſelf by it, but I do infallibly believe, that either the perſwaſions of King Gondebaut, or the mallice of my enemies, will extinguiſh all your love to me.

Miſtreſſe (replied Sigiſmond) for I dare ſwear you merit that name, and ſhall have it before any woman in the world; be fully aſſured, that this ſhall never be, and that it ſhall be more eaſie for them to take away my life then my love. Know Dorinde, that I have prepared my ſelf long ſince to anſwer unto all ſuch points as they dare propoſe unto me: for indeed, what can they object, but that there is a great inequality between our conditions; and that you being born a ſubject unto the King my Father, it will be little honourable for me to marry you? This is all they can alledge againſt my affection to you: for as concerning your virtue, they know it is without any exception, all the malice and ſcandal upon earth is not able to blemiſh it. But I ſhall anſwer them, that I being no ſlave, but a Prince, born free in my own choiſe and will, it were moſt abominable Tyranny and injuſtice to conſtrain me unto any other alliance, then where my own free-born inclination moves me unto. I'll tell them, that the knowledge which I have of your humour and wit, does promiſe me more contentment then I can find in any ſtrange Princeſſe, who being born and educated in a clime contrary unto mine, will be of a contrary Genius, and not ſo ſutable and pliant unto my deſires and mind; and for a concluſion I'll tell them, that it is the property of Kings to do memorable acts, and I ſhall take delight in ſurmounting Nature, giving the quality of Queen unto a woman, whoſe birth denied it unto her; but if theſe arguments ſhould not prove valid and full enough to ſtop their mouths, I have another which is more ſtrong and prevalent, and I know they cannot gain ſay it, when I ſhall peremptorily [Page] tell them that it is my will. Therefore, my deareſt Dorinde, you have no reaſon to fear, but that my paſſion unto you will have as good a ſucceſſe as we can deſire. Alas Sir, (ſaid Dorinde and ſighed) If I do fear, it is becauſe I do eſteem you, and fear and amity are alwayes inſeperable. I do not doubt but you mean well, and will to your power perform what you promiſe. But when I conſider, with what ſtratagems and arguments they will endeavour to ſubvert your conſtancy; and what malicious devices they will uſe to ruine me in your opinion: I muſt confeſſe, I cannot believe you will be able to reſiſt them. I do freely confeſſe Sir, that I have an inclination to you, perhaps more then becomes me to have unto any man; but I do ſwear, that if even I hear you begin to fail in that fidelity which you have vowed unto me, I will hate you ſo abominably, as though I cannot be revenged upon you, yet I will upon my ſelf for loving you more then I ought: I hope, deareſt Dorinde (ſaid Sigiſmond) that you will ſooner hear of my death then my inconſtancy: and if it ſhould ſo happen, that the malice of any Rival, or perhaps Gondebaut, ſhould raiſe ſome falſe reports which ſhall belie theſe aſſurances which now I do give unto you, if you love me believe them not, nor ſuſpect me as faulty in any one of thoſe promiſes which I have made. I pray heaven (anſwered Dorinde) I never be deceived in my hopes and pretentions: for if I do fall from that height unto which you have raiſed my ambition, the fall will moſt certainly be mortal unto me, and it will be you only that would be culpable of all the harm that happens.

Deareſt Dorinde, for pities ſake, drive all ſuſpicions out of your ſoul, and be aſſured, that as ſoon as ever I am at my own liberty and diſpoſe, I will add unto the quality of a Lover, the title of a husband, and ſhall be more proud of that happy name, then of ſuch a Scepter as would make me poſſeſſour of all the world. Alas, heaven would be the puniſher of my ſelfneſſe, and hell would let looſe all its Furies to torment me, ſhould I falſifie my word, or ſwell you up with vain hopes: No, no, Dorinde, believe it, my love is a pure and a holy flame, and conſequently pleaſing unto the Gods; I never entertained any thought of you which was not holy and lawful: and ſince it hath pleaſed the gods to ſuffer the continuance of my paſſion thus long, certainly they will never let it die: At the leaſt, I do proteſt and ſwear unto you by all the Divinities which inhabit heaven, by that love which I bear unto your faireſt ſelf, nay, by your adored ſelf, my Dorinde, that all the care which a devoted lover can have for the preſervation of his zealous flame, I will imploy to the preſervation of mine, to the end that if it be poſſible it may live even after my death.

In ſaying ſo he took her hand, and lifted it to his mouth, which Dorinde did not deny, for ſhe was ſo taken up with ſad thoughts of this doleful ſeparation, as ſhe hardly knew what ſhe did, but becauſe Sigiſmond did in an amorous rapture, as it were, dwell upon her fair hand, ſhe ſuddenly pulled it away, and ſaid unto him, what proteſtations and oathes ſoever you make to aſſure me of your fidelity, yet my fears, Sirr of your change makes me doubt, that they are not able to make your words good, unto which I do give all the credit and faith that can be given unto the word of a Prince. I will, to my conſolation, believe that you will not change, and will be perſwaded that you do love me: I will think your paſſion to be very high, and that it cannot admit of any deminution; but however, give me leave to reſent your departure, as the greateſt injury that Fortune could do unto me; and if you do need any further teſtimony of my happy wiſhes of your welfare, receive my tears as the greateſt that I can give. Upon this ſhe let fall ſome tears, which ſhe offered to reſtrain but could not, which Sigiſmond no ſooner perceived, but he cried out, O my deareſt Dorinde, preſerve thoſe pearls only for the god of Love, and do not recompence my love with Jewels of ſo high a price: wipe away thoſe obliging tears, leſt they ſhould move too much ſorrow, and force me after your example unto the like. Dorinde then, lifting her handkerchief up to her eyes, provided (ſaid ſhe) that my eyes may never be provoked unto this ſad office by your infidelity, I will not ſhed any more at your departure; but if it happen (as heaven forbid it ſhould) that I ſhould ever have any cauſe to accuſe you of infidelity, I ſhall chide thoſe tears which now I have [Page] propped, and condemn them as acceſſaries unto your Treaſon. I do proteſt once more, deareſt Dorinde, replied Sigiſmond, that you ſhall never have any cauſe to condemn either your tears or my love: I will moſt inviolably obſerve my promiſes, and you ſhall find that the end of my affection ſhall not be ſooner then the end of my life; you may believe it, and the ſooner, becauſe I ſay it without conſtraint, or without any deſign in the world. Make me ſo happy as to be no leſſe religious in the obſervances of all your promiſes, then I ſhall be in mine; and know, that I ſhall enjoy no happy minutes during this abſence from you, but ſuch as are imployed in the thoughts of you: In ſaying ſo, he kiſſed her hand three times, and went away without giving her ſo much leiſure as no anſwer; not being able to reſiſt thoſe violences, which his love and compaſſion raiſed in his ſoul.

Roſilion at the ſame time, asked Roſanira leave to go and ſee Gondebaut; and though at the firſt ſhe was hardly to be perſwaded unto it, yet at laſt being overcome by his reaſons, ſhe conſented he ſhould go, upon condition of return within five or ſix dayes at the furtheſt limit. For (ſaid ſhe unto him) if the Queen Argira ſhould ſend, and preſcribe limits unto our return, how ſhall I be able to obey her, when you are ſo far diſtant from hence? I do not know any thing in the world that ſhould be more dear unto you then her preſence; and the rather, becauſe if you love me, you know it is ſhe only from whom you are to expect the accompliſhment of your deſires and mine: My faireſt Princeſſe, anſwered Roſilion, the deſign which carries me unto Gondebaut, perhaps, is greater then you imagine: you know how puiſſant that Prince is, and how much his amity is to be ſought after: Now I do hope by that inviolable contract of friendſhip which is betwixt Sigiſmond, Godomar, and me, to gain ſomething upon the good will of the Father; and to make him my Allie. I do not enquire, replied Roſanira, after the cauſe which moves you to go, but I do only ſolicite you to a certain the time of your return. I know all you propoſitions and deſigns, have ſome legal and noble object for their end; but I fearmdash;upon this Roſanira ſtopt; and Roſilion obſerving by her countenance ſome impreſſion of fears; what does my deareſt Princeſſe fear? (ſaid he unto her) is it that I ſhall die of thoſe torments I ſhall endure when I am out of your ſight? No (replied ſhe very dejectedly) I rather fear, that when you ſee Clotilda, you will die for love of her. Jealous Princeſſe, replied Roſilion, your ſuſpicions wound me to the ſoul, but I will not go; and though I did conceive ſome neceſſity in making this voyage, yet I will ſlight it for your ſake, and will let you ſee, that the conſervation of your amity is more dear and conſiderable unto me, then the ſafety of that eſtate which is to fall unto me.

Roſanira then quitting her firſt apprehenſions, and looking upon Roſilion with a ſmiling eye: pray Sir, ſaid ſhe, excuſe my fears, which ought to be arguments unto you of my love, ſince I do fear the loſing of you; but for all that, do not alter your intentions of going with Sigiſmond: for I do promiſe to endure your abſence, rather with longing impatience of your return, then any fears of ſacrificing your ſelf unto another: Me thinks (anſwered Roſilion) that my ſervices may merit that belief from you; and if there do remain in you any doubts of my fidelity, I have as much love as ever I had, and can begin new aſſurances of my ſelf: believe it fair Roſanira, I can be none but yours; and things abſolutely impoſſible ſhall become eaſie to all the world, before I ceaſe loving you with the ſame zeal I firſt reſented when I made profeſſion of it unto you. I do believe it, ſaid Roſanira, and do vow, never to doubt it any more, provided dear Roſilion that you will alſo believe my faith to be inviolable. After this, Roſilion asking her whether ſhe would honour him with any ſervice: All that I deſire from you (anſwered ſhe) is to return ſoon again, and not to let the luſter of Lions Court, make you forget that which will make you Lord of many Provinces, as you are already of my inclination.

Roſilion promiſing to make his ſtay as ſhort as poſſible, he went unto Sigiſmond, and finding him much troubled and ſad; for he was then ready to leave Dorinde, he deſired him in all love, to tell him the cauſe; and Sigiſmond whiſpering him in [Page] the eare, look (ſaid he) in the face of Dorinde, and tell me whether it be poſſible to part from her without extream diſpleaſure: I do proteſt continued he) that now I do moſt ſenſibly find love to be the moſt ſmarting of all other paſſions, ſince the affection which I bear unto that fair one, is able to make me forget both my Father and my Fortunes, and all things elſe but her: I did ever think, replied Roſilion, that when this paſſion does meet in a brave ſpirit, it is moſt difficult, nay even impoſſible to ſeparate, unleſſe it be ſmothered by ſome great injury received, as it will by diſdain or change; and therefore I do not wonder that you being once taken by the charms of Dorinde, ſhould believe this love can never die in you: for I believe moſt confidently, that ſhe will live in your ſoul as long as that fair one ſhall endeauour to keep the fire alive. This, replied Sigiſmond, does make the tyranny of Fathers moſt odious unto me, who under a pretence of that authority which Nature hath conferred upon them, do conſtrain the will of their children, and force them with intollerable violence, to deny their own inclinations, only to follow ſuch motions as their ambition or avarice does prompt them unto; as if it were not reaſonable we ſhould enjoy the ſame priviledges that is allowed unto other animals, who in their harmleſſe paſſions do without any conſtraint follow that party which they beſt like▪ Let me not live (continued he) if I have not ever, ſince I knew the merits of Dorinde, extreamly envyed all thoſe, who in condition far inferiour unto mine, yet may do what they will with themſelves, and are not forced to comply and pleaſe any but their own deſires. Such (ſaid Roſilion) do meet with obſtacles that are worſe, and which hinder them from a perfect guſt of ſuch contentments as men do enjoy; therefore we ought all to remain contented in the Sphaere of our own conditions, without any envy unto any: for doubtleſſe, even thoſe whom we do envy, would, were it in their Liberties to chuſe, moſt willingly ceaſe being what they are, to become what we are.

The held on ſome further diſcourſe, whilſt Lindamor related unto Galathea, how the Princes had promiſed to do unto Amaſis; and ſhe being a little troubled that they had not alread ſpoken unto the Nymph. Madam (ſaid he unto her) I cannot think they wil forget the promiſe which they made unto me; & though they have not made any ſolicitations in my behalf, yet doubtleſſe they have ſworn too ſollemnly, to fail me. However it be, replied Galathea, you ſee they are upon the very point of their departure, and to reſolve upon a thing of that great importance, there will be required more time then they have to ſtay. Madam, replied Lindam [...], we need no more but the Nymphs conſent; and I hope, that to obtain it, there needs no more but to ask it: ſo as there being time enough for that, there is yet time enough to make me the moſt happy man upon earth. Do you think then (ſaid Galathea and ſmiled) that it is ſo eaſie a matter to obtain my conſent? Madam, replied Lindamor, it is much more hard to merit. Truly it (ſaid Galathea) you are full of vanity, but fuller of love (anſwered he) and of ſuch hopes as you have given me; but I ſhall be extreamly ſorry that it does diſpleaſe you: Upon this word Galathea interrupted him, and fearing that ſhe had angred him; my Cavalier (ſaid ſhe unto him) you cannot anger me, and whatſoever you deſire ſhall not diſpleaſe me; and to ſhew you, that how great ſoever your deſires are to enjoy me, they are not greater then mine to be yours; know that I am already wholly devoted to be yours, and if by croſſe Fate my mothers will ſhould thwart ours, I will die before ſhe ſhall give me unto any other but Lindamor: in ſaying ſo, ſhe obſerved that Roſanira was a little parted from Roſilion, and went to Dorinde, and therefore ſhe left Lindamor to go and put the Princes in memory of their promiſe.

Almoſt at the ſame time, Amaſis came out of her cloſſet, with eyes which indeed were ſomething watry; for ſhe ſtill grieved to think ſhe was to loſe them, unto whom ſhe was obliged for her life and liberty: and Sigiſmond, who had already given order to make all things ready, he came unto her to bid her adieu. As ſoon as the Nymph ſaw him coming, ſhe went into her cloſſet again, where the Prince following her, with Roſilion and Godomar with him, he ſpoke to her in theſe terms: You have ſeen, Madam, what command I have received from the [Page] King my Father, and how earneſtly he deſires my return unto him. My fears to incenſe his haſty humour again againſt me, and make him repent of the pardon which he gave me, moves me moſt humbly to beſeech you I may give him that contentment which he deſires: proteſting unto you, Madam, that if the deſire which he has to ſee Godomar and me again, were any thing againſt your ſafety and reſt, I believe I ſhould rather ſuffer the inconveniency of his anger, then ever return unto him.

Sir, anſwered Amaſis, you need not doubt but your departure will much afflict me, and make me ſenſible of that loſſe, as of the eſtate which I am obliged unto you for preſerving. Not but that I think it moſt juſt you ſhould obey the commands of Gondebaut, ſince he intends only to deliver you from the inconveniences which you receive here, and to reſtore you unto the firſt luſter an magnificence of his Court; but I muſt needs confeſſe, it grieves me extreamly to part with you, and to know, that being in no degree able to requite ſo many good offices done, I am conſtrained to ſeem ungrateful towards you. Methinks, Madam (ſaid Roſilion) that you ought not to take any care how to recompence us, ſince we have reaſon to think our ſelves infinitly obliged unto you, for furniſhing us with the means of acquiring glory, and given us an honourable ſubject wherin to exerciſe our arms lawfully.

Sir, replied the Nymph, your reputations were before at as high a pitch as they could attain unto, and this laſt occaſion wherein you have made your courages to appear, can be nothing elſe but arguments of that pity which you had of me: the truth is, I am ſhe that only reaps the benefit of it, and am moſt obliged unto you; and when I conſider, that after ſo many benefits and favours received, I muſt loſe you, and ſuffer you to depart without any teſtimonies of reſentment, it does grieve me ſo to the heart, as I do hardly enjoy that happineſſe and well being which you have gotten me: And your departure is almoſt as ſad unto me, as all thoſe fears which the inſolence of Polemas did cauſe unto me. Madam (ſaid Godomar) probably our departure does a little trouble you, becauſe it takes out of your preſence two perſons over whom your merit gives you a moſt abſolute power; but there is no reaſon in the world it ſhould grieve you, becauſe in what parts of the world ſoever we live, our affections and ſervices ſhall alwaies teſtifie that we are moſt perfectly yours: The truth is (ſaid Amaſis) I have already received ſo many teſtimonies of your good will, as I have no reaſon to doubt but you imploy it for me, upon all occaſions wherein your aſſiſtance is requiſite; but this does not comfort me in thoſe ſorrows which this ſad ſeparation cauſes in me: for I would have you depart better ſatisfied from me, and would gladly acquit my ſelf, in ſome meaſure, of thoſe obligations wherein I am bound unto your valour.

Madam, replied Sigiſmond, the care you have had of Godomar and Dorinde, ſince they came into Marcelles, is no way inferiour then that which I have imployed to ſerve and help you, though I dare ſay, that the favours which they have received from you, does much ſurpaſs all that I have done: becauſe you were leſs obliged to receive them, then I was to free you from all ſuch inconveniences as might have hapned unto you for their ſakes: ſo it is I who am the obliged party, and am moſt concerned to complain, that Fortune offers me no better means of grateful returns. Yet, Madam (continued he) if it be your pleaſure I ſhould attribute this unto your civilitie, and that I ſhould think what I have done for you, deſerves ſome kind of recompence, I will believe it ſo, ſince it is your pleaſure, and to the end I may have ſome kind of right to hope, that you will be pleaſed to grant two humble requeſts which I have unto you: Sir, anſwered Amaſis (with a countenance leſſe ſad then before) no greater pleaſure can come unto me in all the world, then to do any thing you ſhall deſire, I beſeech you therefore, and conjure you unto it, to command me whatſoever you deſire, that I may teſtifie how great a deſire I have to obey you.

The firſt thing then that I deſire, Madam (ſaid Sigiſmond) relates unto the Intereſt of Dorinde, whom I beſeech you permit to ſtay a while with you: I think there is no need I ſhould tell you my reaſons; for you knowing both her life and [Page] mine, doubtleſſe you know them alſo as well as my ſelf. Only I aſſure you, that the favours which ſhe hath already received from you, and thoſe which ſhe expects from your amity, ſhall be put upon my accompt of obligations to you, and ſhall be ſo well imprinted in my memory, as I will never forget them.

As to the other humble requeſt which I am to make, it conceirns as well the Intereſt of Roſilion and Godomar, as my own, for they▪ alſo engaged themſelves to preſent it; but yet it conceirns a Cavalier, whoſe virtue may without oſtentation, aſpire unto the higheſt degree that Fortune can raiſe a man: And, Madam, to leave you no longer in a dubious ſuſpence, I will freely tell you, that Roſilion, my brother, and I, do muſt humbly beſeech you to give the poſſeſſion of Galathea unto the merits of Lindamor: You, Madam, do know, better then any, the qualities of which he is owner, and what proofs he has given you of his valour and courage; you know all, that if your Eſtate is to be ſuſtained by the valour and judgment of a man, none can more legitimately pretend unto it then he: Therefore, Madam, if it be your pleaſure to confer upon him any recompence for the perils he hath undergone, and whereunto he expoſed himſelf for your ſake, and if you will not ſhame us with the denial of a requeſt ſo juſt, we conjure you by the memory of Clidemant whom he hath ſo faithfully ſerved, and by the proſperity and welfare which you and your dominions are to enjoy, to approve of this his humble deſire, and of our motion in his behalf. As he ſaid ſo, Sigiſmond took the hand of Amaſis, and ſtooping to kiſs it, the Nimph ſmiled: Sir ſaid ſhe unto him, I doe with all my heart conſent unto all you ask: Dorinde ſhall never far worſe, nor be leſs dear unto me then Galathea her ſelf: And though I were not obliged to give Lindamor what he deſires of me as a recompence which I owe unto his courage, yet I doe know his quallity and merits ſo well, that I would grant him what he now requeſts: I doe deſire only to conſult with Galathea and know her mind, yet aſſuring my ſelf ſhe will not diſapprove of any thing I ſhall doe. Madam (ſaid Roſilion) though Sigiſmond only did preſent the requeſt unto you, and you have been pleaſed to grant it, yet I muſt needs give you muſt humble thanks, and do proteſt, I doe think my ſelf no leſs obliged for any favour you do unto Lindamor, then if I had received it my ſelf; this ſhall make me haſten my return that I may be preſent at this happy marriage, and I dear ſay the dayes that Lindamor does ſpend in Lions, he will not think, the moſt pleaſant of his life.

Indeed (ſaid Godomar) neither you nor he will take much pleaſure in being there, but however, you ſhall be bid moſt kindly welcome: and if the King will give me leave, I will return with you, to be a witneſs of Lindomar or, & your happineſs: Indeed (ſaid Amaſis and ſighed) I ſhould be happy if you would be as good as you ſay: That Madam, replied Godomar, does wholy depend upon the will of Gondebaut: I ſhould think my ſelf infinitly happy (ſaid Amaſis) if he would be pleaſed to conſent unto it; nor ſhould I ever be poſſeſed with frights, and terrors, as long as I ſhould be ſo happy as to have your preſence: It ſhall not be long of me Madam, ſaid Sigiſmond, if my Brother doe not obtain that leave, for I will undertake to aske it for him, and will uſe the beſt endeavors I can to move the King, that he may have the honour of ſeeing you again: In the mean time Madam, the laſt favour which I deſire to obtain from you, is the continuation of your good will, and doe moſt humbly beſeech you to beleive, that what fortune ſoever I be in, I will never forget the oath which I have made to ſerve you againſt all your enemies: In ſaying ſo, he kiſſed her and bad adieu, but Amaſis holding him in her armes, alas Sir, ſaid ſhe unto him muſt we be ſo miſerable as to loſe you? Heaven was not ſo kind in giving me the happy honour of your acquaintance, as it is mortally cruell in depriving me ſo ſoon of you: Upon this ſhe could not refrain from teares; and Sigiſmond, who was extreamly moved, Madam replied he, what neceſſitie ſoever it be which calls me unto the King my Father, yet it ſhall not be ſo prevalent as your command if you doe bid me not to go: Indeed ſeeing I could not now be much ſervicable unto you, I though you would diſpence with my obedience unto him, and not complain of my departure. Your obedience unto him (replied Amaſis with teares in her eyes) cannot [Page] be condemned, noe more then my ſad reſentment of your departure: Pay unto Gondebaut that which nature does exact from you: And I will pay that unto you, which unleſs I were the moſt ungratfull woman in the world, I cannot deny unto thoſe great benefits which have obliged me unto you. Yet ſince it is more reaſonable that the intereſts of a Father, ſhould be more conſiderable unto you then mine, I will receive this adieu which you bid me, yet upon condition that you will honour me ſo far as to promiſe, though I be at a diſtance from you, yet you will ſometimes call me into your memorie. Upon this, ſhe embraced him again, and Sigiſmond embracing her, I doe not only promiſe it Madam (ſaid he) but alſo ſwear it by the ſoul of my Father, and all the oathes that ought to be inviolably kept: beſeeching the gods to afflict me with all manner of torments, the firſt moment I offer to break them: And I Sir (anſwered Amaſis with teares and ſighes) doe vow ſooner to die then ceaſe to honour you and love you as I am obliged. In ſaying ſo, ſhe left Sigiſmond, whom ſhe had all be dewed with her teares, and addreſſing her ſelf unto Roſilion; and you Sir (continued ſhe) if ever you intend to oblige me any farther, I beſeech you ſhew it in contriving it ſo as Gondebaut may not deny Godomar the libertie of returning to me: Roſilion having promiſed to imploy the utmoſt of his endeavours Godomar, advanced, who making a low conge to bid her adieu; Pardon me Madam (ſaid he unto her) if I fail in any of thoſe reſpects which I doe owe unto you, aſſuring you that I am moſt ready to make reparation as you ſhall ordain: Nay Sir, anſwered ſhe, I beſeech you the miſeries which I reſent, if during the ſtay you have made here, I have omitted any thing which was due unto your birth: Proteſting that if any where, they proceeded not from want of any affection, for I have as much to you, as ever I had to Clidemant. Upon this ſhedding ſome tears in ſign of her ſorrows, ſhe went out of her cloſſet with a countenance ſo ſad, that all the Ladies who were in the Chamber, eſpecially Dorinde, began to loſe their collours as they did in the time of their calamities, Galathea was ready to drop down for fear the Princes had forgotten their promiſes unto Lindamor: And that Cavelier who knew that their favours was the beſt foundation he had for his hopes of his Miſtreſſe, he was alſo in a moſt pitifull impatience to know what ſucceſs they had obtained for him: yet not daring to let his perplexities appear, he wiſhed himſelf already in the Country, that he might know the doom of his good or bad fortune. Galathea who ſat upon thorns, and as wel as he was once upon the point to put Dorinde upon it, to ask Sigiſmond what news: yet conſidering that it was too much againſt the hair of a womans modeſty, ſhe reſolved to enquire no further; but patiently to ſtay till the time came. So when the Princes came unto her to ſalute her, and bid her adieu, ſhe returned her complement as handſomely as ſhe could: Roſanira, Dorinde, Daphnide, Madonthe, Silvia and the reſt of the Ladies, having done the ſame, Sigiſmond enquired by what meanes he might aſſure Adamas of his good affection, and charged Thamires with that commiſſion, becauſe he was to goe unto that Druide, deſiring Thamires to tell him, that though he departed without ſeeing him, yet would he be his perfect friend, Roſilion and Godomar did the like, and afterwards bad their laſt adieu unto the Nimph and all the Ladies, and then took horſe.

Godomar had already ſurrendred the office of Publique Dictator unto which he was elected, as well to drive the nailes for Roſilion and Adraſtes, as for other particular affaires of Amaſis; ſo as there being nothing that could ſtay them any longer, they all departed, and the Nimph cauſing her chariot to be made ready, ſhe would needs accompany them a little way out of the Town.

It was a moſt goodly ſight to ſee theſe Princes ſo bravely mounted, their mannage of their horſes was incomparable, and they alſo made a very glorious ſhew. For beſides all thoſe who were no ſtrangers, as Perlandor, Merindor, Lidius, Ligdamon, Lipandas, Silrines, Alcidon, Damon, and many others; Roſilion took with him the hundred Caveliers which the Queen Argira left with him, for the ſafety of Marcelles [...]s in this Equipage then they went out of the caſtle court, where they were all aſſembled: And the inhabitants being advertiſed of this deſparture, conſidering that they, who departed, were the deliverers of their Town, they did rank [Page] themſelves on both ſides the ſtreets, where they were to paſs: and there, upon their knees, and with hands lifted up to heaven, ſome weeping for joy others for ſorrows, all, even the very children, prayed heartily for all proſperity upon them. Clindor amongſt the reſt, would needs ſee them depart, and calling to memory that Alcippes and he had been ſuch Cavaliers in their dayes, he could not chuſe but pay ſome ſighs for the loſſe of ſo dear and faithful a friend.

When they were a little way out of the Town, the Princes were advertiſed that the Nymph followed, and therefore they turned back, and moſt earneſtly beſeeching her to go no further, they had their laſt adieu unto her, and all the Ladies that accompanied her, and afterwards continued on their journey. Lindamor, who was not able to live any longer in that impatiency, but longed beyond expreſſion to know what anſwer Amaſis returned unto his requeſt which he doubted whether the Princes had preſented or no, he addreſſed himſelf unto Godomar, becauſe Sigiſmond and Roſilion were in diſcourſe together; and beſeeching him to tell him what ſucceſſe he might expect from his amorous requeſt, that young Prince did at the laſt ſet his heart at reſt, and aſſured him, that the Nymph liked ſo well of it, as ſhe had faithfully promiſed to be no obſtacle againſt it. Lindamor, even raviſhed at ſo good an anſwer, did firſt lift up his eyes to heaven, afterwards, looking upon Godomar Generous Prince (ſaid he unto him) may heaven be propitious unto you in all your attempts, for being ſo great a Patron unto me in my love to Galathea. But good Sir, continued he, do you not flatter up my paſſion with theſe ſweet hopes, and endeavour to deceive that diſpair which the refuſal of Amaſis would have driven me into? Brave Lindamor (anſwered Godomar) do not think I disguiſe the truth I tell, you with any tricks; I aſſure you Amaſis is all yours, and never propoſed any other condition unto the requeſt which Sigiſmond made in your behalf, but only to conſult upon it with her daughter Galathea, whether it ſtood with her will: Now if Galathea be not againſt it, the buſineſs is done, and probably will be accompliſhed at your return. But Lindamor (continued he) I ſhould not have told you this good news▪ for I am afraid your impatiency to enjoy thoſe favours which you have already ſo long ſince purchaſed, will make you think your journey with us tedious: Sir, replied the Cavalier, the honour to be in your company is as great a delight unto me as any other; but I muſt ingeniouſly confeſſe unto you, that if my ſervice were not neceſſary, I ſhould be very glad if you would command me to return unto the Nymph, that I may put her in memory of that promiſe, which ſhe has made unto you in my favour, and to ſolicite the accompliſhment of it. Koow Lindamor, replied Godomar, that where we are to go, you ſhall have no leſſe liberty then my ſelf; and I will be ſo far from hindring your return, that I will accompany you, if it will pleaſe the King to permit me: for believe it, I find ſo much ſweetneſſe in the converſation of Amaſis and her Nymphs and ſee them enjoy ſuch a ſweet and dilectable tranquility, that I would willingly buy the liberty of being amongſt them at the price of my blood: Sir (replied Lindamor) you have ſeen only a ſhadow of thoſe pleaſures and delights which that little countrey uſed to enjoy: for the loſs of Clidemant, the rebellion of Polemas, and the Army of the King your Father, and others, have ſo diſturbed that Tranquility and Felicity which Amaſis and her people were wont to enjoy, that whilſt you were in Marcelles, I dare ſay, you ſaw but a falſe of thoſe ſwe [...] which accompanied their lives in the time of peace. This is it which makes me ſay (ſaid the Prince) that now their contentments muſt needs be high, ſince I received ſo much amongſt them during the time of their adverſity.

With ſuch diſcourſe as this they made the length of the way ſeem ſhort; and Amaſis, who took towards the Town, was no ſooner entred into the Caſtle, but leaving unto Galathea the care of entertaining of all the company ſhe went into her cloſſet to find out of her own virtue ſome conſolation for the abſence of the Princes; and as ſhe was calling to mind all the various ſucceſſes which had hapned unto her during the whole courſe of her life, and found by the death of her son; how irrevocable is that Law which condemneth all to die ſhe reſolved at the return of Lindamor to accompliſh his marriage with Galathea, and after ſhe [Page] had conferred the government of the ſtate unto him, to retire her ſelf into Mountbriſon, or into the Pallace of Iſoures, there to ſpend the reſt of her dayes.

Galathea, whoſe age uſed not to entertain any ſuch holy conſiderations, began to think upon a hundred ſports wherein to divert her ſelf, till Lindamor returned with the reſt of the Cavaliers; but finding none that could ſurmount thoſe ſorrows which their departure had cauſed, at laſt after a little ſtudy, ſhe addreſſed her ſelf unto Roſanira, and ſaid unto her. You can judge, Madam, upon what I am now thinking: It is very true, anſwered Roſanira, for my eyes are not good enough to ſee into your ſoul: Truly, replied the Nymph, I am thinking upon the diſcourſe which Thamires had yeſterday concerning the cure of Celidea; and I believe it would be much pleaſure unto us to ſee her now: for before ſhe had disfigured her ſelf, ſhe was reputed for one of the faireſt women that ever came upon the Banks of Lignon. I believe (replied the Princeſſe) that the leaſt intimation of your deſire to ſee her▪ would be enough to make her come hither: I do indeed believe, replied Galathea, that ſhe would not deny me that contentment if I ſhould deſire it, but I conceive it better to ſee her where ſhe is, if you would but do as I would contrive it: Galathea then deſiring to be pleaſant, and Roſanira deſiring to tell her how ſhe would contrive it; I would have us (ſaid the Nymph) to dreſſe our ſelves like Shepherdeſſes, and go and ſurprize Adamas in his houſe; there we ſhall ſee Celidea; Aſtrea perhaps will be there alſo, unto whom I ſhall be very glad to impart a ſecret which I know will be welcome unto her: Silvander likewiſe, is doubtleſſe there, and if we chance to find Hylas there alſo, we ſhall not want diverſion enough.

Dorinde, who till then ſaid nothing, becauſe the thoughts of Sigiſmonds departure took up her mind, ſhe preſently began to put in her vie: I have yet my Shepherdeſſes habit (ſaid ſhe) and Madonthe and Daphnide I believe have not parted with theirs, ſo as if you will provide habits for your ſelves againſt to morrow morning, we will all wait upon you thither. Daphnide and Madonthe, liking the propoſition of Roſanira, did willingly conſent unto it. I believe, ſaid Dorinde, that I ſhall be the leaſt merry in the company, but I ſhall endeavour to do as I can. For my part, ſaid Galathea, I ſhall contribute all I can to make you ſo; but (continued ſhe) we do only want the conſent of Amaſis unto the deſign: None can do that (ſaid Madonthe) better then your ſelf: I conceive it good therefore, that you make the motion unto her: I conceive not ſo (replied the Nymph and ſmiled) and therefore I deſire that it may be put to the vote who ſhall ask her, and let the plurality of voices carry it. I will give mine unto you (ſaid Roſanira) and I the ſame (ſaid Daphnide) then fair Galathea, ſaid Dorinde, prepare your ſelf for this commiſſion, for the vote falls upon you. Here is a controverſie (ſaid the Nymph) ſoon determined, and ſince you command it, ſhall be as ſoon obeyed.

Upon this, ſhe went very confidently into the cloſſet of Amaſis, whom ſhe found very penſive and ſad; and having propounded the motion unto her, ſhe approved of it, and reſolved to go her ſelf unto Mountbriſon, and ſpend her time there, whilſt they were merry at the houſe of Adamas: Galathea having made an humble Coage unto her, ſhe would have gone away, but the Nymph called her back again; and after ſhe had looked a little ſeriouſly upon her, Galathea, ſaid ſhe, tell me truly: If Lindamor ſhould take part with Gondebaut, and forſake my ſervice as he intends, would you not accuſe him of extream ingratitude? I cannot believe, Madam, anſwered Galathea, that he has any ſuch intention; for he ſets a greater value upon your Intereſt then ſo: But, replied Amaſis, I have now no great need of him, ſince Gondebaur and I am friends. No matter for that, Madam (replied the Nymph) it is enough he once ſerved you, to make him never ſerve Gondebaut, unleſſe you do expreſly command him; you think ſo very well of him (ſaid Amaſis) that I do believe you bear ſome good will unto him: Truth is Madam (anſwered Galathea and bluſht a little). I have no reaſon to hate him: Well, well, (ſaid Amaſis) go and look unto your flocks, ſince you are all reſolved to become Shepherdeſſes; and we will talk more of this another time: [Page] Amaſis ſmiled as ſhe ſpoke theſe words, and Galathea, who obſerved all her motions, did from thence draw good hopes of ſucceſs to her deſires.

As ſhe went out, Thamires came to the cloſſet dore, and Galathea taking him by the hand, carried him to the Nymph, who knowing that he came purpoſly to receive her commands, charged him to tell the grand Druide, that ſhe was very ſorry ſhe had not his preſence at the concluſion of peace; yet if any news of conſequence fell out, ſhe would advertiſe him: Thamires humbly bowing himſelf promiſed to do all her commands and after he had bid adieu unto the reſt of the Ladies, he went to ſee his dear Celedea, who thought one dayes abſence from him, an age.

He was no ſooner come within a hundred paces of the Druides houſe, but he met her, yet with ſo ſad a countenance, that he was exceedingly troubled at it and deſired to know the cauſe. The ſhepherdeſs, who loved him as her own ſoul, and had no other deſires but to pleaſe him. The ſadneſs which you ſee in my looks (ſaid ſhe unto him) proceeds more from the intereſt of others then my own, and if you take ſo much paines as to go into the houſe of Adamas, unleſs you be very inſenſible, you will be as ſad as I am: All are there in extream diſorder: almoſt all thoſe whom you left there, went away yeſterday preſently after you, and there is ſuch an confuſion amongſt thoſe ſhepherds and ſhepherdeſſes that remain, as is impoſſible to be expreſſed unto you. Alexis is loſt: Silvander never was heard of ſince yeſterday: Diana and Astrea, went out of their chambers this morning before day, and no news can be told of them Paris is gone to look them: Leonide, Phillis, Licidas, Stella, Hylas, Doris, Adraſtes, and the reſt, are gone to do the like: and had I not thought that you would have returned about this time, I would have gone after them. This is a ſtrange alteration indeed (ſaid Thamires:) but that they may not think we have leſs good will unto them then the reſt. Let us do the Druide the beſt ſervice we can, after I have given him an accompt of what Amaſis has particularly commanded me to tell him. All we can do (anſwered Celedea) is to ſeek out Aſtrea and Diana, for his greateſt cares are for them: well (ſaid Thamires) wee will do our beſt: In the mean time reſt your ſelf here under this ſhade of trees, and I will return as ſoon as poſſible I can: ſo Celedea kiſſing him, ſhe ſat down, and Thamires went to the Druides houſe.

He went firſt to the chamber of Adamas without meeting any living ſoul, and becauſe he found the dore ſhut, whilſt he was diſputing with himſelf whether he ſhould knocke or no, he heard Adamas ſay in a loud voice: but Bellinde, to what purpoſe are all theſe teares? They will not do any good at all, but are diſpleaſing unto the gods: Theſe few words, made Thamires liſten the more attentively, and he heard Bellinde anſwere with a deep ſigh: Alas alas, all the teares in the world cannot waſh away the crime which Diana hath comitted: but I will make her reſent it, as well as I do, and make it appear unto the world how much I diſapprove of [...], and that I did not expect ſuch bad fruit from ſuch good education as I gave her. Yet, replied the Druide, I dare not accuſe her: for ſhe has been but half a day abſent from you, and perhaps when ſhe returns has a juſt and lawfull excuſe for it.

Oh Heaven (anſwered Bellinde) was it ſuch a heard matter to have asked my leave before ſhe went? But when I call to memorie her ſhifting anſweres which ſhe gave me yeſterday when I founded her mind, concerning her marriage with Paris (of whom ſhe is not worthy) I eaſily apprehend that ſhe had ſome deſign in her [...]ancy which is dangerous to diſcloſe, becauſe happly it might be prejudiciall unto her reputation and mine, we ſhall ſee ere long (ſaid Adamas) whether ſhe be to blame or no: mean time have no reaſon to afflict your ſelf as you do, in ſaying ſo, the Druide went a little towards the dore, and Thamires fearing to be ſurpriſed, he knocked, as one that had ſome earneſt buſineſs: Adamas therefore opened the dore, and Thamires ſeeing him alone with Bellinde he retreated two or three paces, as if he were afraid to diſturbe them, but the Druide deſiring him to enter, did ask him what news from Marcelles, to whom Thamires anſwered thus: Reverend Father the Nimph Amaſis commanded me to tell you, that [Page] now ſhe enjoyes a perfect peace by the ſolemn treaty which ſhe had with Ligonias, who came expreſly from to Burgudian King to conclude it: ſhe has deferred the day which once ſhe had appointed for the ſacrifice, untill the return of Roſilion, who as ſhe beleives will be back within theſe five or ſix dayes: And the Princes commanded me to aſſure you from them that they will be ready to ſerve you upon all occaſions I do hartily rejoyce (ſaid the Druide) at the happy eſtate wherein the affaires of that great Nimph are: and I am very glad ſhe has deferred the ſacrafice, by reaſon of ſome accidents that are faln upon me, Celedea, replied Thamires, told me ſomething confuſedly concerning Diana and Aſtrea, but I did not underſtand her meaning; it is (anſwered Adamas) that thoſe ſhepherdeſſes have not been within, all the day, and we are now in queſt to know what is become if them. I will go then (ſaid Thamires) and do my endeavours to find them: upon this, he humbly bowed himſelf, and whilſt the Druide returned unto his diſcourſe with Bellinde, he returned to Celedea. As ſoon as ſhe ſawe him coming ſhe roſe up, and taking his hand they went both togeather in queſt of theſe ſhepherdeſſes.

But it had been ſtrange if they had found them, for they fearing to be diverted from the deſign which they had concluded upon the night before, and doubting they ſhould be followed and ſought after, they were ſo carefull in hiding themſelves, as it was almoſt impoſſible to find them out.

They lay all the night togeather in a bed, and Leonide, who in the abſence of Alexis, would needs lie in their chamber, ſhe deſired Phillis to keep her Company: So as Aſtrea and Diana, after ſome triviall diſcourſe with Leonide and Phillis, as ſoon as they thought them aſleep, they began to talke freely of their common affliction. But Aſtrea being overcome with the diſcourſe of the Druide concerning the fortune of Celadon ſhe was the firſt who began to talke in theſe termes: Alas Siſter (ſaid ſhe and ſighed) muſt our miſeryes be eternall? are we predeſtined never to enjoy any contentment? I am no ſooner faln into one calamitie but in lieu of being delivered from it, I do find my ſelf ſeconded with another more ſenſible and great: I have heard Silvander ſometimes ſay that all things have their viciſſitude and change, but my miſery has none: and ſince fate began to perplexe the condition of my life, I never found any alteration. Siſter (ſaid Diana) certainly we are not ſuch whom fortune is pleaſed to ſmile upon, nor whom heaven is pleaſed to ſhower any favours: For my part, I am ſure that ſince Silander died, I never found any kind of ſweetneſs in my life, and I dare ſay it betwixt you and me, that the leaſt offence I received, has been the affection of Silvander, but as if fate were a profeſſed enemy unto my proſperitie, I had no ſooner grounded ſom [...] hopes in the amitie of that ſhepherd, but a thouſand obſtacles do intervene and oppoſe my happineſs: And ſo untowardly have I been croſſed, as the bitterneſs of it does not proceed from another but from my ſelf who gave the greateſt blow unto my happineſs: for I muſt needs ſay, that had I not given any credit unto thoſe reports which Laonice made unto me, I had never permitted Paris to go and treat with Bellinde concerning a marriage twixt him and me, nor ever ſeemed to like of his addreſs: Nor did I ever think he would have offered to poſſeſs me againſt my conſent, or that I ſhould; as I am now, be forced to commit an impardonable fault both againſt my own Love, and the ſatisfaction of Silvander. The gods me thinks (replied Aſtrea) ſhould be ſatisfied, ſince by the miſeryes which we have endured, they have ſufficientely revenged thoſe faults which we have committed, you againſt Silvander, and I againſt Celadon. And yet they perſecute us ſtill, nor do I think they will ceaſe untill our lives do ceaſe. If they will ceaſe then (ſaid Diana) their anger ſhall not laſt long: for I am reſolved to put an end unto my miſeryes ere long: and truely I think I ſhall be forced unto it, for I am not able to live one hour under the power of Paris. Upon this ſhe ſtopped a little, and then beginning again, ah Siſter, (continued ſhe) you have uſed a terme which goes unto my very heart when you ſaid, that you would applie that remedie unto your miſeryes, which diſpairs does teach ſuch as cannot ſuffer them, and I ſwear, that I do wiſh for death which as eager a deſire, as ever I did for any of fortunes favours. When I ſaid [Page] ſo (anſwered Aſtrea) I ſpoke it in my paſſion and as I thought. And I aſſure you my reſolution is as unalterable as the doom of fate is: for to what purpoſe ſhould I live, unleſs to taſt the bitterneſs of my misfortunes, and to conſider that moſt certainly I have committed ſome great ſin againſt the gods, ſince to puniſh me, they invent every day new tortures to torment me? No no Diana, it is much better to live with them, who, as they ſay, carouſe in full bow [...]s of Nectar and Ambroſia, in the Elizian fields: Let them deſire to live, who drink of ſuch ſweet Liquors here, and live only in the world to taſte the favours of Fortune; but ſuch as I, muſt not hope for any felicity in it, and therefore it is groſſe folly to deſire life: Did I not moſt perfectly know the humour of Celadon, and that when I commanded him to die, he would moſt infallibly do it, I might have ſome ground of hope to keep me alive; but ſince he is moſt certainly dead, I muſt confeſſe I cannot live.

And I (replied Diana) could find invitations enough to move me unto the ſame, and when I do conſider the preſent condition of my ſoul, doubtleſſe it is a lawful cauſe to deſire death: for if life be not ſweet, unleſſe it be accompanied with ſome, contentments, why ſhould I value mine, ſince I have loſt all hopes of any: As you could deſire to live for Celadons ſake, ſo could I for my Shepherd; but I ſee that cannot be, unleſs I accept of an alliance with Paris, and by conſequence, be a cauſe of Silvanders ruine, who hath ſworn not to live a minute after he hears it. Ah, dear Aſtrea, if we ſhould attempt to look death in the face, I am afraid we have not courage enough to grapple with it. As for you, replied Aſtrea, probably you may be afraid of death; but as for me, I have found out the beſt and moſt lawful way of dying, that any in the whole world can make choice of: I will die, for the happineſs and tranquility, not only of a Province, but of the whole Univerſe.

Diana, who did not know her meaning, ah Siſter (ſaid ſhe) I beſeech you let me know how you mean, that I may do the ſame: I do not think (anſwered Aſtrea) that any other then my ſelf ought to aſpire unto it: but yet I will tell you which way I mean, becauſe you ſhall not think I will conceal any thing from you, it is this: The Fountain of verity is as you know, ſo enchanted, as that enchantment can never have an end, but by the death of the moſt faithful he lover, and ſhe lover, that ever came into this Province. Now knowing that my fidelity is arrived at the higheſt pitch, that ever any womans can, I am reſolved to ſacrifice my ſelf for the Publick, till after my example ſome Shepherd will be found, who will expoſe himſelf for the worlds content alſo. Indeed (replied Diana) this is the braveſt and moſt glorious reſolution that ever entred into the thoughts of a woman: ah, Siſter, I ſhall eſteem my ſelf moſt happy to accompany you, and ſhare with you in the ſame Fortune.

Siſter (ſaid Aſtrea) I ſhould not refuſe your company, did I not know, that it is only one of our ſex that is to die: and I would not wiſh you to incur the danger: Come what danger the gods pleaſe, replied Diana, I will not forſake you, but will expoſe my ſelf unto any peril that can come. If you be ſo reſolved (ſaid Aſtrea) then we muſt carry our deſign as cloſe as poſſibly we can, and muſt not acquaint Phillis with it; for ſhe loving us as ſhe doth, ſhe will not ſuffer us to take that way, but will ſo obſtruct our deſign, as we ſhall never bring it to paſſe: To prevent which (ſaid Diana) let us go from hence before either Adamas or my mother be out of bed, for I fear they will ſend for us as ſoon as it is day, to make me marry Parris: But (ſaid Aſtrea) as ſoon as they miſſe us out of our chambers, they will follow after us, and if they find us, they will bring us back; and after that we ſhall never hope to ſteal away from their vigilant eyes: As for that, anſwered the Shepherdeſs, we ſhall not want a remedy; for as ſoon as ever we are gone out, we will hide our ſelves in ſome place or other all the day long, and when night comes, we will go unto the place which muſt put an end unto all our calamities. If we ſhould fall aſleep again (ſaid Aſtrea) it would but diſorder our deſign: I do not fear that (replied Diana) for though I would, yet it is impoſſible for me to take any reſt; and therefore Siſter let us dreſs our ſelves, now Leonide and Phillis are faſt aſleep, and cannot hear any noiſe we make. Upon [Page] this, Diana aroſe out of her bed, and finding her clothes; by the help of the Moon, did dreſſe her ſelf very handſomely: Aſtrea did the like; and afterwards both lay down upon the bed again, till the night was a little further ſpent.

They were no ſooner laid down, but they heard Phillis ſigh, and becauſe her ſighs were mixed with ſome lamentable groans, they thought that perhaps their deſign was diſcovered; and to make them the more believe it, ſhe began to cry out; what? without me? Ah Siſter, ah Diana, no, no, no: by theſe words of Siſter; and Diana, they thought all was diſcovered, and were ſo affrighted, that Aſtrea roſe up to tell her all the ſecret of their voyage; but ſtooping to whiſper her in the ear, left Leonide ſhould hear, ſhe ſaw her eyes ſhut, upon which Aſtrea did infallibly conclude, that certainly ſhe only ſpoke in her ſleep: ſhe ſaw alſo tears trickle down her cheeks; which moved Aſtrea unto ſo much compaſſion, as ſhe alſo could not chuſe but weep.

So ſhe returned to her companion, and aſſuring her, that Phillis was aſleep, Siſter (ſaid Diana unto her) let us go out of the chamber, and try if we can get out of the houſe; it will be day before we are aware. Let us go then (ſaid Aſtrea) but make as little noiſe as we can, left we ſhould waken Leonide or Phillis. In ſaying ſo, ſhe gently opened the door, and ſoftly treading down the ſtairs, they came into the Court.

As ſoon as they appeared in the Court, two great doggs, which were kept for the guard of the houſe, began to bark, & put them into ſuch a fright, as they turned back and ſuddenly ſhut the door at the ſtair foot: afterwards, they ſaw the fellow who kept the keyes of the gates, and who roſe up at the noiſe which the doggs made: a little after they ſaw him open the gates and look about him, and went in again with his doggs into a little room, and ſhut the door after him, leaving the key of the gates in the lock: This made them a little more confident, ſo as they thought, that if they ſtayed but a while till the fellow was aſleep, they might gently croſs the Court, and get out; which they did, with as many timerous apprehenſions, as if they had committed ſome great crime.

As ſoon as they were out, they took upon the left hand, and began to run as faſt as ever they could, ſtill looking back to ſee whether any followed. When they were quite out of breath they ſtopped; and after they had blowed, and a little recovered themſelves, Diana, who was moſt affrighted: O my God, Siſter (ſaid ſhe) what ſhall I do? ſhall I have courage enough to compleat our deſign, who have ſo little at the beginning of it? We are about to accompliſh a reſolution (ſaid Aſtrea which will free us from the Tyranny of all thoſe miſeries which have tormented us; and therefore we muſt not faint but take courage, ſince upon this action depends the reſt which we are to enjoy in the ſecond life. I do know very well (replied Diana) what benefit will acrue unto us by it; but for all that I cannot chuſe but ſtartle at the way, by which we are to arrive at it. Yet dear companion (continued ſhe and kiſſed Aſtrea) your preſence does put me into ſome heart, and makes me think, that no ill which can happen unto me, can be ſo great, but the pleaſure I take in your company is greater. Siſter (replied Aſtrea) in that you will find but ſmall contentment, and I much; but not to trifle away our time in ſuch diſcourſe, let us look out ſome convenient place to hide our ſelves, and make proviſion of ſuch fruits as we can find upon the trees; for I conſider, that ſince we muſt not ſtirr from our ſecret lodging all the day, probably we ſhall find a neceſſity of eating: Truly (ſaid Diana) it is ſtrange, to find in one and the ſame mind, two ſuch different wills: We came out this morning with an unalterable reſolution to die, and yet we talk of eating, as if we had ſome extraordinary care of our lives. And ſo I have, anſwered Astrea, becauſe I would not for a world die any other death, then ſuch as will diſenchant the Fountain unto which we are going. Well, ſaid Diana, let us then gather ſome fruits; let us eat, and let us die, I will do whatere you pleaſe.

In ſaying ſo, they went forwards towards the banks of Lignon, reſolving to ſtay at the firſt place which they ſhould think fit for a lurking hole all the day. As they went, they gathered fruits, and after a long walk, Arſtea ſaw Aurora to appear, [Page] and afterwards the Sun, gilding the tops of the mountains, and by degrees deſcending into the valleyes to give them the ſame luſter, they made the more haſte to find out a cloſe habitation; and were more inquiſitive then before, they lodged themſelves in ſeveral places; but like Criminals, who never think their place of retreat ſafe enough, unleſſe it be the very center of the earth, and ſtill imagine themſelves expoſed to the ſight of all the world; ſo did they, in what place ſoever they found. At laſt, after much wandering and ſeeking up and down, they found upon the ſide of the River a little Cavern, which ſeemed to ſute very well with their minds, and there they reſolved to ſtay. Into it they entred then, though with much ado, by reaſon of the thick buſhes which hindred them; and ſitting down upon the Cuſſions of Moſſe, which ſeemed as if they had been made by Art, they waited, and prepared themſelves for any Fortune that heaven would ſend them.

Almoſt at the very ſame time, Phillis, whom they left in bed, did waken; and becauſe ſhe had ſtill a confuſed memory of ſome troubleſome dreams which had diſturbed her all night long, ſhe aroſe gently from Leonide, to go unto her companions bed, and give them an accompt of her melancholy Fancies; but when ſhe found them not there, nor ſaw any of their clothes, ſhe began to doubt ſomthing, and to fear ſuch misfortunes as her dreams bad threatned her withall. Firſt ſhe drew the window curtains, and ſeeing the Sun up; what ſtrange haſte (ſaid ſhe to her ſelf) has Aſtrea and Diana made to riſe more early then uſual? afterwards, bethinking her ſelf why they ſhould go out of the chamber without telling her; but why (ſaid ſhe) ſhould they leave me in bed? how long have I been held in ſuſpicion amongſt them? ah Siſter, ah Diana, I did not think you would ever have failed in that duty which was owing unto our common Amity? In ſaying thus, this Shepherdeſſe did, by little and little, dreſſe her ſelf; and as ſoon as ſhe was ready, ſhe went down the ſtairs, and went into the Hall; but finding no body, ſhe ran into the gallery: afterwards going into the Court, and not meeting any one of the domeſtiques, ſhe was even at deaths door; and not knowing what courſe to take in that extremity, ſhe returned into her chamber, and wakening Leonide: Pardon me fair Nymph, ſaid ſhe, for interrupting your reſt; I am undone, if you do not help me unto ſome remedie againſt my perplexities. Aſtrea and Diana are not here, and I fear, ſince they conceal their flight from me, that they are gone to do ſome violence upon themſelves in ſome place or other. Leonide extreamly aſtoniſhed at this, for ſhe knew the ſtate of their ſouls and their loves, ſhe dreſſed her ſelf as faſt as ever ſhe could; and afterwards both went together unto him who kept the gates, to know of him whether any went out. The fellow ſwore unto them, that he opened not the door unto any: True it was, he heard the doggs barks a little before day; but riſing up and ſeeing no body, he went to bed again, and ſlept ever ſince without hearing any noiſe.

Leonide and Phillis, in a great amazement went to the gates, and finding the Key in the door, they knew then the Shepherdeſſes paſſed out that way. They conceived the beſt way was to acquaint the Druide, and waiting till he was up, they went into the gallery; in which they no ſooner were, but Phillis being unable to withold her tears any longer: Alas Madam, ſaid ſhe, my heart foretold me all this; and to my grief, I was but too true a Prophet of that which falls our. I have been tormented all the night long with ſtrange inquietudes, and troubled with ſo many melancholly imaginations, as I never ſlept worſe in all my life. Dreams, anſwered Leonide, are only illuſions and Fancies, and no truth or credit is to be grounded upon them.

Ah, ſage Nymph, replied the Shepherdeſſe, aſſure your ſelf they are not ſo at this time, for I ſaw every thing as perfectly, as if I had been awake: For, Madam, be pleaſed to know, that after I was aſleep, and thought it about midnight, me thought I ſaw the ghoſts of Celadon and Silvander approch unto the bed of Aſtrea and Diana; and that of Celadon being more offended then the other, it ſaid unto my ſiſter, in a tone mixed both of love and anger, ungrateful Shepherdeſſe, Celadon is dead, and indeed in obedience to your unjuſt command; and it is your duty alſo to die at his moſt juſt requeſt: behold here his ghoſt which waits [Page] to conduct you into the Elizian fields, and which will never ceaſe tormenting you, until the very laſt minute of your life.

Then the other, me thought, began to ſpeak; and you Diana (ſaid he unto her) who by the power of your charms has triumphed over me, if you retain any memory of my fidelity, keep conſtant unto the affection which you promiſed me; and after my example rather reſolve to die, then live under the reproach of infidelite. After this, the ghoſt was ſilent, as I think, to harken unto Aſtrea, who in anſwere to the firſt, yes, yes Celadon (ſaid ſhe) I will ſatisfie thy requeſt; I will with all my heart lay off the burthen of this body and accompany thy ſoul whither ſoever thou wilt conduct me.

Afterwards Diana in anſwere, and you Silvander (ſaid ſhe) be ſure thou doſt not depart from me, I will make my ſelf inſeperable from thy bleſſed ſoul, ſo as though we could not unite our ſelves during our lives, yet we will after our deaths. In ſaying ſo they dreſſed themſelves, and afterwards following theſe two ghoſts who were their guides, they are gone to caſt themſelves into the armes of love, who having ſome compaſſion upon them, has given them that contentment which they asked. I remember well, that I did what I could to keep them from following; I wept, I was angrey, I cryed out ſometimes againſt Aſtrea, ſometimes againſt Diana, telling them they ought not to attempt any thing without me: but theſe ungratfull Companions ſlighted me, and went away without ſo much as bidding me adieu. Thoſe accidents which hapned yeſterday (ſaid Leonide) are the cauſe of theſe imaginations: for they ſay, it is the qualitie of dreams to fill our fancies in the night time, with ſuch things as entertained it in the day: And theſe ghoſts of Celadon and Silvander: their diſcourſe with the ſhepherdeſſes, their anſwers and reſolutions, all theſe are drawn from the deſign which Celadon reſolved upon to die, from the complaints which he made againſt Aſtrea, and from the reaſon which Silvander had to hinder Diana, from marrying Paris. However it be, replied Phillis, you ſee, Diana and Aſtrea are gone, and you ſee ſome part of my dream is more then fancy. That, anſwered the Nymph, is rather from ſome other accident: for it may be, that thoſe two fair ones waking betimes in the morning they went to divert themſelves without any ſuch deſigns as you ſuſpect, no no Madam (ſaid Phillis) they would never have gone without telling me, unleſs they had ſome ſtrange reſolution to execute: but (continued ſhe) I will follow them whether they will or no, and as cunning as they are to hide themſelves from me, It ſhall go heard, but I will find them out:

In ſaying ſo, they went out of the Gallery; and hearing that Adamas was out of bed, Phillis went unto him to acquaint him with the flight of her Companions: At the firſt, the Druide laughed at it: for he thought it to be only ſome paſſage of merriment: but when he heard and conſidered all circumſtances, and examined the porter, he thought what Phillis ſaid was not without ſome probabilitie. Then began he to call into memory the laſt command which Aſtrea laid upon Celadon, and that to make him ſome ſatisfaction, ſhe might attempt ſome deſperate act; Then did he think the apprehenſions of Phillis to be juſt: but ſearching into the cauſe why Diana alſo ſhould fly away, he thought that the intimacy of friendſhip which was between her and Aſtrea, might perhaps make her forget her duty unto the commands of Bellinde: ſo being confirmed in his fears that theſe fair ones might make ſome deſperate attempts upon themſelves he deſired all the ſhepherds and ſhepherdeſſes in the houſe, to run after them, which they did: For, Hylas, Stella, Celadon, Phillis, Adraſtes, Doris, Leonide alſo, and others, they all went imediatly in queſt after them, and none was left behind but Celedea, who ſtayed for the return of Thamires, to oblige him alſo to go with her, after them.

Every one that went in this queſt took a ſeverall way: ſome went into the woods; others into the plaines, and Phillis guided by a better genius, took all along the river Lignon: ſhe had not walked much above half an hower, before ſhe ſpide Lycidas lying all along upon the graſs, by the river ſide, and ſo neer the water that he dipped his hand in the little waves which the wind did gently daſh againſt the bankes; this encounter did infinitely joy her, for ſhe longed extreamly [Page] to ſee him, that ſhe might acquaint him with the condition of Celadon: making therefore a little more haſte ſhe ſurprized him; good morrow Lycidas (ſaid ſhe unto him) where is Celadon? Upon this ſhe ſate down by him, and the Shepherd turning himſelf towards her, much amazed to meet her alone, in a place ſo little frequented; Miſtreſſe (anſwered he with a ſigh) certainly he is not in our coaſts, ſince I find him not here: I have taken all the pains that poſſibly I could to find him, ſo as I believe he has caſt himſelf again into the river of Lignon: for there is not any cloſe corner in all the Woods, which ſince yeſterday I have not moſt carefully ſearched: if he be dead, replied Phillis, I fear Aſtrea is followed him; for ſhe ſtole away from me, and I cannot deviſe which way ſhe is gone: Diana, I believe is with her; for no news can be heard of either: I know very well ſhe repents heartily of her uſing Celadon ſo harſhly, and is in ſuch a rage as is apt enough to drive into deſpair. Her repentance, replied Lycidas, cannot be ſo great as the crime which ſhe has committed both agai [...] my brother and me; and herein, it reflects upon you: for it, as you have often told me, you think your ſelf concerned in any accidents which befal me, certainly ſhe has diſobeyed you, by the injuries which ſhe has done unto me: ah Licidas (ſaid Phillis) ſhe has angred me exceedingly by offending you; but I muſt tell you, that if it were as eaſie a matter to remedy thoſe misfortunes which are hapned, as it is for me to pardon her, we ſhould quickly enjoy that happineſſe, which now we cannot hope for: for you muſt know Lycidas, that as great as you think the faults are which Aſtrea hath committed, ſhe does not want arguments to excuſe her ſelf, and to juſtifie all thoſe reſentments which ſhe hath teſtified. Phillis (ſaid Licidas and interrupted her) if you will have me believe you love me, for god ſake do not take part with that inhumane woman: I doubt not but ſhe has invented all that her wit can deviſe to diſcharge her ſelf of her ſins; but you and I have been long acquainted, and knows her humour to a hairs bredth: We, I ſay, cannot doubt of the crime, in ſinning againſt the fidelity of Celadon: Alas, alas, (continued he) when I call to mind how he has lived, and what he has ſuffered for this pieviſh woman, it would make any other heart, but this inſenſible womans, to bleed: in what a hell of miſery did he live, when he confined himſelf to the Cave? never was man more undone then he: his hair was grown long and diſorderly like a wilde mans: his face was grown ſo lean, as it ſeemed longer by half then it was when he was well: his eyes, which you know were beautiful and lovely, they were ſo ſhrunk into his head, that you could not ſee them: his comp [...]exion was grown yellow, and ſo changed, as none could know him: As I remember (ſaid Phillis) you told me that his cave was cloſe by the river Lignon: ſo it was, anſwered Licidas, and if you deſire to ſee it, you need only but turn your head, for it is within ten paces of you: The entrance into it is not very eaſie; for I ſee many buſhes, briers, and ruſhes at the mouth of it, but it is very handſome within.

In ſaying ſo, Phillis and Licidas roſe up, and went unto the door of this Grotto: As ſoon as Phillis was near, ſhe put forward her head to look in; but not being able to ſee any thing, by reaſon of the buſhes and obſcurity, ſhe began to make her way through: I have ſo great a deſire (ſaid ſhe) to ſee Celadons habitation, that though I tear half my skin with theſe bryers, yet I will enter in. The Shepherd, who feared that ſhe would do her ſelf ſome harm, he ſtayed her, and ſaid, that rather then ſhe ſhould receive any hurt, he would make the way more eaſie for her: and indeed he took his ſheephook, and broke down the buſhes and bryers that grew before the entrance.

God knows how extreamly Aſtrea and Diana were aſtoniſhed at this; for thoſe two Shepherdeſſes who were hid in this cave, as a place of ſafety, they heard every word that paſſed between Licidas and Phillis: At firſt they thought that chance only had brought them to that place; but when they heard Phillis come near the Grotto, and would needs look in, they thought it a piece of witchcraft; and that it was impoſſible ſhe ſhould find out that place, but that way. Yet rereſolving to ſtay and ſee the furtheſt, at the firſt blow which Licidas gave to break down the bryers, they roſe up, and placed themſelves in the darkeſt corner they [Page] could find. They had no ſooner hid themſelves as well as they could but Phillis entred, who having but a very little light, becauſe ſhe ſtanding in the dore, did take away the moſt, ſhe durſt not go very much further; but ſtopping at the firſt ſtep, Licidas (ſaid ſhe) was Celadon here ſix months together? He was there, anſwered the Shepherd, all the while his baniſhment laſted: for he never came out, unleſſe ſometimes to mingle his tears with the waves of the water, and truſt it with the ſecrets of his amorous thoughts. Truly, replied ſhe, I could not hold out half a day here, for the place is too full of horrour for me, becauſe I fear nothing in the world more then darkneſſe. When one is within, replied the Shepherd, it will not ſeem ſo dark, eſpecially: after a little ſtay there; which I do not intend to try (ſaid Phillis) and went haſtily back, for the place is fitter for ſerpents then men or women.

In ſaying ſo, ſhe went out, to the great contentment of Aſtrea and Diana, who feared extreamly, that ſhe would find them out, which certainly ſhe had done, if ſhe had ſtayed never ſo little longer: for then her eyes would have been accuſtomed unto the gloomineſſe of the place, which at the firſt coming out of the Suns brightneſſe, ſeemed there to be blind. As ſoon as ſhe was out, Licidas and ſhe went unto the place where they ſate before; and the Shepherd beginning diſcourſe firſt: But my deareſt Phillis (ſaid he unto her) is it poſſible Aſtrea ſhould undertake any deſign without acquainting you? believe it (anſwered Phillis) it angers me ſhe ſhould; and if ever I do ſee her again, I ſhall chide her more then perhaps ſhe imagines I will. But not with ſo much reaſon as I have (ſaid Licidas) for abuſing Celadon as ſhe hath. However, replied the Shepherdeſſe, I will let her ſee how ill ſhe has obſerved thoſe Laws that were eſtabliſhed amongſt us. Alas, alas, replied the Shepherd: how ſhould ſhe obſerve the Laws of friendſhip, when ſhe has ſo cruelly offended againſt the Laws of Love? We have the greater cauſe to complain againſt her (ſaid Phillis) and that it were only to puniſh her for it, I will continue on my voyage, and will not ſpare any pains of care to find out this ungrateful woman. Well, ſaid Licidas, I am ſure you have more pity and care of her, then ſhe hath of us; and ſince you deſire it, I do wiſh you as much contentment in your queſt of that cruel one, us I do unto my ſelf in ſeeking Celadon.

After ſome other diſcourſe they parted: and Phillis taking her way, Licidas ſtayed ſtill by the ſide of the river, where a plump of Willows, made a very delectable ſhade; and after he had ſpent a good part of the day under it (for he was very weary with looking up and down) he ſaid himſelf all along upon the graſſe, not being able to reſiſt a heavy inclination to ſleep which ſurprized him, for he had neither ſlept nor reſted all the night before.

But how great ſoever the inquietudes of Licidas were, yet were they nothing comparable to the reſtleſſe cares and cold fears of Silvander: For this amorous Shepherd having loſt himſelf in the thick of the wood, and being ſurprized by the obſcurity of the night, he reſolved to ſtay and enjoy the freſh air, although it was nothing able to allay or cool the flame which conſumed him. He ſeated himſelf therefore upon the ground, and leaning his head againſt the bulk of an ancient and ſhady oak, there was not one accident of all his life, which did not preſent it ſelf into his memory, not to comfort him, but to make him think the condition whereunto he was reduced the more intollerable: He continued in theſe reſtleſſe thoughts very near two hours; but when he ſaw the Moon appear, then did his ſorrows encreaſe, as if it were fatal unto him to have his fury take beginning from her: yet taking this Planet for a witneſſe of his misfortunes, fair Cinthia (ſaid he) who by the luſter of thy radiant beams ſeems to diſpute with thy brother, the Sun, for ſupremacy of brightneſſe: Glorious light, which in thy courſe about the world, is pleaſed to make another day where ere thou ſheweſt thy ſelf: Clear Planet, which does diſcover and ſee all thoſe ſweet ſecrets which are taught in the Schools of Love, tell me, for pities ſake, if ever thou didſt hear any complaints more juſt then theſe I make, and whether it be poſſible any mortal ſhould be a more real Lover, or more afflicted then my ſelf: then ſtaying, and muſing a while, and afterwards breaking out again: O thou delightful flame, [Page] glorious Moon, ſhalt thou never ſee me contented? Wilt thou never bleſſe me with any kind influence? I conjure the by my love, to ſhower down ſome ſweet influences upon my Miſtreſſe: Move her heart: ſhe is fair, and ſhe is Diana, as thou art. Upon this Silvander was ſilent, and in his ſilence giving his greifes their full liberty, he wiſht for death a hundred times, and complained againſt Diana, the Huntereſs, who formely did dwell in forreſts, that ſhe and her Nymph had diſtroyed all the Lyons and Tigers in the Countrey, and not left one to devour him. After this, conſidering what little or no hopes he had ever to enjoy Diana, he did ſo abundon himſelf unto greif, that is probable he had been for ever loſt, if ſleep more kind unto him then himſelf, had not in ſome for, allayed the bitterneſs of it and made him find ſome eaſe in his inquietudes. But as if this reſt were only to enable him for the enduring of more miſeryes, he no ſooner waked and ſeeing the ſun a good height, he reſolved to enquire of ſome or other what ſucceſs the deſign had of marrying Diana: Up therefore he got, and finding a path way, he followed it yet not knowing which way it would lead him: he had not walked above a quarter of an hower or there abouts, but he heard very near him the ſound of a flute; and turning that way, he eſpied ſome ſheep paſſing a long, and after them a young boy dancing and playing both togeather. This boy was all alone, which made Silvander imagine, that he had ſome great cauſe of mirth, ſince he was ſo merry by himſelf: Silvander no ſooner came near him, but the young ſhepherd left of dancing and turning his face towards Silvander, Silvander knew him for it was the boy that looked to his flocks.

As ſoon as the young fellow ſaw his Maſter, he ran unto him, and ſeemed to wonder that he was not amongſt the reſt of the ſhepherds. Silvander, who ſometimes took delight in talking with him, becauſe of his pritty innocent anſweres, where wouldſt thou have me be but with my flocks (ſaid Silvander) ah Maſter (ſaid the boy) it is ſo long ſince you uſed to have ſo much care as to viſit them, as I cannot beleive any thoughts of them brought you unto them now. Indeed (ſaid Silvander) it is a meer chance I met thee now: but ſince I am here, I am reſolved not to forſake them any more. I beleive (ſaid the boy) you do not intend to be abſent ſo long again: but I know you will leave your flocks a little, if it be but to go unto the houſe of Adamas where a great feaſt is kept: what feaſt? (asked Silvander and was a little ſurpriſed) a feaſt (replied the boy) for the marriage of Paris with a young ſhepherdeſs, who is the daughter of a certaine woman, whom they call, I know not what: Doubtleſs (ſaid Silvander) it is Bellinde: the very ſame (ſaid the boy,) and he who keeps the flock of Lycidas told me, that they ſay the marriage is paſt, for Hoboyes and Bagpipes were gone thither, that the ſhepherds and ſhepherdeſſes might dance and be merry togeather. Silvander raviſhed at the diſorder of his anſwere, but confirmed in his opinion, that this marriage was in effect accompliſhed, he retired himſelf without any ſhew of tranſport, and without recomending his flocks unto him that had the charge of them, as having neither any hopes or mind ever to ſee them again: he went once more into the thick of the wood again, and having walked a little way, his ſtrength began to faile, and a great trembling ſeized upon him; and therefore not being able to ſuſtaine himſelf, he leaned againſt a tree, and by degrees ſinking down to the ground he fell all along at the tree roote: he lay neer an howre as if he had been in a ſwound: but at laſt, ſeeing his faintreſs would not give him that death which he deſired, he reſolved to give himſelf that eaſe which nothing elſe would: Now did he know that it is much eaſier to give good counſell unto others, then to take it himſelf, for he who had often blamed all ſuch who for want of courage to graple and bear an affliction, did ſuffer themſelves to ſink under the burthen of diſpair, he himſelf was ready to commit the ſame fault and yeild unto the violence of it. The greateſt enemy he had was his own imagination which never thought upon Dianas obedience but he found ſome ſuggeſtion to taxe her with ingratitude & infidelitie. Afterwards thinking upon the good fortune of Paris, and of his own ill fortune, alas (ſaid he) how blindly are the deſtinies of men decreed? Good gods? muſt I becauſe I, am not rich enough, nor well enough known, loſe in one moment all that my affiduitie and [Page] faithfull ſervices have meritted from that fickle Shepherdeſs? Was [...]ver age ſo depraved as this? Did nature ever govern with ſuch little order as now? Muſt men be weighed, and eſteemed according to their riches? Is money the only thing that makes a man? Ah Bellinde: Ah Diana: what an unworthy eſtimate is this? Then ſtopping a little: but ſenſleſs man that I am, (ſaid he upon a ſudden, and reprehended him) I am extreamly to blame my ſelf for finding fault with the choiſe which they have made, as if Paris were deficient in any thing which may render a man moſt exquiſitly accompliſhed: No no Bellinde, you owed unto his merit as much as you did; but Diana, ſhe owed her ſelf unto my love, ſhe, ſhe, alone, is too blame; for how great ſoever the qualitie of Paris be, and let the virtues of his ſoul be never ſo many, yet ſhe has ſhewed more affection unto me, then him; and it was ſhe only who gave my ambition leave to aſpire ſo high as the glorie of pretending unto her: And yet will this inconſtant woman, ſacrifice me upon that altar of which Paris is the god. This perfideous fair one Laughes at my miſery, and has forgot all oathes of fidelitie, that ever ſhe ſwore unto me: Ah moſt cruel fair one, I do ſee you joyed in the ſweets of his embraces, whilſt I die in that horrid diſpaire into which your inconſtancy hath brought me: I ſee you, Diana, take life from the moiſt and warme lippes of my Rivall; but I ſhall never ſee any of my hopes ever revive again, for you have ſtifled them under the rigour of your change: ah happy Paris, how many glorious beauties are this day ſubmitted unto thy mercy? How gloriouſly mayeſt thou tryumph over thy rich ſpoiles? Ah Silvander, how unfortunate thou art, in ever deſiring them, in ever hoping for them, and in being ſo miſerably diſtant from all meanes of ever enjoying them.

Upon this he ſtopt to give the more liberty unto thoſe ſighes and groanes which his ſorrowes ſent from his breſt: And after he had long ſighed and ſobbed, ſtill thinking upon thoſe delights which he fancied Paris to enjoy: but poor and unfortunate Shepherd (ſaid he upon a ſudden) to what purpoſe is it to murmure eyther againſt the deſtinies, or her? The doome which hath ſubmitted Diana unto the power of Paris, is irrevocable: and ſince ſhe has ſo much power over her ſelf as to conſent unto it, I have now ſo much libertie as to do what I will with my ſelf: in ſaying ſo, he remembred the laſt words which he heard Diana ſpeak, and knowing that ſhe did not forbid him any longer then till he heard of her marriage: Now (ſaid he) my diſign has no obſtacle, and ſince there is no ſpark of any hope left in my ſoul, her forbiddance to die is determined: dye then Silvander, and ſoon, ſince the deſtines will have it ſo, and ſince Diana conſents unto it. Then being fully reſolved to put an end unto his life, he began to think of ſuch meanes as might moſt eaſily ſhew him the way, and after he had thought upon the way of poiſon, upon the way of ſword, and upon the way of water: Theſe remedies (ſaid he to himſelf) me thinks are very incertaine, and too far off to be applied unto a diſeaſe ſo deſperate, as requires a more near and ſpeedy aſſiſtance: for it is to be feared that if I ſhould make uſe of poiſon, I may be deceaved, as Ligdamon was, and ſo make my intention too much known: Should I imploy a ſword, Cryſerde ſhe opened her veines, and the blood which congealed in the orifice of the wound, was a cauſe that ſhe did not die: and ſhould I throw my ſelf into Lignon perhaps ſome fiſherman will take me up as Damon was; ſo as I doubt that none of theſe three wayes can give me ſuch a death as I deſire: then beginning to think upon it, by fortune he caſt his eye upon the ſame rock, from whence Laonice uſed ſometimes to veiw thoſe beauties, which the plain of Forreſts did preſent unto the eyes of the inhabitants: And imagining that it was a thing moſt impoſſible he ſhould not periſh there if he did precipitate himſelf from that top to the bottom, he ſtayed himſelf upon the thoughts of this kind of death: Yes yes [...] ſaid he this death will be the moſt honourable I can chuſe, and moſt ſutable unto the ſtate of my love: for puniſhments ought in ſome ſort to equall the offences; and is it not juſt that ſince I aſpired higher then it was my humble duty to pretend unto, I ſhould fall from ſuch a precipice as wil be mortall unto me? Now this which almoſt reaches heaven, may be taken for an Emblem of Dianas perfections, which are as far above the common ſort, as it is from the level of the [Page] earth: I, out of an indiſcreet vanitie did think to arrive at the top of my hopes: afterwards; precipitating my ſelf, I find my ſelf almoſt reduced to duſt and all my raſh deſires converted into ſmoak: In ſaying ſo, he went towards Mount-Verdun, yet chaſing the leaſt frequented way, leaſt he ſhould be hindred in his diſign by meeting any.

On the other ſide: Alexis was no ſooner eſcaped out of Leonides hands but he began to prepare himſelf for the execution of Aſtreas command, and as if the gods were minded to make his fortune, in ſome ſort, equall unto Silvanders, as ſoon as ſhe was at libertie, and amongſt the horrors of darkneſſe, ſhe diſputed whether the night or her ſorrows were the blacker, or whether both were ſo diſmall as the cruelty of Aſtrea; ſhe began to conſult with her ſoul which way ſhe ſhould take to find a ſuddain death. There was no invention to make one ſelf away which came not into her fancy. But a good genius, and perhaps the very ſame which inſpired Aſtrea did perſwade him, that he could not loſe his life more gloriouſly then in helping to diſenchant the fountain of loves veritie: ſo he fixed upon this reſolution: The only obſtacle in her diſign was, ſhe knew not where to find a female lover ſo faithfull as to attempt the ſame: for (ſaid ſhe to her ſelf) Aſtrea doubtleſſe does love her life too well, and ſince ſhe who is to die, muſt be one that has lived in a moſt inviolable fidelitie what know I but that ungratful Shepherdeſſe is ſtained with the crime of ſome new change? Diana me thinks alſo ſhould not be accepted off for ſhe has burned in two ſeverall flames through thee love of two Shepherds who ſerved her: and Phillis who has to her very hearts deſire guſted all the delight of a pure and holy amitie, ſhe will not forſake Lycidas upon any termes in the world: yet Celadon (ſaid he) it is not for the to prye too narrowly into the ſecrets of the gods: Content thy ſelf, with this, that thou muſt die: never ſtay therefore untill diſpair have driven ſome femal lover to be the Companion of thy fate: it is ſufficient for thee to ſhew the way, and to make it known unto poſteritie, that never any love was more pure and holy then thine. Then did he lift up his eyes to heaven, and obſerving that darkneſſe did begin to vaniſh by reaſon of the moones new light, he ſate down upon the ground untill it was a little lighter: but being very weary with walking, he was no ſooner upon the green graſſe, but being overcome with ſleep, he ſlept till morning.

Aurora ſurpriſed him at his waking, and as if ſhe would ſhed ſome teares for the diſgrace of this Shepherd, ſhe had wet his checks, with the humiditie of her dew. When he waked, and knew not whether he ſhould be ſad or glad for paſſing away the night without any farther progreſſe in his deſign; This reſt I have taken (ſaid he) has made me waite with leſſe impatience for that glorious light which is to be a witneſſe of my love and courage. It is for criminalls to fſie the light, but to ſuch whoſe actions are honorable, the day cannot be too clear. Upon this Alexis aroſe, with a deſign to go away: but hearing ſome noiſe ſhe ſtayed, and ſpied Silvander, who having broken ſome branches which hindred his paſſage, did paſſe through the wood with much haſt. The face of this Shepherd, having all the ſignes of diſpair in it, did much trouble Alexis, becauſe ſhe was a reall lover of his virtue: ſo as deſiring to know the cauſe, and thinking he would not conceale himſelf, ſhe began to follow him, and reſolved not to leave him untill ſhe had ſome long diſcourſe with him.

Silvander in the mean time who had nothing in his thoughts but a deſire of death, at every ſtep he went, he felt ſome new conſolation in his ſoul becauſe he drew ſo much nearer the place which he had choſen to put an end unto his dayes: ſo as not thinking any followed him, nor ever looking back, he came out of the wood, and got up to the toop of the higheſt rock of all thoſe which Joyn unto Moutverdan, having ſtill Alexis at his back, who wondering Silvander ſhould take ſo much paines to go unto that place which perhaps never any Shepherd before him, had ſo much curioſitie as to viſit: there Silvander ſtayed; great gods (ſaid he) whoſe pleaſure hath been to ſubmit my ſoul, ever ſince I was born, unto all ſorts of ſorrows. Heer I am, ready to obay that fate which hath followed all the actions of my life; Happy I am at this laſt moment, that I have not by any ſin, rendred my ſoul neither guilty nor acceſſarie unto the miſeryes which are [Page] falne upon me: Now Diana have I found that welcome remedy againſt all my miſeryes which I have longed to be delivered from. Pardon me Diana, if I have in any manner failed in any reſpects which I owed unto you: and how great ſoever any of my faults are, I do conjure you to beleive, that I never failed in my love; And you Bellinde, who by a moſt intollerable tiranny has forced Diana to receive the imbraces of Paris, if ere my death do come to be know unto you, never beſtow any ſighes or teares upon me, for it is ſufficient, theſe rockes will weep, and Zepherus will ſigh for my ſad diſaſter: In ſaying ſo, he ſteped to the very brink if the praecipice, and Celadon who feared extreamly leaſt he ſhould caſt him ſelf down, he ſteped forward to prevent him, and laying hold upon him, fie, fie Silvander (ſaid Alexis to him) heaven would not have you caſt your ſelf away. Silvander upon this turning himſelf about, and looking upon her with the very face of death, ah too pittifull Alexis (ſaid he) what Demon ſent you hither to hinder me from that contentment which the gods did promiſe unto me? The moſt kind one (anſwered Alexis) of all thoſe that have any care of your life: Nay, ſaid Silvander; it was rather the greateſt enemy unto my tranquilitie: who ever it was (replied Alexis and would not let go her hold) you ſhall not die at this time, and if you have any reſpect unto the ranke which my birth conferred upon me, grant unto me one requeſt which I ſhall make unto you, which is, to lend an ear unto ſome things which I muſt comunicate unto you. Silvander ſeeing himſelf obliged to obey the commands of Celadon, whom he thought to be a woman and a Druide, he retired himſelf a little from the edge of the praecipice, and both of them being a little removed from it, they ſat down upon another rock which was convenient for that purpoſe: and there Celadon began to talk unto him in theſe termes. You will wonder Silvander, at the diſcourſe which I ſhall make unto you: and the more, becauſe you are blinded with the ſame miſtake which Astrea, Diana, Phillis, Lycidas, and all the Shepherds and Shepherdeſſes are, concerning me: For you muſt know Silvander, that this habit wherin I am, is nothing ſutable to my ſexe, and though it be the habit of a Druide, yet it is upon the body of a Shepherd, and to be ſhort Silvander, upon the body of Celadon: at the ſound of Celadon, Silvander ſtood amuſed; And Alexis contiuning, and to the end (ſaid ſhe) that you may render unto thoſe that ſurvive me a teſtimonie of my diſcretion and of my love, I do conjure you to harken with patience unto the relation of my fortune, and afterwards to grant me a requeſt which I have unto you, and for which only I followed you, not knowing you had any ſuch ill intentions againſt your ſelf, as you ſeem to have. Silvander not being able to recover himſelf out of his aſtoniſhment, he did not anſwere one word; but looking him ſtedfaſtly in the face, he did let him know by his ſilence, that he would willingly hear him; And therefore Celadon related unto him, all that ever hapned unto him ſince he threw himſelf into Lignon: and having told him in what manner Leonide made him known unto his Shepherdeſſe: Now (ſaid he) this cruel and ungratfull woman, in lieu of ever conſidering the teſtimonies which ſhe had received of my love and obedience, ſhe commanded me to die, and that ſo peremptorily, as it is impoſſible but I muſt needs obey her. Now that which I deſire from you, ſage Silvander, is, that you would be pleaſed to take ſo much paines, as to go tell Lycidas from me, that I deſire him as he loves me not to trouble himſelf at my death, nor to take any revenge upon Aſtrea for the crimes which her rigour hath committed againſt him, and againſt me: In the mean time I will go and content that in humain woman, and expoſe my ſelf unto the rage of thoſe Lyons and unicornes which guard the enchanted fountain, that I may in ſome ſort oblige poſteritie, and give Silvander himſelf the delight of knowing how truely and ſincerly he is beloved by his Shepherdeſſe Diana.

Upon this Alexis was ſilent, and Silvander who during her diſcourſe had time to recollect his ſpirits, and to confirm himſelf in a beleif, that it was really Celadon who ſpoke unto him, he took him about the neck and embracing him: Oh heavens Celadon▪ (ſaid he) is it poſſible I ſhould before I die be ſo happy as to ſee you again? In ſaying ſo, teares dropped from his eyes, and afterwards continuing, no no Celadon (ſaid he) it is by no meanes juſt, that the anger, or rather the [Page] ill humour of Aſtrea ſhould cauſe the ruine of the moſt amiable Shepherd in all Forreſts.

Live, live, Celadon; live for Aſtrea, and let me alone to accompliſh the deſign which you intended: Let me die; for my fidelity is pure enough, and the ſame advantage which you willed me by your death, you may receive from mine: Nay, nay Silvander, replied Alexis, live you for Aſtrea: Alas, alas, replied the Shepherd, why ſhould I do ſo, ſince Diana lives only unto Paris? Unto Paris? (ſaid Alexis in a great amazement) yes unto Paris (ſaid Silvander) and that is the cauſe of my tranſport; let me therefore, dear Celadon, go and mingle my blood with the water of this Fountain: that is now the only object of all my deſires, and ſo great is my impatiency of it, that it alone is able to be my death. Sage Silvander, replied Alexis faintly, had this deſign been juſt in you, doubtleſs the gods would have inſpired you with the thoughts of it, as they did me; and therefore I conceive you have no right to contend with me about it nor diſpute it any longer, ſince no other but my ſelf can doubtleſſe obtain it. However (ſaid Silvander) I beſeech you let me joyn my Fortune unto yours, and let us both find the ſame Fate. Alexis would have diſſwaded him; but Silvander beſeeched her with ſo many forcible and importunate arguments, that at the laſt ſhe conſented, and received him as a companion in this enterprize.

Aſtrea had no ſooner heard Licidus ſay, that the Grotto wherein they were was the very ſame which formerly harboured Celadon, but ſhe was all amazement, and from that time thought that very rock it ſelf did tell her of that Shepherds love: all the objects which preſented themſelves unto her ſenſes, did treat her in the ſame manner: for when ſhe heard the hollow murmure of the river Lignon, or the noiſe which Zepherus made at the entrance of her Cavern, ſhe ſtill thought them compoſed of nothing but thoſe amorous ſighs, wherewith Celadon accompanied the rigour of his voluntary baniſhment. Diana did very well obſerve this aſtoniſhment, but not being able to imagine that it did proceed from any other cauſe then her fears that Phillis would ſurprize her, ſhe did not ſpeak unto her, but only waited with a little impatience to ſee what would become of the deſign which Phillis had to look into the Grotto. But when that Shepherdeſſe was gone our, and found the place more full of horrour, then likely to keep alive the flames of a Lover, and when ſhe had bid adieu unto Licidas, and went in queſt of thoſe whom ſhe left behind her, Diana ſeeing her companion continue ſtill in the ſame aſſright ſhe was▪ ſhe could nor chuſe but ask the cauſe: To whom Aſtrea anſwered, Did not you hear Siſter, how Licidas ſaid that this Grotto wherein we are, is the very ſame place where Celadon lived and complained againſt my inconſtancy, when his Father, by a ſubtil inſinuation, did make him believe that Corebes was to marry me? I heard him ſay ſo, replied Diana, but I did not think that was able to trouble you ſo much as I ſee you are: Truly, ſaid Aſtrea, it does not much trouble me; but I muſt confeſſe, when I think upon the accidents which befel me at that time, and comparing the preſent condition of my life with that I then lived, I cannot chuſe but grieve to ſee how fare will never ceaſe tormenting me, but is ſtill putting obſtacles unto ſuch felicities, as I promiſed unto my ſelf. There are very few (anſwered Diana) who have not the ſame accuſation againſt Fortune: you complain: I complain, and I think ſo does all the world: for it is a moſt impoſſible thing to receive any joy which is not mixed with a thouſand ſubjects of ſorrow: I do believe it (anſwered Aſtrea) but ſtill I dare affirm, that of all thoſe who ever had any cauſe of complaint, none ever had ſo much as I. For if I do but look back upon the ſucceſſes of my life, I cannot find one which was not accompanied with ſome ſad event or other. Siſter, replied Diana, we had never leſſe reaſon to complain then now, now I ſay, when our miſeries are ſo near their remedy, and when we are upon the very point of eaſing our ſelves from all thoſe diſpleaſures which we have endured: Love has been the cauſe almoſt of all, and it muſt be love which muſt deliver us, to the end the ſame hand which gave the wound, may alſo give the plaiſter. Indeed Siſter (ſaid Aſtrea) we are arrived at the Eve of our tranquility▪ but yet as near as that moment is, which will end all our miſeries, the memory of thoſe miſeries does torment my [Page] mind. In ſaying ſo, ſhe looked a little more ſeriouſly then before upon every thing that was in the Grotto; and finding ſomething upon her right hand which was engraved upon the rock, ſhe went nearer unto it, and found her own name which Celadon had engraved, almoſt all over the Cavern: and on one ſide ſhe ſaw written theſe enſuing lines.

Judge, fair Aſtrea, unto what point my Deſtinies have brought me: I know very well that death is a remedy againſt all miſeries; and yet I will not have recourſe unto it: not that I find it hard to die, but out of fear that being dead, I ſhall not love you any longer.

Theſe words made her apprehend, that he had at that time a mind to make away himſelf, but that ſome good genius had diverted him, by putting this conſideration into his thoughts. All thoſe objects were ſo ſad unto her apprehenſions, as they did ſteal from her eyes many a tear; but as ſad as her ſoul was, yet ſhe could not chuſe but look upon the teſtimonies of her Shepherds inviolable love: At laſt, after ſhe had looked all over, and had left no place unſearched, ſhe found in one of the corners, a bottle wherein Celadon kept this ink, and alſo finding a pen near it: Alas (ſaid ſhe and ſighed) here doubtleſſe is the very ſame pen, wherewith he uſed to expreſſe his amorous thoughts and paſſions: This is the faithful pen which has ſo often received all his ſecrets, and which hath been partly a cauſe of my knowing the deſpair of my dear Shepherd: Without thee dear pen (ſaid ſhe and kiſſed it) I had never known in what part of the world he had been; and in that ignorance, I ſhould never have found out the means to recal him. But dear pen, what ſhall I do unto thee in recompence of that good office? Theſe tears and theſe ſighs can do thee no good, for thou art not ſenſible of them: yet, perhaps, they will be acceptable unto thee, becauſe they relate unto him that was once thy maſter, and who by a high priviledge of Love, did perhaps take away thy inſenſibility. Upon this ſhe was ſilent; and Diana looking upon the ground, Siſter (ſaid ſhe unto her) I ſee ſomething lie at your feet: then Aſtrea ſtepping a little back, Diana ſtooped, and ſaw that it was a ſheet of paper lapped up: ſhe preſently took it up, and ſaw it ſuperſcribed in large Characters THE SORROWS OF A BETRAYED SHEPHERD, and within it theſe words.

I Once thought, fair Aſtrea, that the river of my tears would have waſhed away the crime of your infidelity. But now, when I think upon the many dayes which my eyes have ſpent in that miſerable office, I am quite out of all hopes, and ſee that it is death only which can bring any remedy to my griefs [...] and it only do I call for to cure thoſe wounds which your inconstancy have made. It is it only unto whom all my ſighs and groans are addreſsed: and it is it, which a thouſand times more pitiful then your ſelf, will receive ſuch prayers as I make unto it, to rid me of my pain. Thus do I look for help from it which Nature bids me fly; and I expect my ruine from her, whom reaſon commands me moſt religiouſly to love: A ſtrange effect of your ingratitude, Aſtrea: ſince to be exempted from your perſidies, I muſt fly unto the pity of my enemies: But will; if you expect from my diſgrace only the ruine of—

This half ended ſentence made Diana think that Celadon intended to fill the whole ſheet with the like compliments: but that he was diverted, perhaps, by the command which Licidas brought him from Aſtrea, he had not time to write any more then what you ſee. Aſtrea, who was the Reader of it, ſhe was very ſorry that it was no longer, for it was very pleaſing unto her; yet putting it into her boſome. [Page] This complaint, poor Celadon (ſaid ſhe) which thou makeſt againſt me for a crime, whereof I was not guilty, ſhall ſerve to condemn me, for that which I committed in the laſt ſentence which I pronounced againſt thee; and that it may be a witneſſe to publiſh my injuſtice, I beſeech the gods this paper may ſurvive me, and that it may have as much power to withſtand the injuries of time and weather, as I have to puniſh her that has offended againſt the fidelity of Celadon: Upon this ſhe found a great weakneſſe in her ſelf; and Diana, who ſaw her look pale, and feared ſhe would ſwound, ſhe run unto the river ſide to fetch ſome water: ſhe had leſſe ado to go out of the Cavern then ſhe had to enter in, for Licidas had made the paſſage more eaſie: ſhe made haſte to the river, but could not return ſo faſt for fear of ſpilling, ſo as ſhe had time enough to ſee Licidas lying at the root of a Willow: This ſight did extreamly aſtoniſh her: yet obſerving that he was aſleep, ſhe went unto the Grotto as faſt as ever ſhe could; and finding Aſtrea a little better, Siſter (ſaid ſhe unto her) let us fly away as faſt as we can, unleſſe we would have Licidas ſurprize us: Why? asked Aſtrea; becauſe, replied Diana, he is ſtill in the ſame place where he talked with Phillis, and I fear he has heard our diſcourſe, or at the leaſt will come into this place, to paſſe away the reſt of the day. Is it poſſible (ſaid Aſtrea) that this Shepherd ſhould be there yet? Doubtleſſe he is (anſwered Diana) and if you have a mind to ſee him, it is but going to the entrance of the Cavern, and caſting your eye unto the river ſide: I would gladly ſee him once more, ſaid Aſtrea, and in ſaying ſo, ſhe went unto the mouth of the Grotto, and ſaw him lie all along upon the graſſe, which Nature had covered with a little Moſs. As ſoon as ever ſhe had ſeen him, ſhe would have retired, for ſhe was afraid to be ſeen; but growing a little more confident, ſhe began to fix her eyes ſo ſtedfaſtly upon him, that it was a quarter of an hour before ſhe removed them. Diana, who all the while obſerved, ſhe pulled her by the coat, Siſter (ſaid ſhe) I think you are raviſhed with looking upon that Shepherd: Truly, anſwered Aſtrea, his innocence makes me to compaſſionate him extreamly; and I am beyond expreſſion ſorry he ſhould be ſo ſenſible of Celadons ſufferings: for being conſcious of my own fault, it grieves me he ſhould have ſo much cauſe to complain againſt me: yet (continued ſhe) I mean to try his good Nature, and if there be any ſpark of pity in his ſoul, I am confident he will have much ado to deny that pardon which I ſhall ask him. In ſaying ſo ſhe went into the Grotto, and taking the pen which ſhe found, ſhe dipped it in the bottle of ink which was half full, alſo tearing a little piece of paper which ſhe had put in her pocket, ſhe writ a Letter unto Licidas, which was no ſooner finiſhed, but ſeeing the day almoſt done, ſhe reſolved to leave the Grotto and that paper in the hand of Licidas. Unto which Diana conſenting, they went out with as little noiſe as they could, and coming to Licidas, Aſtrea kneeled down upon the ground, ſhe pinned the paper to the ſleev of the Shepherd: O Love (ſaid ſhe) even for pities ſake give good ſucceſſe unto this Letter: let it not be loſt; but if it be poſſible, let it touch the very heart of Licidas: Then ſhe aroſe, and looking round, they continued their journey.

Phillis was already returned to the houſe of Adamas, very ſorry ſhe could not hear any news of her companions: Leonide came preſently after her, and a little after that, all the Shepherds and Shepherdeſſes which were at the houſe of Adamas: ſo as all of them having given an account unto the Druide and Belinde, of their ſtrict inquiſition after Diana and Aſtrea, they began to conclude, that they were both fled together upon ſome dangerous deſign: Adamas was much troubled for the Shepherdeſſes; but for all that, he could not forget the intereſt he had in Celadon: Enquiring therefore, whether any could tell where he was; Phillis anſwered very plainly, that ſhe thought he was dead, ſince Licidas ſwore he had not leſt any place in all the plain unſearched. The Druide then, ſeeming to be very angry at her anſwer; but (ſaid he) let us at the leaſt ſave Licidas, and prevent any new diſaſter that may happen unto him: Father (ſaid Phillis) I left him lying upon the ground a good way from hence; yet very near the river Lignon: and to go unto him, one need but go ſtreight up by the river ſide: perhaps (ſaid Adamas) you left him aſleep: if ſo, it is poſſible to find him and bring him back, [Page] I believe one may, replied Phillis, but then it muſt be by command from ſome whom he dares not diſobey. Paris (ſaid the Druide) may perhaps perſwade with him. Upon this, commanding Paris to go thither, this new Shepherd went and found Licidas, a little before the Sun was ſet. Almoſt at the ſame time he awaked, and knowing Paris, he ſtarted up upon a ſudden, not taking any notice that the Letter which Aſtrea pinned at his ſleev, did fall to the ground: Paris perceiving that Licidas did not ſee it, he ſtooped to take it up, and having it in his hand, here Licidas (ſaid he unto him) this is doubtleſſe ſome expreſſion of your Love. I cannot tell what it is, anſwered Licidas, but it can be no expreſſion of my affection, unleſſe Phillis gave unto it you. Nay, replied Paris; but on the contrary, it may be I that muſt give it unto Phillis, and will be willingly the Carryer of it, ſince you have writ it. Who I, anſwered Licidas, I ſwear I have not ſeen either ink or paper this two dayes. However (ſaid Paris) you did let it fall: perhaps (ſaid Licidas) it was your ſelf, for I am certain that I had no papers about me. That will be quickly cleared, anſwered Paris, for I believe you will acknowledge your own hand: In ſaying ſo, he preſented the Letter unto Licidas, and the Shepherd caſting his eyes upon it: alas, ſaid he, this Character is as much contrary unto mine, as the cruelty of her who writ it is contrary unto my contentment: Paris not underſtanding what he meant, Licidas continued: This Letter, ſaid he, came from Aſtrea; [...] but I cannot imagine which way it ſhould come into my hands: perhaps (ſaid Paris) you have had it long: No anſwered Licidas, I never ſaw it till now; and believe ſhe writ it very lately, for the ink is freſh: Then he began to read what was within the paper, and found theſe words.

ASTREAS LETTER unto LICIDAS.

YOur anger againſt me, dear Licidas, I find to be moſt juſt; and the more, becauſe not having heard any of thoſe reaſons which might plead my juſtification, it is impoſsible but your judgement ſhould be byaſſed by the intereſt of your brother. I do excuſe your reſentment, as I do blame his diſguiſment: And to leave you no longer without ſome ſatisfaction for the crime whereof you accuſe me, I am going to die, ſince the juglings of Celadon are a cauſe, that I cannot live any longer in the world with honour: I do verily believe, that in the heat of my tranſport, I have uſed a little too much rigour; but how I impoſe a petty pennance upon him, when I conceived his ſin beyond all parallel or pardon? yet ſince you will needs ſay that I have done amiſs, I will ſay ſo too, and confeſſe that my fault deſerves no leſs a puniſhment then death: I tell you therefore once more Licidas, that I am going to die, and that your anger againſt me is to blame, if you do not take my death for a ſufficient revenge. If for the reſt of my ſoul, a pardon may be obtained from you, grant it good Shepherd: my tears do beg it; and the love which Celadon once bore unto me, do forbid you to deny it. Adieu Licidas, I have but a moment to live, and let Phillis take it in teſtimony of my remembrance: Adieu.

At the reading of theſe laſt words, Licidas could not chuſe but melt into tears, and pulling out his handkerchief to wipe his eyes: Alas, alas, (ſaid he) how great reaſon ſhe has to confeſſe her ſelf culpable? for all the misfortunes which have fallen upon us, had their beginnings from a trivial jealouſie which once ſhe conceived, and conceived it upon the weakeſt grounds in the world. I do wonder (ſaid Paris) that ſhe mentions not a ſyllable of Diana, ſince it is thought they are both together? I cannot tell, anſwered Licidas, what may be the cauſe of it; but doubtleſſe they are both together: for if Diana had not been with Aſtrea, [Page] then Aſtrea would have mentioned her in the end of her letter, as well as Phillis whom you ſee ſhe remembers; however it be, ſaid Paris, I conceive we cannot take a better courſe then to go ſpeedily and acquaint Adamas, to ſee what he will conceive upon this laſt accident. Heere is Aſtreas letter, replied Lycidas; you may communicate it unto him: and if you pleaſe, I will waite heere for your commands: Lycidas ſaid this, becauſe he had no great mind to go unto the houſe of the Druide: but Paris did ſo well perſwade with him that at laſt, he prevailed and carried him along.

It was now night when they came at the houſe of Adamas, ſo as Bellinde being out of any hopes to hear any news of Diana, ſhe grieved extreamly, and all the conſolations the Druide could invent to flatter her ſorrows, did nothing but make her more ſenſible of them. In this condition ſhe was when they told her that Paris and Lycidas were returned, ſo as ſhe ran unto them as unto her laſt refuge: but hearing nothing from them which gave her any hopes, ſhe relapſed into her firſt ſad apprehenſions. Adamas, he looked upon the letter which Lycidas received; and finding no mention of Diana in it; he let Bellinde know that in this incertainty of things, ſhe had no reaſon to diſpair. That it was credible Diana was not ſo ſenſleſſe as to expoſe her ſelf unto death, ſince it looks with ſuch a grim and horrid face, and ſince Diana being but a woman, there was no likly hood her timerous diſpoſition durſt ever attempt to graple with it, what reſolutions ſoever ſhe had: Perhaps indeed Aſtrea might infuſe ſome deſires unto her off attempting it: but when it came too't neither of them both had ſo much courage as to execute it; Adamas uſed ſeverall other arguments which Bellinde did not take as abſolutely good, nor could ſhe abſolutely condemn them: and the Druide having waited upon her unto her Chamber, he went unto his own, where calling for all the Shepherds and Shepherdeſſes, he deſired them to be all up betimes the next morning to proſecute the ſearch which they had began; and every one promiſing to obey, they bad him good night and went to bed.

Aſtrea and Diana, had in the mean time gone a little way after they parted from Lycidas: But when night came, and they ſaw the air duskye and full of clouds, and that the heavens amidſt the obſcuritie did ſend forth ſuch flaſhes of lightning as promiſed ſo many Thunder-bolts; Then chill feares did ſeiſe upon them, and that courageous ſpirit which they ſhewed did now began to droop and vaniſh when they came to conſider that they were but poor ſilly weak women. The imbecilitie of their ſexe did infuſe a thouſand conſiderations into their ſouls, whereof the leaſt forcible, was ſtrong enough to hinder them from going any furthe [...] They reſolved therefore to turn fairely back, and ſeek out a ſhelter from the raine which began to fall, ſo as they returned into the ſame gratto from whence they departed: They were no ſooner lodged but the air began to diſcharge it ſelf of ſuch great abundance of raine, and with ſuch great clappes of thunder and lighting, as they began to fear that the rockes were not able to preſerve their lives from the injury of ſuch tempeſtious weather. Lignon began preſently to riſe, and with a ſwelling pride to overflow its banks: ſuch torrents fell from the neighboring hills, as ſtill did ſwell it more and more: ſo as in two howers ſpace, it came up to the very mouth of the gratto; And that place which once harboured the flames of Celadon, was conſtrained now to receive the moiſtur of this cold Element, and it entred in ſo ſuddainly, as all that Aſtrea and Diana could do was to get out: and as good fortune was, they were no ſooner out, but the raine ceaſed: ſo as ſeeing the air begin to clear, and the Moon to ſhew her argent complexion, they ſet forward, and never reſted till they arived with in three hundred paces of that fountain which they had made choiſe of, for a remedy againſt all their diſpleaſure. There they found the forme of an altar, raiſed from the ground upon a little ſquare, the ſteps whereof were ſtained with blood in ſeverall places, and blacked with the ſmoak of victims that had been there ſacrificed. At the firſt; they conceived it to be conſecrated unto ſome dyety, and imagining, that the dyety of that enchantment, perhaps reſided there, they both fell down upon their knees at the bottom of the ſtaires, and Aſtrea began to pray in this manner: Oh moſt puiſſant god of love, preſerver of nature, abſolute God of [Page]ſouls: take away I beſeech thee the maske that blindes thy eyes, and ſee whether my fidelity be not as great as my courage; Heere is the female lover that muſt appeaſe thy wrath, and who by the loſs of her life is to have the glory of ſtopping the mouths of theſe Lyons and Ʋnicornex▪ which rendring this fountain inacceſſible, do hide from all lovers the verity of theſe great miſteryes. Accept oh thou Son and Father of Eternity, of that blood which I ſhall ſhed: and to keep me from allignominy that may follow my death, take care, I beſeech thee of this my body which I do voluntarily expoſe unto the cruelty of thoſe mercyleſs animals: in ſaying ſo ſhe went and kiſſed the foote of the altar, and then Diana lifting her eyes up to heaven, great God (ſaid ſhe) that which Aſtrea does aske from thy pitty, do I implore from thy hatred: Thy rigour has never ceaſed from tormenting me: Let my miſeryes and thy tyrannies this day ceaſe, I will not give the [...]y accompt of my fidelity: thou doſt ſee it in the ſecret of my ſoul, and knowes that it was even inviolable; Spare, oh god of love, ſpare the beauty of Aſtrea: do not let thy Lyons be inſenſible: inſpire their fierce ſouls with fear and reſpect, and do not let them glut their hunger and thy cruelty upon her most beautifull and delicate body.

After this ſhe aroſe up, and having kiſſed the foot of the altar three times, ſhe went down to the place where Aſtrea ſtood. Oh Siſter (ſaid that Shepherdeſſe unto her) you have done me wronge, for your own preſervation ought to have been the ſubject of your prayer and not mine, and if the gods ſhould grant your requeſt I ſhould taxe them with injuſtice, and therefore (ſaid ſhe and fell down upon her knees again) I beſeech thee, oh god of love to puniſh this iniurious Shepherdeſs with a deniall: and make her know that as I have more right unto what ſhe prayeth for, ſo I ought to have more hopes of obtaining it. Then would Diana have kneeled down, but Aſtrea hindred her: and putting her hand before her mouth. Siſter (ſaid ſhe unto her) if you love me do not diſoblige me any longer, for your requeſt is directely contrary to my deſires and tranquility: in ſaying ſo, teares came into her eyes: and Diana not being able to reſtrain hers, they ſaid not a word more, but began to embrace one another. And ſitting down upon the ground becauſe they were weary with travelling a whole day and a night togeather without any reſt, and prompted unto it as I think by the inchantment, they both fell aſleep, and remained thus embracing each other, as they did before the ſleep did ſurpriſe them.

They were no ſooner falen a ſleep but day appeared; and appeared much fairer then the winds and ſtorms of the precedent night promiſed: Alexis, and Silvander were not yet awake; But Bellinde who hardly ever cloſed an eye by reaſon of her great inquietudes, ſhe no ſooner ſpied the firſt bluſh of Aurora, but ſhe ſtarted out of her bed; and putting on her gown, ſhe ran unto Leonides chamber, and deſired her to ſolicite Phillis unto ſo much paines as ſhe had taken the day before in the queſt of her Companions; ſhe found that Nymph already dreſt and Phillis alſo for both of them were ſo zealous in behalf of their two friends, as they both got up betimes purpoſely to go and look after them.

Bellinde wondered at their early diligency: and as ſhe began to tell Leonide the cauſe of her comming unto their chamber, ſhe was prevented by Phillis who addreſſing her ſelf unto her; You ſee Madam (ſaid ſhe) what a deal of trouble and paines Aſtrea and Diana does put me unto; but if ere I find them, this crime which they have committed againſt me, ſhall not be unpuniſhed. Alas fair Shepherdeſs (anſwered Bellinde) I am afraid you are already ſufficiently revenged: Madam replied Phillis, I am not ſo eaſily ſatisfied as perhaps you imagine▪ For I am of ſuch an humour that I never think ſufficient reaſon is done me, unleſs I take revenge my ſelf. Pray heavens, replied Bellinde, is ever come into your power; I am afraid the penance you would enjoyn them, is far inferior unto that which they have already ſuffered. Madam (ſaid Leonide) it is impoſſible but before this day be at an end, all our doubt will be cleared: we ſhall imploy ſo many people in the queſt, that though they be drowned in Lignon, (which I do not think) yet we ſhall find ſome markes of their death; I pray the heavens, replied Bellinde, that my feare prove falſe, and that you may bring better news of them then I expect. In ſaying ſo ſhe went out; and with her Leonide and Phillis, [Page] who having found [...] with him all the [...] they all went in [...].

On the other [...] with a ſtrange impatiency to talk with Aſtrea, [...] Celadon, [...] the morning and [...] of Shepherdeſſes [...] provided the day [...] and Silvia, did [...] they went into the cham [...]er of Amaſis, who [...] had admired the comlineſs of [...] dreſſes, though far ſhort of their uſual [...]ear, ſhe [...] a good ſpeed▪ and diſmiſſed them.

They went in a coach, and ſent it back, as ſoon as [...] the Druides houſe▪ and then Madonthe, and Daph [...] who were [...] well verſed in the way of Shepherdeſſes, they taught the [...] how they should hold their ſheep [...]ooks, [...]nd by what language they muſt make the ſheep to underſtand them: After this▪ they entred into the Court, and met no living body; at which Galathea wondering and not being able to imagine what ſhould be [...] in the houſe: at laſt ſhe believed all the Shepherds and Shepherdeſſes were gone into the Woods, to divert themſelves under ſome cool ſhade in the heat of the day.

In this thought they went up the ſtairs, and Adamas being advertiſed by him [...]ho looked to the gates, that ſome Shepherdeſſes were entred, he came to receive them at the ſtairs top. At the firſt ſight he knew Madonthe and [...] for he had ſeen them in that dreſs before; and afterwards knowing the reſt alſo, O heavens, my moſt honoured Ladies (ſaid he with a pleaſant aſpect unto [...] and Galathea) what good Fortune is it that honours me with ſo much happineſs as to bring you hither▪ Surely Father, anſwered Galathea, it is not the cuſtome to ſpeak with ſo much reſpect unto Shepherdeſſes; but let me tell you; that ſince the departure of Sigiſmond, Roſilion, Godomar, Damon, and all the reſt of [...]ur Cav [...]lier [...]; we f [...] a deſign of coming to viſit you, and participate of thoſe innocent pleaſure which are to be found, under the habits wherein you [...] (replied the Druide with a ſigh) you come to be witneſſes of thoſe [...] wherewith the innocence of this kind of life is [...] for be pleaſed to know, [...] diſorder at [...] which have befallen u [...] within theſe two dayes. I profeſs, replied [...] do both aſtoniſh and grieve me, for if did not think to find you in ſuch a great confuſion.

In ſaying ſo, they went into the dining room, through which they went into the chamber of Adamas: and there the Druide began to ſpeak unto them. [...] make you acquainted with our ſorrows, ſaid he, I need but only ſhew you the face of Belinde, who is mother unto Diana: for yeſterday ſhe loſt her daughter, who ſtole away from hence with Aſtrea; and all this, as I believe, is come to paſs becauſe Alexis was loſt the day before: How I (ſaid Galathea) is not Alexis the [...] here? We do not know where ſhe is, replied the Druide, but perhaps [...] glad to hear her Fortune, for you have ſome intereſt in it. Galathea [...]ot [...]eing able to underſtand his meaning, I cannot chuſe but be much [...] her (ſaid ſhe) ſince ſhe did belong unto you.

Upon this Belinde being called, and knowing the names of all theſe new Shepherdeſſes, ſhe rendred what was due unto their birth and [...] with a countenance full of cares and grief, Roſanira, [...] ſhe had ſaluted her; [...] thought, (ſaid the Princeſs unto her) that we were [...] admire the beauty and perfections of your daughter▪ but I perceive; that we have thoſe [...] to give ſome comfort unto you. Madam, anſwered [...] but ſince you do [...] I am not aſhamed to confeſs before you, [...] as makes me almoſt incapable of any [...] ( [...]aid Galathea) and by conſequence [Page] muſt needs be ſenſible of what concerns your own blood: but I hope your ſorrows are not without ſome remedy, if heaven do but love you half ſo well as we eſteem and love you.

Upon this, Adamas beſeeched them to ſit down; and being deſired by Galathea, to tell them all that related unto the loſs of Alexis, and of the flight of Aſtrea and Diana, he acquainted them with every particular circumſtance; So as Galathea underſtanding that Alexis was the very ſame Lacinde, who eſcaped out of the Pallace of Iſoures: I do not wonder (ſaid ſhe and was much ſurprized) that you have alwayes kept her out of my ſight: for doubtleſs you know that I ſhould have known her: I did at the leaſt fear it, replied the Druide, and I was ſure, that acquaintance would not at all have helped Celadon: for he was then ſo obſtinately unwilling to appear before Aſtrea, that he had rather have died a hundred deaths, then I ſhould have diſcovered his diſguiſment.

This diſcourſe laſted until it was dinner time: after which Roſanira having a deſire to ſee the Gallery, Adamas conducted all the company thither; and they had not been there above a quarter of an hour, but word was brought unto Adamas, that there was three men at the gates which deſired to ſpeak with him: He preſently commanded they ſhould be let enter: and the firſt that appeared was Halladine, whom Adamas and others did preſently know. Halladine had no ſooner ſaluted the Druide, but he did his reverence unto Madonthe: and hearing that Damon was at Lions, he beſeeched their leave to go thither; but Madonthe telling him how ſhort a time Damon would ſtay: I had rather (continued ſhe) that you would give us an accompt of your journey, and tell us how Celidea was cured. Madam, anſwered Halladine, to tell it exactly unto you, requires a better wit then mine; but here is a man come with me, who is able to relate every circumſtance unto you: Upon this, he told them that thoſe two who came in with him, the one was the great Olicarſis the African, and Authour of Celideas cure: The other was Azahides, and that no man in the world was better able to tell her what ſhe deſired to know, then he.

Upon this, all the company fixed their looks upon theſe two men: one of which was Olicarſis, whoſe habit, ſtature, and deportment, was no ſmall ſubject of aſtoniſhment unto them. Adamas went unto them, and knowing by Damons report how conſiderable this old man was, for his rare and admirable qualities, he received them with all poſſible demonſtrations of kindneſs: and Olicarſis, who though a Barbarian by birth, yet not ſo by humour, he thought himſelf ſo obliged by the kind expreſſions of the Druide, as from thence forward he began to have a moſt particular affection unto him.

After the firſt complements were performed, the Druide deſired them to ſit down with all that good company; and by Fortune, Olicarſis at the ſame time, did caſt his eye upon ſome Pictures, wherewith that Gallery was admirably well furniſhed: and chancing to know one of them, I think (ſaid he) that yonder Piece is the Picture of Eudoxe, whom Genſerick brought into Africa, after he had triumphed over Rome and Sicilie: Moſt true, anſwered Adamas, and all the principal accidents which befel that Princeſs from her birth, until that time, have been related unto us by ſuch perſons as were moſt irreproachable witneſſes; but ſince Ʋrcaſes and Olimbres went from the Maſſilians into Africa, we never heard any thing at all. Alas, replied Olicarſis, Fortune has been a moſt cruel Perſecutor of that Sage Princeſs, ſince that; and did I not think I ſhould be too tedious, I ſhould relate unto you many remarkable accidents that have befel her: All the company ſeemed very deſirous to hear him, eſpecially Adamas. So Olicarſis began his diſcourſe in this manner.

The Sequel of the Hiſtory of EUDOXE, of URSACES, and of OLIMBRES.

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GEnſerick, loadned with the rich ſpoils of Rome, and proud of ſo many glorious conqueſts, he no ſooner came to Carthage, but the People is honour of his valour, began to chant and extol his triumphs; and himſelf tickled with that happy ſucceſs which followed all his enterprizes (being reſolved to let his ambition have its full ſwing) he began to think of arming himſelf the ſecond time, and ſtrike a terrour, not only unto Italy, but all the world. Yet, firſt being willing to allow ſome time unto that reſt which he thought he had deſerved, he intended, till all things was in readineſs for his ſecond voyage, to enjoy all thoſe pleaſures and delights that his heart could deſire: and the firſt that he propoſed unto himſelf, was, to triumph over the chaſtity of Eudoxe, as he had already over her Empire. The memory of thoſe obligations which he had unto this Princeſs, did not at all move him; but on the contrary inſpired him with a ſecret fear; that as ſhe had called him out of Africa into Italy to deliver her from the Tyranny of Maximus, and to revenge the Parricide committed on the perſon of Valentinian, ſo ſhe might draw the odium of every one upon him, and in the end become the ruine of him and his Eſtates. This apprehenſion was a cauſe that he kept her up very carefully in a Pallace, where leaving her without any company but her two daughters, he ordained that none whoſoever ſhould come unto her without ſpecial permiſſion from him, upon pain of death. Some Eunuchs only were appointed to wait upon her; and that but at ſome certain hours neither, when ſhe eat her meat. The reſentments which this Princeſs had of her captivity, and her grief for the loſs of Ʋrſaces, who only ſhe loved, did bring her in a few dayes to ſuch a ſad and miſerable condition, that thoſe who waited upon her thought fit to make report of it unto Genſerick.

This barbarous King being moved at the news, yet only to keep her alive, that he might act his impious deſigne, he ſent for me; and adding mountains of promiſes unto his earneſt deſires and commands, he appointed me to viſit her, and to uſe my utmoſt endeavours to cure her. He knew before by many experiences, what I was able to do in the moſt deſperate diſeaſes, and the life which I reſtored unto Thraſimond his ſon, after all Phyſicians had given him over, was a ſufficient teſtimony unto him, that I could do whatſoever it pleaſed me to undertake.

This good opinion which he had of my skill did ſo prejudicate his mind, that he imployed me; and I who did not deſire any thing with more paſſion then to ſee that Princeſs, whoſe Anceſtors I knew, I accepted of this commiſſion, as the greateſt advantage that fortune could offer me. Being brought then into her Pallace, or rather her priſon, I was conducted into her chamber; but O heavens? how pleaſing, and how deplorable both, was this firſt ſight which I had of her? ſhe was that day in a gown of carnation Satten, imbroidered with Pearls: her ſleeves were of Satten, white as her complexion, imbroidered with gold and Dearls, and enriched almoſt all over with an infinite number of ſmall Diamonds: her hands were bare, and in one, ſhe held a handkerchief, which ſhe was often lifting to her eyes: her hair was in her night dreſs, and yet I ſaw ſome little curled locks which hung negligently about her cheeks: ſhe had a ſcarf about her neck, her face ſeemed to be very much ſhrunk and lean, as if it were impoſſible to preſerve that natural plumpneſs which ſhe had of her own: This Princeſs was given up to ſorrow, that her eyes, which ſince her captivity were ſeldome without tears, had quite loſt their luſter, and ſeemed to burn: ſhe walked up and down the chamber, and holding her eyes down, ſeemed to muſe moſt profoundly upon ſomthing.

I muſt needs confeſs, that as it was long before ſhe perceived me, ſo it was long before I could do any thing elſe but admire her: and as if I ſtood in need to recollect [Page] my ſelf, I durſt not enter, till ſhe by fortune caſting her look towards the dore, ſhe ſpied me, and knew that I did not ſtand there but upon ſome deſign.

Se had heard what a ſtrickt command was given concerning her: ſo as ſeeing me in another kind of habit then comonly was worn, ſhe was exceedingly ſurpriſed, and I cannot tell whether it was with fear, or with deſire of death: but ſo it was, that when ſhe ſaw me put my foot into her chamber, ſhe came to meet me, well (ſaid ſhe) how does Genſerick intend to diſpoſe of my life? Will he, to make me infamous unto poſtentie, that I ſhould loſe it by ſome diſgracefull way? And has he commanded you to bring me the news, that I may prepare my ſelf for it. She looked upon me all this while with a fixed eye, and I obſerving that ſhe expected my anſwere: Madam (ſaid I unto her) if the King ſhould have any ill deſignes againſt you, it is more then I do know, nor would I ever be the meſſenger of any ſad news unto you; He ſeemed unto me to be very indulgent over you, and to have a care of your health, and therefore commanded me to ſee you, and to contribute all that was in me to preſerve your health; Theſe few wordes were enough to let this Princeſſe know, what my profeſſion was: ſo as laying aſide her firſt opinion of me; Alas (ſaid ſhe unto me with a deep ſigh) my diſeaſe is not any of thoſe with in the compaſs of Phiſique; If that Barbarous Prince who keeps me a perſoner has any mind to put me out of my miſeryes, let him make haſt and take away my life, which after the loſs of my dominions and liberty cannot be pleaſing unto me: we are three victimes heere, and I ſhould ſay four, which that tyrant may ſacrifice unto his fury when he will: good gods? Why ſhould he ſpare us, after he ruined the ſtately temples of Rome? After this, Eudoxe began to walk again, and the teares ſhe ſhed, did eaſily make me know that in the reſentment of her great loſſes, her ſoul ſtood more in need of remedies then her body: and ſee how much compaſſion may work upon a ſpirit which is not altogeather void of reſentment; I proteſt I was ſo much moved at her miſeryes, that I would have attempted any thing in the world to ſerve her.

I gave her all the teſtimonies of it that I could, but I perceived that her fears of being deceived was a cauſe, that at the firſt ſhe did not much value what I ſaid: yet ſhe thanked me, but in ſuch a cold manner as made me judge ſhe doubted my fidelity. After ſhe had commanded me to report unto the King a thouſand complaints which her paſſion did ſuggeſt unto her, ſhe gave me leave to retire; And Genſericke who waited for my return with much impatiency, to know how Eudoxe did, he knew no more by me then was neceſſary for his tranquility.

I did not tell him what the Princeſſe commanded me, but only made a faithfull relation of the condition wherin I found her; and ſpoke ſo highly of thoſe charmes which I obſerved in her, as I did innocently ſet an edge upon that ſword, which ſince, had like to have killed us all. I thought that as I was moved unto compaſſion by ſeeing her in that condition, ſo ſurely would he upon the report which I ſhould make unto him: but in lieu of being ſenſible, it did ſo blow that fire which had begun to burn in him, as he diſpaired ever to quench it: had I had but any knowledge of his deſign, I ſhould have been very far from adding any fuell unto it ſince it was not honeſt nor lawfull; But not knowing he had any thoughts againſt the honour of that Princeſſe; truly I thought that I had done very much in her behalf, in ſpeaking unto him of thoſe merits which I found in her.

Genſerick then knowing that Eudoxes malady was moſt in her mind, and conceaving that the ſolitude wherin he detained her, would never be a remedy againſt it, he commanded me to go and viſit her often, and gave a me permiſſion to go as often as I pleaſed; and therefore, after many viſits, having at laſt made known unto that Princeſſe, the great deſire which I had to do her any ſervice▪ I did oblige her to put ſome confidence in me, and to proteſt that ſhe would communicate even her very heart and thoughts unto me.

It hapned one day, that remembring the diſcourſe which formerly we had; and asking her what ſhe meant by the three victims which might be ſacrifiſed unto the fury of Genſerick, and by the fourth which might be added; ſhe made me ſit [Page] down upon her bed ſide; and there whilſt the young Eudoxe and her Siſter Placidia were buſie playing in a cloſſet, ſhe related unto me all the Storie of Vrcaſes his love: ſhe told me all the circumſtances which fell out in the beginning of that Caveliers affection; her ſort ows when ſhe married Valentinian; the love of that young Emperor unto Iſidore; The violence he offered unto her: the revenge which Maximus took: and laſtly, ſhe told me her deſign which ſhe had with Vrcaſes, to fly unto Marcias who then commanded the Empire of the Eaſt; The promiſe ſhe then made unto that Cavelier never to marry any but him: her diſpaires when ſhe was conſtrained to give her ſelf unto Maximus; And laſtly how ſhe called Genſerick to Rome to deliver her from the tiranny of this new husband: but when ſhe came to ſpeak of Genſericks reſolution, to plunder, and to carry her into Affrica as the glory of his Tryumphes: ſhe told me what Vrcaſes did to carry her away: and afterwards of his death which ſhe thought to be certain, and all this with ſo many teares, ſighes and groanes, as I was once afraid they would have ſtopped her breath. Truth is, ſhe fell into my armes in a ſwound, and I had much a do to recover her. At laſt, after ſhe had gathered ſome ſtrength, ſhe acquainted me with the affection which Olimbres had unto Placidia, and told me that this was the fourth perſon of whom ſhe ſpoke, aſſuring her ſelf that he would not ſurvive his Miſtreſſe, if by fortune any perticular conſideration had kept him alive after the loſs of Vrcaſes. She had no ſooner done relating her fortunes, but I uſed my beſt endeavours to comfort her: I did not omit any argument which I thought would perſwade her unto what I deſired; and in concluſion I offered her all the ſervice ſhe could expect from a man of my condition. I told her that my age, and the qualities wherwith heaven had endued me, had given me ſo much credit with the King; that I hoped to obtain any thing I ſhould aske him; That it was true, as for her liberty, it was above my reach, and I durſt not ſo much as think of it; But as for any thing which conduced unto the mitigation of her greif or feares from her detention, I did not think he would deny me any thing. This Princeſſe accepted of my offers with ſuch a charming ſweetneſs, that I did proteſt▪ I would not ſpare my very life to procure her contentment; and I cannot tell whether my expreſſions infuſed any hopes into her: but ſo it was, ſhe appeared not ſo ſad nor ſo dejected as before, and in a ſhort time became as plump and freſh and fair as ever ſhe was.

Geneſerick, who was quickly advertiſed of it, and did give me many thanks for the good effects I had wrought upon this Princeſſe: and as the fire of his love inflamed him with a deſire of enjoying her, above all the world; ſo he thought that it was but ſo much labour as to aske her the queſtion: ſince in the condition ſhe was, it was not likely ſhe would denye the leaſt of his deſires: In order to this then, he prepared himſelf for a viſit: and leaſt his deſign ſhould make over great a noiſe he took none with him but Thraſimond to entertaine the two daughters. I do ſo much abhor the memorie of this accident, as I am not able to tell you, with what importunity this Barbarian accoſted Eudoxe, let it ſuffice to know that after this tyrant had uſed a thouſand gilded expreſſions of his paſſion, ſeeing her ſtill obſtinate in deniall he betook himſelf unto violence, and ſwore that whatſoever it coſt him he would overcome her. The Princeſſe fearing the Barbariſme of this incenſed King, ſhe did a little diminiſh her rigour, and beſeeched him to give her ſome dayes time to conſider upon it.

Geneſerick conceiving▪ that the leſs force he uſed in this victory the more pleaſure it would be unto him, he did conſent unto her requeſt: after which he retired, and carried Thraſimond with him whom the charmes of the young Eudoxe had ſo captivated, that he could never ſince ſhake of her fetters: and certainly if ever beauty could inſpire love, it was ſhe: and without flattery one may ſay of her as the Philoſopher Leonitias ſaid formerly of Eudoxe his Daugher, who afterwards was wiſe unto Theodoſius and grand Mother of this: for being, asked why he gave all his eſtate by will unto his two Sonnes, and nothing at all unto his Daughter; It is portion enough (anſwered he) if I leave her but that which fortune doth promiſe her: Meaning, that he obſerved ſo much virtue, beauty and merit in her, as was beyond all portions he could give her.

[Page]But to return unto my diſcourſe: Genſerick had no ſooner left Eudoxe alone, but by fortune I came in; and finding her all in tears, I wondered at ſo ſudden a change; but when I knew the cauſe, I muſt confeſs, I found ſhe had moſt juſt cauſe for it. Now did I begin to ſee clearly what the drift of Genſerick was, which was before unknown unto me; but now I found all his compaſſion of this Princeſs was meerly paſſion, which made him wiſh for her recovery: ſhe told me every ſyllable he ſaid unto her, and when ſhe told me what term of time ſhe had taken, was only to acquaint me with her misfortune, and to pray me that I would apply the beſt remedy I could. Madam (anſwered I) tomorrow I will take the honour to talk with you more particularly, and do promiſe you to think upon it all the night: Mean time, be of good comfort, and be aſſured, that if my life and blood will deliver you from theſe fears that afflict you, you ſhall not be long before you be delivered.

Upon this, I went out of her chamber, and retired home, where, according to my promiſe, I ſpent all the night in thinking which way I ſhould beſt ſerve this ſage Princeſs; but after I had ſtretched my brains, and turned every ſtone, I could not hit upon one expedient, the execution whereof ſeemed poſſible unto me: for if I thought of getting her out of captivity by flight, I ſaw that we had not time enough to gain the guards, nor to furniſh our ſelves with all things neceſſary for our enlargement: To divert the King from this amorous fury, I ſaw but little likelyhood: for very well knowing his vicious Nature, I know that nothing but death would quench his luſt.

To kill him, beſides the enormity of the crime, and the inevitable danger that would fall upon my ſelf, I did foreſee this perhaps was not the way to deliver Eudoxe, ſince he would leave two ſons, who doubtleſs would ſucceed him in his humour, as well as his Empire. Thus, not being able to invent any thing that would do her good, as ſoon as night was paſt, and her chamber door open in the morning, I went to give her an accompt of my thoughts▪ and this Princeſs finding what difficulties I met withal: but Olicarſis (ſaid ſhe) there is one remedy which you have not thought upon, and which is a very eaſie one. I asking then what it was, you know (replied ſhe) what Cleopatria did before ſhe would fall into the hand of Ceſar: now ſince I find a great conformity between her misfortunes and mine, it is but fit I ſhould imitate her in her violent end: ſhe would not ſurvive the loſs of her deareſt Anthony, and why ſhould I live after the loſs of my deareſt Ʋrſaces, who was ſo infinitly dear unto my ſoul? Upon this, Eudoxe held her peace, ſhewing by her countenance that this reſolution was pleaſing unto her, and that ſhe wanted not courage to execute it. And therefore I told her, that indeed this remedy was the moſt ſure of all, but yet I did not think it fit ſhe ſhould have recourſe unto it, until the utmoſt extremity: I told her, that I would firſt talk with Genſerick, and try whether I could divert him from his vicious deſign, and after that, I would not be againſt that expedient which ſhe had propounded unto me, but on the contrary would help her the beſt I could, and if need were, I would ſerve her as a guide through that diſmal paſſage, and adviſe her rather to die then loſe her reputation. I preſently found, that my diſcourſe did pleaſe her humour: for taking my hand, go dear Olicarſis (ſaid ſhe unto me) the moſt generous perſon alive; go, and if you can bend the ſoul of yonder Tyrant do: Remember what you have promiſed unto me; and be aſſured that I will die a Princeſs. Upon this compaſſion moved me to drop ſome tears; and having left her, I went unto Genſerick.

I was no ſooner out of the chamber door, but a young man whoſe face I knew, asked to ſpeak with Eudoxe from Thraſimond, and as ſoon as he was brought into the chamber, he kneeled down upon the ground: and having told her that he came from his Maſter, to deſire leave that he might deliver a meſſage unto the young Eudoxe her daughter, the Princeſs did preſently conſent unto it; and to give him the fairer oportunity, ſhe retired into her cloſſet, leaving none with her but Placidia. The young man whom Thraſimond had truſted with his life, did preſently take a Letter out of his pocket, Madam (ſaid he unto her) here is a pledge of thoſe promiſes which my Maſter made yeſterday unto you: by which [Page] you will find, in what ſtate his ſoul is, ſince you did wound it. At this the young Princeſs ſmiled, and not daring to take the Letter; Thraſimond (ſaid ſhe) muſt excuſe me if I do not receive it; but upon condition to open it in the preſence of my Lady and Mother: If you think not that fit, you may carry it back, and tell him, that I do give him moſt humble thanks for honouring me ſo far at to remember me- Madam, replied the young man, Thraſimond is ſo much your moſt humbly devoted ſervant, as he will not deſire any thing, but what you ſhall think fit; but I beſeech you let me not return till I know whether you will ordain him death or life: In ſaying ſo, he offered her the Letter, and the young Eudoxe taking it, ſhe went with Placidia into her Mothers cloſſet, where opening it, they read theſe words.

THRASIMONDS Letter unto the young EUDOXE.

Faireſt EUDOXE,

I Am moſt inſinitly in love with you, and if my paſsion be not as pure and Legitimate as ever was any, then may your rigour make me the moſt miſerable amongſt men. I do know very well, that my affection is a teſtimony of my raſhneſſe; but it is alſo a teſtimony of my reſentment, and your merit: If you think the one worthy of puniſhment, I hope the other is as worthy of recompence: Thus in this uncertainty, whether you ſhould puniſh or recompence, refer it unto the deciſion of time, which is the beſt Judge of all things: Puniſh me if I lie; and if I love you, love me again: I vow, deareſt Eudoxe, I do pity your Fortune, ſince I became a ſlave as you are.

The knowledge which Eudoxe had of Thraſimonds love, did put her into great hopes, imagining that ſhe could make him do great matters: and therefore ſhe her ſelf came with the two young Princeſſes to give an anſwer unto this welcome meſſenger, and to tell him, that ſhe received the affection of his Maſter, as a moſt high honour; that for want of paper and ink, they could not thank him any other way but by voice; and if he expected any other anſwer from them, they ſhould be glad to give it unto himſelf, the next time he honoured them with a viſit. The young man told them, that he was gone abroad and would not return till night, but as ſoon as he did, he would obey their commands: After this, he went out.

In the mean time, as I told you before, I went unto Genſerick, and falling upon the ſubject whereupon I intended to talk with him, I told him in what a ſad and miſerable condition I found Eudoxe after he left her: I told him alſo what inventions I uſed to make her tell me the cauſe of her grief; and that when I knew it, I came expreſly from her, moſt humbly to beſeech him once more not to make any attempts againſt her: I laid before him how ang [...]y the gods would be at ſuch ingratitude, and that he rendred himſelf culpable of a moſt horrid crime, if after the ſpoils, over which ſhe had made him triumph, he ſhould raviſh away her honour. I put him in mind of the Anceſtors from whom that Princeſſe was deſcended, and of ſuch men unto whom ſhe had the honour to be allied: That it was abominable, ſhe who is the daughter and wife of Emperours, ſhould be treated as a ſlave, eſpecially ſince he had never thought upon the conqueſt of Rome, if ſhe had not invited him: I told him alſo, that he was beholding unto her for the glory wherewith hiſtory would honour his life, and that it was not juſt, but ſhamefully, he ſhould eclipſe the luſter of it, by an act. To foul and horrid: and indeed, I uſed all the beſt Rhetorick I had to perſwade with [Page] him; but in lieu of lending any ear to reaſon, became all rage, and mixing jealouſie with his fury, he began, unhappily for me, to fear that I had ſome thoughts to enjoy the ſame happineſſe, over which he was reſolved to triumph. This blind paſſion did ſo diſorder his judgement, as without any thoughts of Eudoxes virtue, he ſuſpected me to be guilty of that crime, from which I would have reclaimed him; and therefore with a fury that ſparkled in his eyes, he ſwore he would that very night have his fill either of love or revenge: and forbidding me ever to ſee her again, he commanded me to retire unto my own houſe, where my chamber was to be my priſon, upon pain of the greateſt puniſhments his anger could invent.

I muſt tell you, it was not the fear of death that made me obey him; but being reſolved to give unto that wiſe Princeſs, the remedy which ſhe intended to imploy when all things were in deſperation, I went and confined my ſelf to my chamber, hoping my captivity would not continue long, ſince it would end by the death of Eudoxe and my ſelf. I no ſooner came into my chamber, but I went into my cloſſet, where I kept all thoſe ſecrets and wonders in Nature, which I had been in collecting above fourty years: and becauſe, with abundance of ſtudy, I had knowledge in all rare and admirable ſecrets, it was not long before I found ſuch ingredients, as would compound a poyſon ſo ſubtil, as would quickly accompliſh my deſign: firſt I took black Agarick, which I had pounded into powder, and having incorporated it with the juice of Thapſis, I mingled an eſſence with it which was extracted from the leaves of Lethale, commonly called deadly Nightſhade; and the leaves of Texo, which the Gauls call, If, or Ewe: afterwards I put into it Aconite, or Wolf-bane; and of all theſe together, having made an extract, I put in a little ſcumm of the deaf Aſpick: and as ſoon as I had put the one half of this into a little glaſs, I took ink and paper, and writ this note unto Eudoxe.

The Note of OLICARSIS unto EVDOXE.

IT is now time, Madam, to take that remedie which I have prepared againſt your miſeries: The injustice of Genſerick hath ſlighted my perſwaſions; and having involved me in your misfortunes, he hath inſpired me alſo to die with you. This night he hath vowed to accompliſh his wicked deſigns, by the loſs of your honour, unleſs you prevent him by the loſſe of your life: Conſult therefore with your courage upon it, and be aſſured that you never had a more glorious occaſion to imploy it.

All things being ready, I called a ſlave which waited upon me, and who uſed to follow me when I went to viſit the Princeſſe: with one hand I gave him the little glaſs, telling him it was a Medicine which ſhe deſired of me, and indeed I did not lie: with my other hand I gave him the Note, which I pretended to be a direction how ſhe ſhould uſe it; but above all, I charged him to be very ſecret, and to make as much haſte back as poſſibly he could.

Be pleaſed to know, that becauſe I would be out of the dinn and trouble of the people, I lodged in the moſt dark and private corner of the Town I could chuſe; and becauſe ſuch places are commonly the receptacles of Thieves and Rogues, rather then ſtudents, it chanced that three or four young men that were conſcious of ſome robberies & murders, were come for a refuge into a lodging very near mine. Juſtices were preſently advertiſed of their coming, and intended to ſurprize them in the beginning of the night: Theſe Thieves were ſtout and deſperate, and by conſequence terrible unto almoſt every one: ſo as to run the leſſe danger, it was contrived to catch them in ſnares; and in order thereunto, they laid in the ſtreets ſeveral cords, about a foot from the ground; and diſtant one from another about five or ſix paces. After this, all the neighbours were commanded to ſtand ready in their Arms, to fall upon them when they were caught in the [Page] ſnares; The ſtratagem did take according to their deſires: but harke I beſeech you what hapned before: my ſlave, who as I told you, was gone upon his errand, and as fortune was, went through this ſtreet; And had not gone above twenty or thirty paces, but running very faſt, his foot was catched in a ſnare and down fell he with his noſe next the ground: now as it is naturall upon ſuch accidents to ſave the face with the hands as much as one can, he broke the glaſs in a hundred peices, and had like to have broak his neck. At the noiſe and out-cry which he made upon his fall, ſome neighbours opened their dores, who as I told you had command to fall upon thoſe theeves and thought that it was now their time to fall on; But when they ſaw only the poor ſlave whoſe blood guſhed out at his noſe they came gently to him, and without farther enquiry whither he went would have lent him a light, to paſs the ſtreet with more ſafty: but he who ſaw the cauſe of his voyage broken, he ſtood ſtill lamenting and complaining, whilſt as ill luck was, two great dogges wherewith one of the neighbours uſed to bait, bulls, at Publique ſhews, did come into the ſtreets: and being greedy of blood, they preſently began to licke that which the ſlave had innocently mingled with the poyſon.

They had not lapped with their tongues above three times, but they tumbled with their feet upwards and died imediately: at which the owner of them was ſo extreamly angry, that needs would he kill my ſlave the very ſame inſtant: and to know the cauſe of ſo ſuddain and ſtrange an end, he ſeiſed upon him, and carryed him to his houſe: where the poor ſlave having given him an accompt of the buſineſs wherin I imployed him he gave him the paper alſo, aſſuring himſelf, that it would ſerve for his juſtification. The man did quickly find out my deſign, and conceiving it moſt fit to acquaint the King, he went preſently to advertiſe him of it. I underſtood ſince that Genſerick was ready to fall down at the ſight of my letter: but at laſt recollecting himſelf, and turning all his fury againſt me, he commanded twelve or fifteen of his guard to go imediatly to my houſe and ſeiſe upon me, and to put me in that priſon where traytors uſed to be locked up: which command was preſently obayed; And I being prepared to die, ſtaying only for the return of my ſlave, they found my dores open, and a glaſs upon the table full of the ſame poiſon, which I thought Eudoxe had received. I will not tell you in what a condition I was when I ſaw this obſtacle unto, my reſolution it will ſuffice you know that imagining the Princeſſe to be dead I did exceedingly rejoice at all thoſe tortures which I conceived were preparing for me.

Thraſimond was returned from hunting a little before: and being extreamly impatient to ſee his Miſtreſſe that he might know what effect his letter produced, he went unto the Palace where Eudoxe was, and telling her all the ſtorye which you have heard, he made the Princeſſe think that her reſolution was not unknown unto him no more then the wicked deſign of Genſerick.

Eudoxe then ſeeing all was diſcovered, and fearing leaſt the King ſhould that night execute what he threatned, ſhe thought good to make uſe or Thraſimonds love, hoping that the honeſt and legitimate paſſion of the ſon would give a ſtop unto the burning and unlawfull luſt of the Father: And indeed, ſhe armed her eyes with all the perſawſive charmes ſhe could to move pitty: ſhe took her hand-handkercheif, and liſting it to her eyes two or three times, ſhe began to ſpeak unto him in this manner. Since Sir you know what intentions Genſerick has upon me it is impoſſible but you ſhould approve of the deſign which I have to prevent by my death that ſhamefull ſtaine wherewith he would ſully my honour and reputation. Though nature had not made me the Daughter unto Theodoſius: and though fortune had not twice ſubmitted the Emperedom of the Eaſt unto me, yet it is enough that I do know what a wife and a woman does owe unto virtue, never to conſent unto the loſs of a thing the price whereof is beyond all value; And certainly what tiranny ſoever Genſerick is reſolved to uſe unto me, his paſſion ſhall ſtill find reſiſtance. That which his violence will not let me execute upon my own perſon, my rage ſhall attempt upon his: and perhaps he ſhall to his woe, find what diſpair can do in the incenſed ſpirit of an honeſt woman, if he be weary of her life which he has undertaken to protect: and if it anger him to hear himſelf [Page] accuſed for violating faith: let him with all my heart take away this life with I live with ſorrow: and if he will let me die gloriouſly and with honour, he ſhall ſee how little I will ſtartle at death; By this, generous Thraſimond, you may perceive that if there be no remedy to ſtop the fury of Genſerick, there is no hopes of my life, or of my two Daughters whom heaven has only left me for witneſſes, or rather Companions in my misfortunes. If, as our laſt refuge, the love which you profeſs unto young Eudoxe be grounded upon honour, certainly you will be her Protector, and will be aſhamed to marry her, after her Mother has loſt that only thing which will be a glory unto her in the match: ſhall it be ever recorded to future ages in hiſtory, that Genſerick would glut his brutiſh luſt upon Eudoxe the captive, and that Thraſimond, the glory of his time, ſtood ſtill and would never offer to be an obſtacle unto ſuch a blacke deſign? Oh good Sir do not ſuffer ſuch a blur to dim the ſtory of your life: And if the young Eudoxe have any power with you, or if you have any pitty upon miſerable perſons, let me execute what Olicarſis had prepared for me; And good Sir, let not that mans innocence bear the blame of that crime which I only committed: it was I who forced him to prepare that poiſon: and his feares only, that I would attempt upon the perſon of the King, made him conſent unto it. Now Sir if for any particular intereſt you may have in my life, you do intend to hinder my death turn, if it be poſſible, the mind of Genſerick I conjure you; I do conjure you unto it even, by Eudoxe if you love her, by theſe teares which I drop at the memorie of my miſeryes; by your ſelf: and by theſe armes which I fixe about your knees, which I will never let go untill you promiſe what I implore from you. In ſaying ſo, ſhe fell down at the feet of Thraſimond, and claſped about the leggs of that Prince with ſo much ſtrength as he was not able to riſe ſo ſoon as he would: at this, he was ſo milted into pity, and Eudoxes deſires to preſerve her honour did pleaſe him ſo well, that his love encreaſed, and made him think that no greater advantage could be unto his fortune then to marry the Daughter of ſo virtuous a Mother; Beſides this, the glory to ſee at his feet a Princeſs whom ſo many millions of people had obeyed, did ſo pleaſingly flatter him that from thence forward he reſolved to uſe his very utmoſt endeavours for her delivery out of thoſe paines which her feares had infuſed into her: and therefore unlooſing Eudoxes armes as well as he could, he preſently kneeled down upon the ground, and helping her up, Madam (ſaid he unto her) hope well in the goodneſs of heaven and in my love: Genſerick ſhall joyn my death unto yours; or if his pity preſerve me, his paſſion ſhall never hurt you.

Upon this, he left her to go unto the King: but he found him not in the Caſtle: for that Barbarian having no thoughts in his mind but the ruine of Eudoxe, and fearing that by the accident which hapned the death of that Princeſſe would be ſome obſtacle unto his deſires, he reſolved to prevent it: and therefore when night came he took two or three eunuchs with him, and by a backe dore, went into the Palace where Eudoxe was detained. As ſoon as Thraſimond was gone out, by fortune the Princeſſe had ſhut her Chamber dore, ſo as Genſerick was conſtrained to knock: and Eudoxe knowing his voice, alſo hearing the eunuchs murmure, ſhe doubted what deſign brought him thither: ſeeing her ſelf out of all meanes then to defend her ſelf, ſhe put the table and all ſhe could lay her hands upon, againſt the dore: hoping perhaps Thraſimond would come to her releif. But when ſhe had a while ſuſtained this ſeige wherin the paſſion of Genſerick warred againſt the virtue of Eudoxe: ſhe reſolved upon a moſt generous deſign for a woman. She with the help of her two daughters, took all the mattes that were under their beds, and other combuſtible things and heaping them togeather in the midſt of the Chamber, ſhe took two lighted candles, and ſetting them a fire: dear flames (ſaid ſhe in a loud voice) be more pure then thoſe of Genſerick, revenge upon me the pernitious deſignes of that Barbarian and be as mercyleſſe unto him as he is unto me: ſhe pronounced theſe words ſo loud and diſtinctly that the King heard every ſillable: ſo as finding thereby the intention of the Princeſſe, and fearing ſome misfortune ſhould follow, he and his eunuchs redoubled their ſtrength and at laſt broke upon the dore: but the fire being kindled [Page] and the ſmoke being incloſed ſtriving for a paſſage, it found it at the opening of the door, and that with ſuch violence, as two of thoſe that were at the door were choaked. Genſerick, ſurprized at this accident, began to flie, and never thinking of any way to quench this fire, only thought of ſaving himſelf. But Thraſimond, after a long ſearch after the King, and coming again to the place where Eudoxe was, he no ſooner ſaw her Pallace on fire; but he preſently thought it an effect of that Princeſſe her courage, or of the revenge of Genſerick. And becauſe he ſaw thoſe flames were like to devour all the ſweet hopes he had of enjoying his Miſtreſſe, he was two or three times ready to caſt himſelf alſo into the flame; yet deſiring firſt to know all particulars of the truth, he began to enquire of all he met, but none could tell him any thing more, then that Eudoxe her ſelf uſed this extremity to free her ſelf from ſervitude.

In the mean while Vrſaces and Olimbres, unto whom the Councel of ſix hundred had refuſed the poiſon, imbarquing at the Port of the Maſſilians, and flattered (as I underſtood ſince) with a thouſand ſweet hopes which an Aſtrologer had infuſed into them, they ſet forward: But as heaven took delight in putting every day new obſtacles unto their proſperity, it ſuffered them to fall into the hands of a Pirate, who in taking away their liberty, took away all the contentments which were promiſed unto them. The name of this Pirate was Clorohalantes, vulgarly called the bloody Pirate; becauſe, beſides his being a Native Barbarian, and baniſhed Africa for a thouſand crimes committed by him, he had made a ſolemn vow, never to pardon any whom Fortune made his ſlaves. He pulled out the eyes of ſome, cut off the noſes, ears, and tongues of others: thus took he delight in torturing men. Sometimes when he was enraged he would pull out the hearts of ſome, and others he would ſacrifice; ſometimes unto Neptune, and ſometimes unto Mercury, as the god of theft. His retreat was moſt commonly into the Iſle of great Brittany, where he found many that was ſutable to his own humour, and by that means found a more ſafe refuge. So as he ſcoured up and fro the Ocean, and often paſſing the ſtraits of Gibralter, otherwiſe called high Earth, he fell into the Mediterranean Sea, and moſt inſolently roved about the Coaſts of Spain. This was the Barbarian that met with the ſhip wherein Vrſaces & Olimbres were, and in a ſhort time borded her: But thoſe two Cavaliers who never uſed to be ſtartled at any dangers, they ſeized each of them upon a ſword and buckler, inciting ſome Merchants to defend themſelves, advanced themſelves to hinder any from leaping into their ſhip: Some Marriners, to whom the name and trade of Pirats were odious, ſeeing an inevitable death had ſurrounded them, them, they reſolved to ſell their lives at as dear and noble a rate as they could: So as ſeizing upon Arms, and joyning themſelves unto Vrſaces and Olimbres, there began a moſt ſharp diſpute. When they firſt began Clorohalantes did nothing but laugh, ſeeing the inequality of forces: But when by the valour of his enemies he ſaw many of his men dead, he began to be very angry, and arming himſelf, he himſelf would needs become a combatant. At the ſight of their Commander, all thoſe who followed his Fortune aſſumed freſh forces, and having him for their guide, did leap into the ſhip where Vrſaces and Olimbres did ſo bravely diſpute for their lives, as every blow that fell from their Arms were mortal unto all upon whom they light. But not to inſiſt upon every particular, it will ſuffice you know that Clorohalantes, ſeeing what little advantage his ſide got, he commanded that they ſhould at the ſame time charge on in the Poup: which was done accordingly, and ſo ſharply, that thoſe which defended themſelves, not being able to withſtand the over numeroſity of their enemies, they let them have ſuch free acceſſe▪ as in leſſe then a quarter of an hour they were maſters of the ſhip; and the ſooner becauſe Vrſaces and Olimbres, after a long reſiſtance, fell at the laſt one by the other, and were exceedingly weak with loſs of abundance of blood. Clorohalantes more proud of this victory then of any he ever got before, he quite forgot the price at which he bought it; but ſtill he retained in his memory the brave reſiſtance which Olimbres made, and a ſlave that fought next him. Therefore he cauſed them to be brought into his ſhip, and commanded their wounds to [Page] be dreſſed, being reſolved to make a moſt ſolemn ſacrifice of them as of the moſt glorious prey that ever he got ſince he knew what belonged unto Arms or Sea.

In order to this deſign he turned ſail towards great Brittain, and ſeeing he had a very favourable wind, he would needs by way of diverſion know, who thoſe were, which by their valour had killed ſo many of his men. And therefore as ſoon as Ʋrſaces and Olimbres, had recovered themſelves a little better, they were brought before this Pirate, who addreſſing himſelf unto Olimbres, as unto him who ſeemed to be the Maſter, he asked him who he was, and from whence he came? Clorohalantes (ſaid Olimbres unto him, with a deportment that ſhewed the generoſity of his ſpirit) I am a Cavalier and a Patrician of Rome: My name is Olimbres; and if thou wilt know by what Fortune I am become thy ſlave, then know, that to ſave the life of a friend, I did not follow Genſerick, when loadned with the ſpoils of Rome, he returned into Africa; Since that, finding no felicity in life, many conſiderations moved me to ſeek out for death; and in order to that, I went to demand poiſon from the councel of ſix hundred, which being denied me, I was conſtrained to conſult with an Oracle, the anſwer whereof made me wend my courſe towards Africa: So I did, imbarquing my ſelf in this ſhip, over which thy Arms hath triumphed, and ſubmitted me unto thy will: As for this ſlave, whom thou ſeeſt with me, I do not know his Fortune, nor what he is: for having bought him but a while ſince, I have no knowledge of him; only I begin to think, by the fight which he hath made with me, that his courage and affection deſerves a better Fate then that which is fallen upon him.

This was all that Olimbres ſaid unto him, and Clorohalantes remembring that he had formerly heard of the name: Was it not you (ſaid he) whom Eudoxe ſent unto the King of the Vandals to ſolicite him to deliver her from the Tyranny of Maximus? Olimbres anſwering that it was, the Pirate ſmiled, and biting his fingers ends: 'Tis very well (ſaid he) the innocent ſhall once ſuffer for the culpable. In ſaying ſo, he cauſed them to be carried away, and commanded their wounds ſhould be carefully dreſſed: from hence forward, he reſolved to be revenged on the perſon of this Cavalier, for all the injuries that he had received from Genſerick; and imagining that he ſhould do an extream diſpleaſure unto that barbarous King, if he ſhewed his hatred upon this occaſion, he reſolved to make Olimbres ſuffer all the infamous tortures he could invent: And to begin his affliction betimes, he ſent him word what he was to expect: which meſſage Olimbres received without the leaſt diſmay; but fearing what would become of Vrſaces, he began to make ſuch ſad complaints, that even Clorohalantes himſelf, though a Barbarian, could not hear them without compaſſion. Olimbres knew, that but for him, the life of his friend had never been expoſed unto ſo many miſfortunes: So as finding himſelf culpable of all the miſeries which Vrſaces ſuffered, and of thoſe which were menaced, he could not chuſe but curſe the very day of his birth. Olimbres prepared himſelf for the worſt, he did all that poſſibly he could to comfort himſelf in this thought, that the laſt minute of his life would be the moſt glorious unto him, ſince it gave him a means to make it appear unto what degree his affection was arrived.

Thus they continued ſome dayes; during which, their wounds healed ſo faſt, as they were perfectly cured: and as if heaven were weary with tormenting them with any longer miſeries, a tempeſt aroſe at Sea, and ſo violent it was, that the ſhips of Clorohalantes, being forced to yield unto the violence of the ſtorm, they were driven by the wind and we then amongſt the reſt of thoſe ſhips which Genſerick had loadned with the plunder of Rome, and which lying at Anchor for a favourable wind: Then Clorohalantes, becauſe he would not fall into the hands of Genſerick he killed himſelf: This unlookt for deliverance was an Omen of good Fortune unto Vrſaces and Olimbres, who being releaſed from their fetters, longed to embrace each other; but they forbore, leſt their Careſſes ſhould too much undiſguiſe them and make them known. It was not long before they had a wind according to their wiſh ſo preſently after, they came within ſight of the Towers in Carthage; and becauſe he who commanded in chief would ſend unto [Page] Genſerick, not only the news of their arrivall, but alſo of taking and defeat of Clorohalantes, Olimbres as being the moſt undeniable witneſs of it, was put upon this commiſſion, he went therefore into a cockboate, and taking Vrſaces, and ſome other with him, he made towards the port in the beginning of the night: and whem they came near they perceived ſome little lights like unto ſtarres in the Firmament which made them conceive they were very near the Town, the ſweet hopes of ſeeing Eudoxe and Placidia, filled Vrſaces, and Olimbres with ſo great a joy, that they were even tranſported: and whilſt they were conſulting how they ſhould carry themſelves in this buſines they preſently perceived a great ſmoak, in which appeared many great flaſhes of fire, which ſometimes broke out into flames, which ſeemed to proceed from ſome furious conflagration. This made them fixe their looks upon that deplorable object: and as they drew near they ſaw the fire greater, and ſometimes they heard a confuſed murmure of many voices togeather, they could not chuſe but greive to ſee the fury of this inſatiable element, and though they did not know that they themſelves were more intereſted in the misfortune then any, for it was the ſame fire which Eudoxe kindled to avoid the violence of Genſerick, yet were they much troubled at it. They were no ſooner come to the port, but Olimbres making himſelf known, they ran preſently to acquaint the King: In the mean while enquiring only out of curioſity, the cauſe of that fire, he preſently underſtood by the common bruit of the Town, that the fire was in the place where Eudoxe, and her daughters were detained, that it was almoſt impoſſible they ſhould eſcape, and that conſequently they were periſhed in the flames: and that it was generally beleived Eudoxe her ſelf did ſet the houſe on fire, to free her ſelf from captivity. At this ſad news Vſraces fell down: and Olimbres ſtood ſo confuſed, that it was long before he was able to open his mouth; but to ſpend no time in needleſs relation of their ſorrowes, ſince you may eaſily imagine them let me only tell you, that after many a complaint againſt heaven for preſerving them ſo oft from ſeverall perills, they accuſed the gods of injuſtice, as if they had preſerved them from a leſſer burthen of miſeryes to endure a greater.

At laſt, hindring each other from making any attempts upon their perſons, they intended to return unto the Maſſilians aſſuring themſelves that now they had ſuch good reaſons to die, as it was impoſſible the poiſon ſhould be denied them. They had no ſooner fixed themſelves upon this courſe but Thraſimond came unto the place where Olimbres was: and becauſe thoſe who went to carry the news of Olimbres arivall, could not ſpeak with the Father, they were conſtrained to make their addreſſes unto the ſon: and becauſe Olimbres in his African voyage had gotten the affectionate freindſhip of that Prince, Thraſimond went with joy to receive him; They had no ſooner embraced each other, but Thraſimond began firſt to ſpeak: dear Olimbres (ſaid he in a loud voice) you are arrived at a time wherin you will find all our court in great diſorder. If I be not miſtaken (anſwered the ſad Olimbres) I do know the principall cauſe, and certainly, after the death of three ſuch fair Princeſſes, joy were far out of ſeaſon, Olimbres could not chuſe but ſend forth a moſt profound ſigh as he ſaid ſo: and Thraſimond to conceal his joyes whiſpered that Cavelier in the ear; The misfortune (ſaid he unto him) is nothing ſo great as is beleived: upon this taking him by the arme he carried backe into the boate, wherin none was but Ʋrſaces who was ſtriving betwixt life and death: and cauſing all the men to ſtand at a diſtance and candles to be taken away, when he thought none could hear but Olimbres, he began this diſcourſe. Dear freind (ſaid he unto him) I muſt make two very particular confeſſions unto you; by the one I muſt confeſſe my own raſhneſſe, and by the other, my Fathers ſhame: upon this, he related unto him, how he was in love with the young Eudoxe, and how ſhe received him: afterwards he related the violence which Genſerick uſed towards Eudoxe, the Mother; He told him of my impriſonment by reaſon of the poiſon which I had prepared for her: at laſt he told him of all the attempts which the King had made upon the Chamber of that Princeſſe, and how ſhe ſet it on fire: after this; Now dear Olimbres (continued he) you muſt know, that Eudoxe had no ſooner kindled the fire, not any horrors of [Page] death, but ſorrowes to be a cauſe of her two Daughters death did ſo far enter into her ſoul, as ſhe could not chuſe but retire her ſelf into another Chamber where the two Princeſſes lay; Then ſhutting the door, and remembring the affection which I had profeſſed, ſhe began to think, that perhaps if ſhe could eſcape this danger, Genſerick would leave purſuing her or that I would find out ſome way to ſtop him. This conſideration made her conſent not to die yet: ſo as opening the window towards the garden, by fortune ſhe eſpied at her feet two ſheets▪ which ſhe tyed togeather, and by them ſhe firſt let down Eudoxe, next Placidia, and laſtly her ſelf; Olimbres having no patience: How? (ſaid he, and interrupted) is not Eudoxe dead? ſhe is not (anſwered Thraſimond) ſhe ran unto a little houſe in the corner of the garden belonging to the Gardiner, whom ſhe awaked, (for as you know, thoſe kind of men go to bed betimes) ſhe made him open the door, and as ſoon as ſhe was entred: freind (ſaid ſhe unto him) the palace is all on fire. Upon this the Gardiner who by reaſon of the darkneſs did not know Eudoxe, he went out, and was not long before he ſaw the flames flaſh out of the Chamber from whence the Princeſſes came; then coming in again in a great amaſe, good gods (ſaid he) what will become of the fair priſoners? They are in a place (anſwered Eudoxe) where their lives do depend upon thee; and if thou wilt preſerve them, I will make thee happy for ever. Upon this, ſhe cauſed him to light up a candle; and the poor fellow in a mighty confuſion asking her what ſhe would have him to do; all that I would have thee do (ſaid Eudoxe) is to hide us, leaſt ſome ſhould come and ſurpriſe us; then would I have thee ran in all haſt and acquaint Thraſimond where we are but above all, be ſure that no living ſoul know it but only he.

The Gardiner then finding no ſafer place to put them in then a little cave which was near his houſe, their he hid them, and came to tell me what Eudoxe commanded. He had as much a do to get unto me, as I had to get out of the croud; for you muſt know Olimbres, that the town is in ſuch a confuſion, ſo as one could hardly know another in the diſorder. But at laſt I followed him to his little houſe, upon which abundance of ſparks began already to fall; which making me fear it would at length be burned I could not not give any teſtimones of my joy unto the Princeſſes: but carrying them as ſecretly as I could unto the houſe of one of my domeſtiques not far from thence, I gave ſome money to the Gardiner, and charged him upon paine of his life to be ſilent. Leaving them then in ſafty there, I returned unto the Caſtle to ſee the King, but I could not: for the horror of this accident had ſo terified him that he would not be ſeen by any. Thus was I the firſt that knew of your return where at I much rejoyce, and aſſure you, dear Olimbres, that I will continue in the ſame deſires which I have, and ever had to love and ſerve you. This was the diſcourſe of Thraſimond, which was abundance of joy unto Olimbres and I ſhould have ſaid it had bin the higheſt degree, if the joyes of Ʋrſaces had been comparable unto his. That diſguiſed Cavelier heard all that the Prince ſaid, for he being behind in the boate, they took no notice of him; And his joyes to hear that his Miſtreſſe was alive did ſo tranſport him into the other extream, as formerly he was in his miſeryes and greif. Yet heaven which would preſerve him for the felicity of Eudoxe, would not ſuffer him to die upon this exceſſe of delight: but following Olimbres, whom Thraſimond would needs have to lodge in the Caſtle, they were no ſooner alone, but they began to embrace each other, and ſpent almoſt all the night in relating their adventures.

The next morning Genſerick heard of the return, and of his ſhippes, and of Olimbres but the memory of this late diſmall accident, would not ſuffer him to be ſenſible of thoſe joyes which at another time, he had reſented. Yet he welcomed Olimbres as well as he could: and deſiring to hide from poſterity the true cauſe of Eudoxes death, he began to invent, all the excuſes he could deviſe to palliate that crime which he had committed. Olimbres ſeemed to beleive all the King ſaid, and fetching a hundred diſſembled ſighes for the loſſe of theſe three Princeſſes, he obſerved, that the memory of this ſad tragedy had infuſed ſome repentance into the King: and indeed, he greived ſo extreamly at it, as one might read repentant ſorrow in his eyes: and to leave ſome teſtimony of that eſteem which he had [Page] of Eudoxe, though a captive, he cauſed her corps to be ſearched amongſt the reliques of the combuſtion. They found the bodies of the three Eunuches which the flame had ſmothered, but ſo conſumed as none of them retaining any form, they were taken for the corpſes of the Princeſſe, and her two daughters; Genſerick he prepared a moſt ſtatly monument to be erected for them, and commanding them to be put into coffins of ſilver he alſo gave orders they ſhould be very carefully guarden.

In the mean Thraſimond who feared that Eudoxe was not ſafe enough in the Town, he cauſed her to be carried unto a very fair houſe which he had in the Countrey, not far from Carthage. As ſoon as conveniently he could, he carryed Olimbres thither alſo, under a pretence of diverting him: but as ſoon as Eudoxe ſaw him, ſhe was ſo ſurpriſed as ſhe fell into a ſwond, yet at laſt recovering, and deſiring to ſpeak with him in private, ſhe carried him into another chamber, leaving Thraſimond with the young Eudoxe and Placidia. As ſoon as ſhe was alone with Olimbres, ſhe called into her memory all the ſervices of Vrſaces, and the thoughts of his death did ſo afflict her, that her teares, and her ſighes would not of a long time let her tongue do its office. At laſt, as ſoon as ſhe could ſpeak, well Olimbres (ſaid ſhe unto him) what do you think of my fortune? Am I not extreamly miſerable that whether I would or no, muſt live after the loſs of your freind? In ſaying ſo, her voice was loſt again, amongſt her ſighes, and teares, and Olimbres beginning to ſpeak, Madam, anſwered he, ſince heaven has ſo ordained it, you are infinitly to be commended, for conforming your will unto it: and perhaps in recompence, it will one day deliver you from the memory of that ſad accident. Alas (replied Eudoxe) it will rather to puniſh me: for know Olimbres, that let this memory bring me what miſeryes, and affliction it will, I had rather die then not preſerve it. But ſince all my teares cannot call Vrſaces backe, good Olimbres acquaint me with the particulars of your voyage, and I ſhall relate my misfortunes unto you. Madam (ſaid the Cavelier) Prince Thraſimond has made me acquainted with moſt of your affaires: and a [...] in relation to my ſelf I ſhall quickly ſatisfy your curioſity. Then he told her of the laſt freindly office, which he ſeemed to have done unto Vrſaces, and afterwards told her how he was taken captive by Clorohalantes: then how the counſell of ſixe hundred had denied him poyſon; how he was delivered and laſtly how he came to Carthage, without any other trayn but a ſlave which he bought to beſtow upon her. What ſoever it be (ſaid Eudoxe) that comes from the hand of Olimbres, I ſhall hold it in a moſt particular eſteem: but if you will beſtow him upon me it ſhall be upon a condition that I ſhall give him his liberty. Madam, (ſaid Olimbres) I do not think that he would have it: upon this he went out to look for Vrſaces, who was in ſuch impatience to her who had the diſpoſition of his life, as his ſoul was ſenſible of all extraordinary motions; At laſt, being ſwelled with love, with fear, and with reſpect, he was brought into the preſence of Eudoxe: as ſoon as he entred into her chamber he caſt himſelf at her feet; Then the Princeſſe laying her hand upon his head, I do take you for mine (ſaid ſhe unto him) ſince Olimbres will have it ſo, and will from hence forward take away the name of ſlave, and make you free. Upon this, ſhe commanded him to riſe: Madam, (ſaid Vrſaces) another would give you thanks for this favour; But truly I think no felicity comparable unto my ſervitude: I told you (replied Olimbres) that he would not take the liberty which you would give him: In ſaying ſo, he caſt his eyes upon the Princeſſe, and obſerved her to change collour: and indeed, at the voice of Vrſaces all her blood came into her face, and ſtepping back to looke upon him, Vrſaces roſe up: and Eudoxe in a ſtrange ſurpriſe. Good gods (ſaid ſhe) is not this Vrſaces whom I ſee? It is he Madam, (anſwered Vrſaces, and went unto her) who is come to ſeek from you that death which both gods, and men have denied unto: Oh my dear Vrſaces (cryed out Eudoxe) upon this ſhe took him about the neck and for a while remained in an extaſie with in his armes. At laſt, being recollected, Vrſaces rendred her an accompt of all the accidents that had hapned unto him: and after that Olimbres beginning to ſpeak Madam (ſaid he unto her) firſt, the habit which Vrſaces weares do ſute well with the [Page] condition wherin his ſoul is to you wards: ſecondly I thought it the beſt way, to hide him from the knowledge of Genſerick for he knows it was that Cavelier who killed Maximus, and having committed almoſt the ſame fault againſt you, he has reaſon to fear the like puniſhment; and therefore I conceive it beſt to conceale your joyes, to the end Thraſimond, who perhaps being like unto his Father, may not diſcover his diſguiſement. Eudoxe did approve of Olimbres counſell: ſo as after ſhe had given thanks unto the gods for the preſervation and return of Vrſaces, ſhe went unto Thraſimond, who after many teſtimonies of joy at the favours which he received from his Miſtreſſe, told Olimbres it was time to return unto Carthage, to ſee in what humour Genſerick was.

Ʋrſaces, yet he ſtayed with Eudoxe; but I will not mention thoſe ſweet entertainments which they had together: for at the ſame time Genſerick would be revenged upon me for all the diſpleaſures which he reſented by the pretended death of Eudoxe; and had not Thraſimond told him, that ſince Olicarſis had ſaved his life, he could do no leſs then do the like for him, I verily believe he had put me to ſome ignominious death.

Olimbres continued ſome dayes at Court, and had no other contentment but what he received from the friendſhip of Thraſimond and Placidia, whom he viſited very often under the pretence of waiting upon the Prince a hunting; for the King grieved ſo extreamly at the memory of that Fatal fire, as he could not look upon any with a kind aſpect. He is, as I told you before, of a nature barbarous enough, and yet he did much value his honour: ſo as knowing how this laſt action of his would ſtain it, he grieved beyond meaſure, and did all that poſſibly he could to ſtifle the memory of it.

Olimbres then ſeeing he could not be any more ſerviceable unto Eudoxe, he deſigned to return unto Marcian, hoping the authority of that Emperour might procure the liberty of this Princeſſe: But Thraſimond who had other thoughts, when Olimbres did communicate his intention to him, I would have you ſeem (ſaid he unto Olimbres) as if you did take your leave of the King, that you may ſo try his affection unto you; but I would not have you leave me, for I ſhall imploy you in the ſervice of Eudoxe. Olimbres promiſing to obey all his commands, he went unto Genſerick, and moſt humbly beſought him for leave to return, ſince he had no ſervice to command him there: aſſuring him that he ſhould think himſelf infinitly honoured in the continuance of his friendſhip. The King, who loved this Cavalier well; and knew that the death of Placidia who was promiſed unto him, had extreamly offended him; he reſolved not to let him go without ſome ſatisfaction, and therefore deſired him, not to think of his departure for ſome certain dayes, after which he ſhould be at liberty to do what he pleaſed. Olimbres was contented to ſtay as long as the King commanded, and the King, communicating unto Thraſimond his deſign unto Olimbres, he asked him what he ſhould do to oblige that Cavalier: The Prince propounded ſeveral wayes, and was very glad to find the Kings affection beyond his hopes: He acquainted Olimbres with it, and told him, that if he could but comply handſomly with that opportunity, he might diſpoſe Genſerick unto what he would. Olimbres even raviſhed at this, beſeeched him to negotiate ſo with the King, as to get him to go unto the houſe where Eudoxe was; and told him that the only expedient was to invite him unto a dinner in that place, which indeed was the fineſt ſeat about all Carthage: Thraſimond thought this no hard matter to do, and therefore making the propoſition unto the King, they appointed a day for it.

In the interim the Cavalier acquainted Eudoxe with his reſolution, and though ſhe did find ſome difficulty in it, yet ſhe did approve on't, being aſſured of Vrſaces his love, of Thraſimonds promiſes, and Olimbres his fidelity. The day appointed being come, Genſerick, Thraſimond, Olimbres, and many others of the beſt rank in all Carthage, went betimes in the morning unto the houſe where the Prince had ordered the Tables in the dining room, to be near unto the chamber of the Princeſſes. And there, as ſoon as dinner was done, Olimbres addreſſing himſelf unto the King, did beg that leave which before he had asked: Genſerick then in a moſt affectionate manner, dear Olimbres (ſaid he unto him) I do [Page] find your deſires ſo juſt and reaſonable, as I ſhould be extreamly aſhamed to oppoſe them any longer. 'Tis true I am very ſorry that I have not given any teſtimony of that affection which I bear unto you; but till occaſions fall out that I may, I beſeech you accept of my good intentions, and be aſſured, that I would do any thing which would be contentment unto you. Sir, replied Olimbres, after many thanks, you may if you pleaſe do two high favours for me in one moment, and did I not fear denial, I ſhould aſſume ſo much boldneſſe as to ask them of you. Upon this, the King making a ſolemn vow not to deny him any thing he would ask, Olimbres kneeled down upon the ground, Sir (ſaid he) ſince it is your Royal pleaſure to ſay ſo, I do ask of you the liberty of Eudoxe and Olicarſis. In ſaying ſo, Thraſimond opened the chamber door where the Princeſſe was trembling with her two daughters: and the King ſurprized at an accident ſo little expected, ſtood a while and knew not what he did. At laſt, being moved at the tears of Eudoxe, who came preſently and caſt her ſelf at his feet, having Placidia in one hand, and her ſiſter in the other, he granted the requeſt of Olimbres, and promiſed for the future to treat her as a Princeſs, not as a ſlave. Thraſimond, who would alſo make uſe of his time, he beſeeched Genſerick to give him the young Eudoxe for his wife; and the King knowing what advantages this would be unto him, did conſent unto it. Amidſt this common joy, I was not forgotten, for Genſerick at that very inſtant ſent for me; but I, who knew I was never to go out of priſon, until I went to execution, I confeſſe that I had ſo prepared my ſelf for death, as I thought they only jeſted with me: At laſt my own eyes cleared me all thoſe ſuſpicions: for being brought into the Kings preſence▪ there I ſaw Eudoxe at liberty, and received a pardon for my life.

The news of this accident was quickly ſpred all over the Town, and the Princeſſes were waited upon unto their lodgings with all uſual magnificence. Vrſaces was the only one unſatisfied, as fearing the King would fall into his paſſionate fits again; but preſently after, he found by the King [...] repentant tears, that he would never make more attempts againſt the chaſtity of Eudoxe, but had quenched his flames with tears, and indeed a little while after, he ſent her back to Conſtantinople, with her two Daughters, in a moſt honourable Equipage: unto which ſhe was no ſooner come, but Vrſaces having married Eudoxe in great ſolemnity, he received that happineſs which Fortune had made him pay ſo dear for: And where Olimbres, by the command of Marcian, and conſent of Eudoxe, he found his long'd for happineſſe in the arms of Placidia, as a reward of his fidelity.

The great Olicarſis had no ſooner ended his diſcourſe, but Phillis entred, yet ſo out of breath, that ſhe aſtoniſhed all the company, eſpecially Adamas and Belinde, who feared extreamly that ſhe brought them ſome ill news concerning Aſtrea, Diana, and Alexis: therefore the Druide, who thought it beſt, that if any diſaſter had hapned, not to acquaint Belinde with it upon ſuch a ſudden, he roſe up and went to meet her: and Phillis no ſooner was come up to him, but with extream amazement, O Father (ſaid ſhe unto him) I can tell you the ſtrangeſt accident, that ever was heard or ſeen: Astrea and Diana are found; they are both aſleep cloſe by the Fountain of Loves verity. Abundance of Shepherds & Shepherdeſſes ſtand looking upon them, but not one has ſo much courage as to go near them. For (and this is the greateſt wonder) the two Unicorns lie cloſe by them, with their heads upon the knees of my companions: they grinn and roar ſo terribly at any that offer to come near them, that not a Shepherd dares attempt it.

This did extreamly aſtoniſh the Druide; for he plainly ſaw the deſign of the two Shepherdeſſes, but that which moſt troubled him was, his fears that they were dead already; and that none daring to come nearer them, it was credible they all thought them ſo: yet being unwilling to tell Belinde what he thought, he went unto her, and told her what Phillis had ſeen: Belinde roſe up preſently, and in her exceſs of joy, forgetting her duty unto Roſanira and Galathea, ſhe went out of the Gallery, intending to run unto the place where ſhe thought Diana was; but Adamas would not ſuffer her; be not ſo haſty (ſage Belinde, ſaid [Page] he unto her) you need not take the pains of going to them, for we will ſend ſome others: Pardon me, anſwered Belinde, I muſt not defer it one minute longer: I cannot live, if I do not immediatly ſee her, and ſince Phillis has told me where ſhe is, if you love me let me go unto her and bring her back. My intention, Madam (anſwered the Druide) is not to hinder you from ſeeing her, but on the contrary, I will make as much haſte as you: yet ſince Phillis does know ſo well where theſe two Shepherdeſſes are, let her be my guide, and never trouble your ſelf, for I will take upon me the charge of bringing her back. However, Father, ſaid Galathea, do not refuſe our company, for it is a ſight ſo remarkable, as all of us will be glad to be ſpectatours of it. Surely (ſaid Belinde, when ſhe ſaw Adamas conſenting unto it) I am ſhe that has moſt intereſt in theſe women, and why ſhould not I alſo ſee them? and believe it I muſt, for I had rather incur your diſpleaſure, in diſobeying you, then not ſee them in what place ſoever they be.

Adamas would willingly have diſſwaded her, as thinking ſtill that theſe fair ones were not in ſuch a condition as would give her any contentment: but all his arguments being not ſo prevalent as the love and impatiency of Belinde, it was reſolved upon, that ſhe would make one of the company. They ſet forward then altogether: and the Druide asking Phillis, how, and in what manner, Aſtrea and Diana were found, you muſt know Father (anſwered ſhe) that this morning we all parted, every one taking a ſeveral way as we did yeſterday; Licidas he took towards the Fountain, I told him alſo which way I would go, and in caſe any of us heard any news of them, we agreed to meet all at noon, at the ſame place where we met yeſterday, which was by the ſide of the river Lignon: I came unto the rendezvous before him, for to tell you truly I began to deſpair in my queſt: After I had been there a while, I ſaw him coming a great pace towards me, but as ſad as he was in the morning when we parted: As ſoon as he was come unto me: Ah Phillis (ſaid he very ſadly) if you would ſee Aſtrea and Diana, they are not far from hence: I ſaw them cloſe by one another faſt aſleep: Then I interrupting him, have you ſeen them? (ſaid I in a great amazement) for god ſake, good Lycidas conduct me to them, and make no more delay: Indeed (anſwered he) I did ſee them, and will let you ſee them alſo; but if you love me, do not oblige me to ſpeak unto them, or go near them: for if I do, it will prove as fatal unto me as death it ſelf. You think (ſaid I unto him) that Aſtrea is angry with you; but you may very well be ſatisfied, ſince ſhe has asked you pardon: Alas, alas, replied the Shepherd, words are never able to repair that injury which I received from her in the perſon of my brother: whilſt we were thus talking, we came nearer; and as ſoon as he ſhewed me the place where my companions were, or at the leaſt where he left them: Do you ſee yonder old Altar (ſaid he unto me) which time hath demoliſhed? They do lie at the feet of thoſe ſtairs upon which it is erected: I did ſee the place to which he pointed with his finger; but being unwilling he ſhould leave me, I ſtill went on, and ſeemed as if I did not ſee it. At laſt, when I began to perceive Aſtrea and Diana, me thinks (ſaid I unto him) that I do ſee ſomething; but it is ſo confuſedly, as if you do not go along with me, I ſhall hardly hit the way unto them: Alas Phillis (anſwered he) why will you be any cauſe of ſo much ſorrows unto me? upon this looking up, and ſeeing we were nearer then he thought: unleſs you be blind (ſaid he) you cannot miſs the place where they are: as he ſaid ſo, I obſerved that he looked upon them very attentively, but (ſaid he) I ſee ſomething there, which was not there when I left them; perhaps (ſaid I) it is Alexis: This hope made us go ſomething nearer, but when we were within fourty or fifty paces, Licidas made a ſudden ſtop. Miſtreſs (ſaid he) for gods ſake go no further, for I ſee two fierce beaſts with them, and if I be not miſtaken, they are the U [...]nicorns which uſe to guard the Fountain of verity in Love. I muſt needs confeſs Father, that a ſecret chill fear glided through all my veins; and I was glad that at the very ſame inſtant, Hylas and Adraſtes appeared in ſight: for under pretence of going to advertiſe them of this Novelty, I got further off from their fury; but yet, taking a little courage, I returned with them, and finding my ſelf more ſtrong in their company, I looked [Page] more confidently upon my companions: I ſaw them in the ſame condition as Licidas told me, to wit, lying at the ſtairs foot of that Altar: Moreover, I obſerved they embraced each other, and the two Unicorns leaned their heads upon them. I could have wiſhed with all my heart, that theſe two cruel creatures had ſtood in as much fear of me, as I did of them, that we might have had more free acceſs unto my companions; but they would not ſtir from thoſe fair Shepherdeſſes, and there was not a Shepherd that durſt ſtir a ſtep nearer them. Seeing then, that my ſtay there would not at all advantage them, I thought beſt to come, and acquaint you, and in comming, I met Celidea, Thamires St [...]lla, Do [...]is, and ſeverall others, whom I told where they might be witneſſes of this adventure: Alas alas (ſaid Adamas) this is a moſt ſad adventure: for Aſtrea who feares the world has an ill opinion of her virtue, by reaſon of Celadons diſguiſement, will have this way to be a tryall of her purity: becauſe it is the property of thoſe beaſts never to come near any have been once poluted.

Thus all the Company talked as they went, whilſt at the ſame time Alexis and Silvander were in their way to execute that enterpriſe which they reſolved upon the day before: They awaked not ſo ſoon as they deſired: for they feared that if the Sun were up they ſhould meet ſome who would be obſtacles unto their deſign; yet being fully reſolved to go on through all difficulties, and thinking upon nothing but this laſt munite which would free them from all the Tyrannies of fortune, they went ſo faſt that they came in a very ſhort time unto the Altar where Aſtrea, and Diana lay aſleep; Alexis was the firſt that eſpied them, and being ſupriſed at this encounter ſhe made a ſudden ſtop: Silvander who obſerved her aſtoniſhment, and asking her the cauſe; Alas dear freind (anſwered Alexis) would not you be a moſt ſuppriſed perſon, if as Aſtrea does preſent her ſelf before me, Diana ſhould once more honour you with a veiw of her fair face? Indeed I ſhould (ſaid Silvander) but that were a happineſs, which is ſo far beyond my hopes, as I think it impoſſible to be. Yet, replied Alexis, if you turn but your eye towards yonder altar, which is a little raiſed up above the levell of the plain, and which is not far diſtant from us, you ſhall ſee with Aſtrea a ſhepherdeſs to whom you wiſh no ill. Silvander then looking that way, and ſeeing Diana, his colour went, and came into his face two or three times; and in this amazement being hardly able to ſpeak: Oh heavens (cryed he out) oh Diana? Upon this, making more haſt towards them, they came ſo near thoſe ſhepherdeſſes that they could diſcern every feature in their faces, and Alexis, who fell down at the feet of Aſtrea, cruell fair one (ſaid he in a low voice, and with a deep ſigh, heaven is unjuſt to grant unto you ſo much reſt after you have by your hatred cauſe myne to ceaſe. And you Diana (ſaid Silvander unto her) do you come unto this alter to thank the gods for giving you the poſſeſſion of Paris? or do you come to complain againſt them for raviſhing you from the inviolable love of Silvander? after this, both being ſilent a while; But fair Aſtrea (replied Alexis) who maugre all your rigours, is moſt dear unto me; cannot I read in thoſe fair eyes, the cauſe your comming hither? Oh ſleep, be not thou as cruell unto me, as thou art ſweet unto this in humain fair one: Oh thou god of reſt and comfort, let her look once upon me, before I die; But (continued ſhe, and reprehended her ſelf) I have no reaſon to invoke thee, ſince the cruelty of Aſtrea ſhews me, that Divinities themſelves are ſometimes inſenſible.

Faireſt Diana (ſaid Silvander, and gently kiſſed her fair hands) receive theſe few teares, which I now drop upon the Lillies of your hand as the laſt teſtimony of your ſhepherds love: Receive oh ye faireſt lips this ſad, and deplorable adieu: and if it be poſſible my paſſion can inſpire any thing into your ſoul, let not my name die in your memory. In ſaying ſo be adventured to kiſſe her, and yet ſhe did not waken: for ſhe had been ſo long without ſleep, and was ſo very weary, as ſhe ſlept moſt ſoundly; Alexis on her ſide, ſhe ſtole the ſame favour from the ruby lips of Aſtrea, and afterwards, looking upon Silvander, but ſhepherd (ſaid he unto him) unto whom are we debtors for theſe favours, but to their inſenſibility? Let us retreat Silvander, and not mixe ſuch ſweets with ſo many bitters which we uſe to taſt, let us leave theſe beauties whom we have ſo religiouſly [Page] adored unto their reſt, and not ſtay till they ſhall awake, and condemn this laſt action of our lives, of too much preſumption; Let us go Silvander whither our deſtinies do call us: come on, anſwered Silvander, let us go and die; But (ſaid he before he went, and kiſſed the hand of Diana) adieu, the faireſt that ever lived upon the bankes of Lignon; adieu Diana: adieu the object of my love, and the cauſe of my torments. Upon this he roſe up, and heard Alexis ſay: and thou the faireſt, and moſt inhumane that ever was, dear Aſtrea, if it happen that the fury of the Lyons, and Unicornes do leave ſo much reliques of me as may let you know my deplorable, and generous end; know alſo that my love made choiſe of this kind of death, and your rigour was the cauſe of it; I do not deſire from heaven any revenge upon your cruelty; but I beſeech the gods to make my innocency, and fidelity to known unto you, as you may never doubt but that as I have been the moſt faithfull of all lovers, ſo you have been the moſt cruell of all Miſtreſſes; in ſaying ſo ſhe roſe up, and taking Silvander by the hand; they went both togeather towards the fountain.

This encounter paſſed whilſt Lycidas went to advertiſe Phillis of the place where he had found the ſhepherdeſſes, and before they returned Alexis, and Silvander were got ſo near the inchanted fountain that the two Unicornes which firſt eſpied them, left the Lyons to guard it, and came ſtraight towards them. Alexis who looked for nothing but death, ſtood ſtill: and Silvander who looked for no leſs, did open his armes to receive that mortall wound which would take him away from the number of men, but the Unicornes, which came moſt furious towards them, paſſed by, and did them no harm. This accident which was far beyond their hopes did extreamly aſtoniſh them: but deſiring to know what would be the iſſue, they turned about, and looked after them. They ſaw them go gently towards Diana, and Aſtrea, and after they had gazed a while upon the ground, they layed themſelves down upon the ground, and leaned their heades upon thoſe ſhepherdeſſes: at firſt they feared that theſe Animals would have done them ſome injury, and therefore they advanced to releive them: yet as ſoon as they ſaw them laid down, they ſtopt, and admired to ſee ſo much ſweetneſs from them as in nature they might well expect moſt cruelty.

They were in theſe conſiderations when they ſaw Lycidas, and Phillis comming: ſo as fearing to be perceived they laid them down upon the groud, and hiding themſelves behind a little buſh, obſerved a while their actions, and aſtoniſhment: at laſt, when they ſaw Phillis leave Lycidas, a while after eſpied Hylas and Adraſtes, and all the reſt unto whom that ſhepherdeſs had told the newes of finding Aſtrea, and Diana. Alexis then ſeeing a great number of perſons aſſembling themſelves togeather, he turned towards Silvander: ſhepherd (ſaid he unto him) pray go you unto that good company: you had much better be with them then with me whoſe Company is ſo contageous as does infect all that are with me, with a deſire of d [...]ing. Your Company (anſwered Silvander) does not produce the ſame effects in me, ſince on the contrary I may ſay it has hindred me, or at leaſt deferred my death; For certainly had not you diverted me yeſterday from my reſolution, I ſhould ere this have paid that tribute which I owe unto nature. But as for you Celadon (continued he) why ſhould you ſo willfully fly from the looks of your fair ſhepherdeſs? though Aſtrea was angry with you, yet it was only out of a paſſionate fit which ſhe could not reſiſt, and ſince it was ſo violent as could not laſt long; Follow my advice go, and appeaſe the ſpirit of that fair ſhepherdeſs, who doubtleſs is in extream impatience to know what is become of you: you will thereby oblige all the ſhepherds, and ſhepherdeſſes in this Countrey; for I am ſure there is not one who is not much intereſted in you eyther by blood or affection; But I, poor ſilly wretch I, wonder who would care whether I do live or die; Firſt Diana: ſhe will find a ſubject of incomparable ſatisfaction by my death, becauſe thereby ſhe will be rid of him, whoſe preſence will eternally accuſe her, and make her appear culpable of perfidy: as for the reſt of ſhepherds, and ſhepherdeſſes: alas why ſhould any of them be ſenſible of my miſeryes, ſince my death muſt needs be as indifferent unto them as my life; For not being known unto any, no my own ſelf, not knowing what I am, why [Page] ſhould any make me the object of his amity? a vagabond, and a miſerable wretch who has reſented the very worſt of fortunes malice. Your merit replied Alexis, hath ſupplied all thoſe defects which you alleadge, and has given you as much eſteem from all of any quality in this Countrey then if you had been deſcended from the moſt illuſtrious families in all Forreſts, No no, aſſure your ſelf Silvander, your death would be infinitly lamented by all, and every one will lament your loſs: as loſing the glory of the Province in loſing you who are the moſt perfectly accompliſhed ſhepherd in it: ſo as your will in expoſing your ſelf unto the fury of the Lyons is not juſt: becauſe you do not only offend the gods, by diſtroying their moſt perfect work, but alſo men, by raviſhing from them the rareſt example of virtue they ever had. Follow my advice Silvander; let me die alone, reſerve the remainder of your dayes for actions that will be glorious unto you: and reſtore him back unto Diana, for who I know her ſoul has ſent forth a thouſand ſighes of love; whatſoever you make conjecture, I am fully perſwaded but ſhe has done ſome violence to keep her ſelf from falling into the power of Paris: and the condition wherin now ſhe is, me thinks is a ſtrong argument that the marriage is not conſummated; For why ſhould ſhe come with Aſtrea unto a place ſo little frequented ſince the inchantment of the fountain, but only to conceall her ſelf from Bellinde for ſome dayes, and to give her time of conſideration how little inclination her Daughter has unto that alliance? alas (ſaid Silvander, and interrupted her) this ſmall abſenting her ſelf, and this ſelf are arguments more ſtrong to confirm me in a beleif that my diſpair is juſt, and that her infidelity is true; For may I not well think that this ungratefull woman did abſent her ſelf, to kindle the flames of Paris the more, and that this ſleep is part of that reſt which my rivall would have ſtoln from her the firſt night, by his carreſſes? oh what diſmal cauſes of jealouſy do I find? and how this paſſion tranſports me into fury? Can you think it juſt, Celadon, that I ſhould live to be a witneſs of all thoſe kiſſes which this husband will gather from thoſe lippes which have pronounced the ſentence of my death, and his happines? Do you not think that thoſe favours which this fickle one publiquely conferres upon him as innocent as they are yet, do not appear unto me moſt horrid crimes? alas you do not love aright if you think they are not enough to kill me: aſſure your ſelf every look ſhe caſts upon him is a dagger to my heart; No no ſhepherd, I had better let them alone, to enjoy their delights freely: my preſence will but diſturbe them, every thing does invite me unto this deſign more then you, who has no legall warrant to authoriſe the reſolution which you have taken but only the bare paſſionate humour of Aſtrea, which perhaps has made her weep a thouſand times ſince, and repent ſhe ere concealed from you the good, though ſecret, acceptance ſhe had of all your ſervices; Therefore dear Celadon if my prayers have any prevalence with you, I beſeech you let me only run this adventure: it is a faithfull lover who ought to die: do not diſpute the matter any longer with me; And pardon me, if I ſay out of the knowledge I have of my love, and humour, that it is moſt impoſſible to find one man in the whole world who can excell me. In ſaying ſo, he embraced Celadon, and conjured him again to let him obtain this favour which he required: but Celadon ſeeming ill ſatisfied with his requeſt, truly Silvander (anſwered he) you do reſemble him who received as a ſharer only in a treaſure, yet will needs become the ſole maſter of it, and drive out him who firſt admitted him only at a ſharing Companion in his fortune; It was I who firſt deſigned this diſenchantment by giving my life, and now I have communicated my deſign unto you, it is you that would hinder me from the execution of it, and would your ſelf take all that glory which the gods reſerved only for me. Dear Celadon (ſaid Silvander, and interrupted him) do not blame me for deſiring to take that advantage from you, which will procure you a far greater; I mean the enjoyment of Aſtrea; I dare ſwear that fair ſhepherdeſſe would think your preſence at this hower her greateſt happineſs; Take my advice Celadon, preſent your ſelf before her once more & if ſhe do not forbid you to die, I will confeſs my ſelf injurious in adviſing you to live. Nay (anſwered Alexis) that cruell one ſhall never have the pleaſure of condemning me the ſecond time. I know what obedience I owe unto all her commands, and will not put her to ſo [Page] much pains as to pronounce them often. But as for you Silvander, live, and live for Diana, ſince you know ſhe deſires it, and did never command the contrary: all the arguments, perſwaſions, and reaſons, that you can poſſibly deviſe, can never alter me from that reſolution which I am fixed upon to die, by the mortal claws of theſe furious Lions, which cannot be ſo cruel, but will leave me ſo much time as they are tearing me in pieces, as to remember that Aſtrea is more pittileſs.

Theſe laſt words ſtole ſome tears from the eyes of Alexis, who ſeeing how contrary her end was unto thoſe ſweet hopes which ſhe had conceived in the beginning of her affection, her heart could not chuſe but melt at the memory of thoſe kind promiſes which Astrea once made unto her: and Silvander, who alſo had the ſame conſiderations, he began to embrace Alexis, and ſaw thoſe tears which dropped from her eyes: they embraced each other a long while, and perhaps had done longer, if Alexis, who alwayes looked towards Astrea, had not eſpied a great company coming towards them: he preſently advertiſed Silvander of it, and both looking earneſtly at them, it was not long before they ſaw it was Adamas, Belinde, and Phillis; but Silvander knew not Galathea, Roſanira, nor the reſt of the Nymphs, becauſe of the change in their habits. Fearing then, that if the Druide ſaw them, he would hinder them in their deſigne: Come, come, dear Silvander (ſaid Alexis and roſe up haſtily) let us not diſpute any longer upon this point, let us go and ſee to which of us the gods will judge the price of fidelity; and ſince they only can decide our difference, it is folly to conſult upon it any longer here.

Upon this, ſhe went towards the Fountain, and Silvander following her, if it happen (ſaid he) that we both die, we ſhall have this advantage at the leaſt, to ſhut up in one Tombe two friends, who have almoſt the very ſame Fates in their loves, would ſuffer the ſame deaths. In ſaying ſo, they were come ſo near the Lions, that thoſe fierce Animals heard them, and looked upon them with moſt affrighting looks; but the Shepherds were ſo far from any ſignes of fear, that there was a freſh vermilion in their cheeks: and as if an horrid object were an object of joy and felicity, they began to ſmile, and to ſhew, that their courages were not leſſe then the Ferocity of thoſe mercileſſe Guardians. Alexis, who came thither only to die, and not to fight, did at the firſt prepare her ſelf to receive their cruelty: whilſt the Lions, at the ſight of this new prey, did beat their ſides and the ground with their tails, and were rowſing up anger enough to devour theſe Lovers, ſhe kneeled down upon the ground, and looking up to heaven, O ye merciful gods (ſaid ſhe) who have inſpired me with this remedy to keep my miſeries from being infinite, as is your power; accept, I beſeech you, of this ſacrifice which I offer unto you of my body, and I would ſay of my ſoul alſo, did you not know that it is ſtill a captive in the charms of the faireſt, but moſt ungrateful Shepherdeſs that ever was; even for pities ſake, O moſt puiſſant Divinities, let my death ſatisfie you for all her injuries: and as great as her crimes are which ſhe hath committed againſt Love, for my ſake ceaſe your reſentments of them; and let that cauſe which moved her to deſire my death, be a motive unto you to prolong her happineſs and life.

Alexis had no ſooner ended her prayer, but Silvander began: O ye pittileſſe Deſtinies, cryed he out, who by irrevocable Laws have ordained I ſhould ſpend my miſerable dayes, in all the afflictions which any ſoul is capable to reſent, now, I beſeech you, ſee your own doom executed. As you have ſpoke all truth, concerning the miſeries that menaced my life, be you as true alſo in what you have ſpoken concerning my death: In ſaying ſo, he opened his breſt, and joyfully prepared himſelf to receive thoſe wounds, which would let out his ſoul with his blood: he ſaw the Lions approaching towards them with eyes that ſparkled fire, and lifting up their paws, they ſhewed their crooked claws, whoſe points were as ſharp as any needles.

In the mean while Adamas and the reſt, were come within fourſcore or a hundred paces of Aſtrea and Diana: The two Shepherdeſſes waked at the ſame time, and were ſo affrighted to ſee the two Unicorns ſo near them, that they never [Page] looked towards the place where Licidas was, with Thamires, Celidea, Doris, Adraſtes, and the reſt, nor towards the place where Galathea and Roſanira were with Adamas and Belinde: All they could do in that amazement, or rather that affright, was to offer themſelves unto thoſe Animals, as thinking they came thither only to devour them: but ſeeing them upon a ſudden to run towards the Fountain, they thought that it was there only where they were to die, and that the Unicorns did only ſhew them the way. Aſtrea and Diana therefore ran after them, and were no ſooner come to the place where Alexis and Silvander were expecting their deaths, but they ſaw thoſe two Shepherds upon their knees, within ten paces of them, and the Lions, with enraged fury, ready to tear them in pieces. This encounter did extreamly ſurprize them; but having no time to conſider what to do, they followed the firſt ſuggeſtion of their paſſion, and ſtepping betwixt them, it is we that are to die (ſaid they) and not thoſe Shepherds, who are not culpable of any crime.

Alexis and Silvander, raviſhed at this ſpectacle, and fearing leſt thoſe Shepherdeſſes ſhould receive ſome harm, they fell upon the Lions, and began to fight with them more for the intereſt of their Miſtreſſes, then their own preſervation; but being without any arms, they were quickly thrown down, and the two Unicorns, as taking their parts, came at the very ſame inſtant, and falling upon the Lions, there began a moſt ſharp combat betwixt them. Adamas, Belinde, and the reſt, who ſaw Aſtrea and Diana go away, did follow them, but they came not time enough, for the combate was almoſt ended: the heavens, which before were clear and ſerene, was now all cloudy; and the Sun was ſo obſcured, as if the world were to periſh in horrid darkneſs. The fields, which with variety of flowers uſed to render us moſt fragrant odour, now loſt that ſweetneſſe, and ſtunk of ſulphure: No light was to be ſeen but that of lightning, with ſuch horrid claps of thunder, which ſpeaking the anger of the gods, it is eaſie to be be believed, that they intend [...]d to deſtroy the world, and reduce it unto the confuſion of its firſt Chaos.

This made the moſt courageous to be ſenſible of fear: Adamas himſelf in this diſorder, who by his profeſſion had learned to reſign himſelf unto the will of the ſupream powers, did wonder, and was amazed when the earth trembled under him. Often did he offer to ſpeak, but the horrible claps of thunder put him out of all hopes to be heard; and when he would have looked upon thoſe who were in his company, he found the uſe of his ſight as much hindred as his ſpeech. Sometimes he wiſhed they were all in his houſe, for a ſhelter againſt thoſe ſtorms that menaced them; but when he conſidered, that ſuch bluſtering ſtorms were able to throw down the ſtrongeſt buildings, he condemned his firſt wiſh, and found it unjuſt, becauſe the moſt ſecret places were open to the knowledge of the gods, and there was no place that could ſhelter a mortal from the anger of the Dieties.

Galathea and Roſanira wiſhed a thouſand times, that their journey were to begin again: but as great as their fears were, their loves had made ſo deep an impreſſion in their memories, that in lieu of having recourſe unto the mercy of heaven, they never ceaſed invoking Roſilion and Lindamor as their Divinities. Belinde, thinking Diana was dead, was ready to wiſh for her own: giving her ſelf therefore over unto grief, ſhe laid her ſelf all along upon the ground, leaning her head upon her two arms which lay acroſſe, not daring to lift up her eyes to heaven, becauſe ſhe thought it her moſt mortal enemy; ah Diana (ſaid ſhe to her ſelf) how dear does thy indiſcretion coſt us? Thy fault has louly offended the gods, ſince they take ſo great revenge. Immortal Dieties (continued ſhe) whoſe juſtice does exceed your pity: if puniſhment be inſeparable from the crime which this woman has committed, why did you not inflict only upon me? Was not a Victime able to appeaſe you? had not I blood enough to waſh away the crime? O moſt cruel! you have deſpiſed that blood which I would moſt willingly have ſhed for the ſafety of this ſinner: and to ſhew how odious the diſobedience of children is unto you, you have puniſhed her with ſo much ſeverity, as renders your anger remarkable unto all poſterity.

[Page]Upon this thought, Belinde fell into a flood of tears; and Adamas, who was already upon his knees to pacifie the anger of the gods by his prayers, caſting his eye accidentally towards the place where ſhe was; a flaſh of lightning, made ſo much light at the very ſame time as he could plainly ſee in what condition ſhe was: ſeeing her [...]hen lie all along upon the ground, and thinking her killed by ſome clap of thunder, ſuch a ſorrow ſeized upon him, as he became almoſt ſenſleſſe. He went unto her as near as poſſibly he could, and as if he would make her hear, maugre the thunder, alas (ſage Belinde cried be out as loud as he could) what infortunate accident was it that ſeparated us? and why ſhould it be mortal unto you and not unto me? Belinde did hear the voice of the Druide, but ſhe could not diſtinguiſh his words: and Galathea, who was not far off, hearing confuſedly the words: Belinde, and mortal, ſhe thought her and all, but dead people: Roſanira, who held her by the arm believed the ſame, and their opinions paſſing unto Dorinde, it went from one to another till it came to Hylas, who knowing no reaſon why he ſhould bear the puniſhment of anothers fault, he wi [...]hed himſelf heartily in Carmagues, although it were upon the condition of never ſeeing Stella again or any of the Shepherdeſſes, unto whom he had any inclination; But when they were all in the deepeſt apprehenſion and belief of this danger, the lightning and thunder upon a ſudden ceaſed, but not the darkneſs, for it remained as obſcure as before: And in this diſmal ſilence, none durſt begin to ſpeak, for every one thinking themſelves the only one alive, were afraid to incur the ſame misfortune. In fine, the darkneſſe began to diſſipate by little and little; the Sun gave light to the world again, flowers aſſumed their fragrancy, and trees gave ſhadows again.

Adamas was very glad to ſee this hidious ſtorm ceaſed, and the Sun to break through all theſe dusky clouds; but his joyes to ſee Belinde alive, ſurpaſſed all other contentments: ſo as he went to embrace her and acquaint her with his fears. Yet Belinde, ſtill thinking upon the loſs of Diana; and not thinking the fairneſs of the day any comfort unto her, ſhe told him that heaven would have obliged her, if out of pity it had ſuffered her to follow the Fate of her daughter: The life (ſaid ſhe) which it has left me, and for which you ſeem ſo much joyed, is a moſt intollerable burthen unto me, ſince my Deſtiny will not let it be accompanied with thoſe comforts which I expected from the virtue of Diana. Upon this, Belinde began to grieve again: and Roſanira, Galathea, Silvia, and the reſt coming unto her, every one endeavoured to give ſome comfort unto her; but her grief was too great to be ſo eaſily allayed, eſpecially by ſuch weak remedies as words. She therefore giving no intermiſſion into her tears and ſighs, they all reſolved to refer her cure unto time; and in the interim they obſerved that the clouds wherewith the air was obſcured for a time were all gathered together over the Fountain, from whence all this enchantment proceeded. This obſcurity made it in [...]cceſſible▪ and Belinde, who extreamly deſired to give up her ſoul upon the cold and pale lips of her daughter, and ſeeing this obſtacle was unto her deſire. Wilt thou not. O pitileſſe heaven, give my misfortunes ſo weak a comfort, as to ſee the marks of thy cruelty upon the body of my daughter? O ye Deſtinies, whoſe rigour has raviſhed her from me, are ye more deaf then trees and rocks? Hearken, I beſeech you, vnto the prayers of a wronged mother, and render her unto me, for one hour only, who ought to be mine all her life: I do ask you nothing but what belongs unto me: The ſoul of Diana is indeed the gods, and they may take it when they pleaſe; but her body is abſolutely mine, I would have it, and without extream in juſtice you cannot deny it unto me. In ſaying this, ſhe had her eyes ſtill towards the Fountain. Adamas and the reſt, after her example they looked upon the thick darkneſs which overſhaded it, out of which one might often ſee proceed a thick ſmoak, as from ſome great combuſtion, and ſometimes a blue flame, like unto that of Sulphure and Aqua vit [...] fined.

After they had gazed a while upon thoſe Prodigies, they perceived, that with this ſmoak many of the clouds were diſſipated▪ which gave ſome good hopes unto the Druide: and Belinde, who thought now to have light enough to find either [Page] her Daughter, or the Lions that had devoured her; ſhe advanced as near the fountain as ſhe could: But Adamas, pulling her back to look upon ſomething which he had obſerved, they perceived that all the thick darkneſs which remained was riſen a yeard from the ground: thinking therefore that it alſo would vaniſh as the reſt did they reſolved to ſtay a while; and then upon a ſuddain they perceived in the midſt of this obſcurity, a cupid full of ſhining brightneſs, who riſing up by little and little, ſeated himſelf upon the top of a Piramide of Porpherye. At the ſight of this god, all fell down upon their knees: and when Adamas, Bellinde and the reſt were in their height of admiration at this, ſo little expected novelty, they ſaw that he held in one of his hands a table of black marble wherin were written theſe words in capitall Letters.

Be not Amazed nor murmure at theſe miracles

But cauſe theſe bodies to be caryed away

And tomorrow come, and conſult with my Oracles.

They no ſooner knew the will of this god of love, but this god did throw himſelf unto the fountain, and left no markes of himſelf but immediatly all the clouds vaniſhed, no darkneſs remained, only ſo much as hindred from looking into the water. Bellinde, raviſhed with joy at this permiſſion, ſhe loſt not a munite of time, but paſſing cloſe by the Unicornes and Lyons, ſhe went ſtraight to the place where Aſtrea, and her Daughter lay upon the ground ſeeming as if they had given up their laſt breath. Adamas after he had bidden Paris to go, and fetch the coach, that he might obey the commands of the god of love he followed Bellinde, and was all amazement to ſee that theſe four beaſts had no motion in them, and this gave him ſo much boldneſs as to approach nearer them: but then, he found them abſolutly imoveable indeed: And indeed, by the power of this great inchantor, whó firſt placed them for guards of the fountain, they were all turned into four figures of marble, yet ſtill retaining their ſhapes, and coulours? As ſoon as all the Company was advertiſed of it, and come near to be witneſſes of this miraculous metamorphoſis, they were all ſeiſed with incredible aſtoniſhment but yet not comparable to that which they reſented, when in lieu of two corpſes which they expected to find their, they perceived four, two of which were known to be Alexis, and Silvander. In the mean while Bellinde would needs embrace the body of Diana, and finding it without any pulſe or motion, ſhe fell into ſuch extreames of greif as was able to move deaf death it ſelf: Phillis, ſhe ran unto the body of Astrea, and Lycidas being gone to that of his brother, the Druid went unto the body of Silvander; They thought to have found them full of wounds, and torne in peices by the Lyons; but they did not find ſo much as one drope of blood upon them which made them think they were only ſtifled by the weight of thoſe furious animals. Galathea who at that inſtant remembred thoſe flames which Celadon had kindled in her ſoul, ſhe could not chuſe but be ſo ſenſible as to ſhed ſome teares; Roſanira and the reſt, after her example, much greived to ſee all things in ſuch a ſad diſorder: and certainly they had no ſouls that would not be moved unto Compaſſion by ſuch ſad ſpectacles, eſpecially by the lamentations of Bellinde; For that ſadly afflicted mother tearing her hair, and ſcratching her face: ah my Diana (ſaid ſhe) art thou dead, all cold as ice? what? my dear child not one look? Ingratefull child, or rather ungratefull deſtines who have raviſhed her from me, is it not juſt my hopes ſhould have a more happy ſucceſs? Such were the complaints of Bellinde whilſt Lycidas whoſe complaints were no leſs: who in the reſentment of his ſorrowes, did taxe heaven with all the injuries he ever received: he called it a hundred times cruell, unjuſt and Barbarous; and ſtill harping upon the rigour of Aſtrea, he ſeemed angry with Phillis, for the aſſiſtance which ſhe gave unto that ſhepherdeſs. But this did not hinder Phillis from continuing all her endeavours to help her, or at the leaſt bidding her a laſt adieu. Yet ſeeing all her teares were in vaine, and that Aſtrea could neither ſee nor hear her: Oh Lycidas (cryed ſhe) how cruelly are you revenged: in ſaying ſo, ſorrowes did ſo ſeiſe upon her, that ſhe fell down to the ground, [Page] and remained as in a ſwound upon the body of he [...] Companion. This did a little trouble Lycidas: for being poiſed betwixt love and amity, he knew not whether or no he ſhould leave his brother to go, and help Phillis; and doubtleſs if he had found any armes wherewith to have killed himſelf, he had followed his firſt apprehenſions which prompted him to give that remedy unto all his miſeryes: but having nothing wherewith he could hurt himſelf, he was forced, whether he would or no to live, and be a witneſs of the accidents that were to happen. He was ſtill grieving that he could not die, when he heard Adamas command every one to make themſelves ready to put the corpes of Aſtrea, Diana, Alexis, and Silvander into the coach: which was quickly done by the aſſiſtance of ſeverall ſhepherds who came in to ſee this ſpectacle: And as ſoon as they all came unto the Druides houſe, Aſtrea, and Diana were laid in one Chamber; and Alexis, and Silvander in another. The news of this accident was quickly ſpred throughout all Forreſts, and Amaſis was ſoon advertiſed of it; who having writ the news of it unto Roſilion and Lindamor, ſhe left Moutbriſon, and came to her Palace of Iſoures, where ſhe intended to entertain Roſanira, it being the moſt pleaſant Place for diverſion.

The Sequell of the Hiſtory of TIRCIS, and LAONICE.

IN the mean time Tircis, ſince the time he left the houſe of Adamas, or to ſay better, all the ſhepherds and ſhepherdeſſes of Lignon, he had a fate that was very ſtrange. For that ſad ſhepherd, who as I told you before parted from Silvander, he no ſooner ſaw himſelf out of that ſhepherds preſence, but lifting up his eyes to heaven: Now, great gods (ſaid he) I can ſay that I am at liberty, and that I can without conſtraint pay unto my deareſt Cleon, thoſe teſtimonies of my love which ſhe may as tribute expect from me: my teares and my ſighes will not have no beholders that can condemn them: but on the contrary, the winds will help me to lament the loſs of ſo fair a Miſtreſſe. As he ſaid this, he walked ſtill on untill he came unto the bridge of Boutereſs, there he ſtayed upon the midſt of it: and from thence he beheld thoſe places, where he had reſided, and bad them for ever adieu. Upon this ſubject, theſe thoughts preſented him with a thouſand imaginations, whereof ſome begot a ſorrow in his ſoul, that he was to leave a habitation, where ſo many lovely ſhepherdeſſes did ſo ſweetly paſs away there dayes: and other imaginations did comfort him with this, That ſince the death of his deereſt Cleon, he was obliged to renounce all the delights of life. This laſt conſideration being ſtronger then the firſt, he continued on his voyage: and he was no ſooner ſome two or three hundred paces from the bridge, but as if ſome ſecret violence had ſtayed him, he ſtopped; and once more turning his face towards the Town where Aſtrea, Diana, and Phillis dwelt: I do not wonder (ſaid he to himſef) I ſhould be ſo loath to part from thoſe groves, where the juſtice of Silvander, and the eloquence of Phillis, did deliver me from the importunities of Laonice: that only were enough to oblige me never to be abſent from them, if my griefs, which make me weariſome to all the world, did not perſwade me, that I ſhall do them a good office in taking from their preſence, an afflicted perſon, whoſe converſation is intolerable. But (continued he) I do not conſider, that thinking not to ſeparate my ſelf from them, I diſtance my ſelf farther from the place, where her ſacred duſt does reſt, who was once my very life. Ah Tircis, Tircis, the moſt miſerable of all thoſe that ever loved. Since thou art obliged to take thy delights in that which is the puniſhment of others: Alas, were it not better for thee to go, and once more view thoſe ſacred reliques, and ſhed ſuch a flood of teares upon the grave of Cleon, as drowning thy ſelf, and misfortunes in them, thou mayeſt obtain the glory to be incloſed in the ſame ſepulcher.

[Page]He had no ſooner uttered theſe words, but reſolving with himſelf to return unto the banks of Arar, he turned back again, and when he was upon the bridge of Boubereſs. But why, ſaid he, ſhould I go and ſeek the body of Cleon, as long as I carry her ſoul with me? and why ſhould I go viſit her aſhes, as long as I retain thoſe very flames in my heart, which ſhe kindled towards me? No, no, (continued he) go on in thy firſt deſign: Go Tircis and loſe thy ſelf in the horrours of ſome dreadful Defart, where the air, the earth, ſolitude, and affrighting ſhades, will take away from me that life which is odious unto every one, and intollerable to my ſelf.

Upon this laſt reſolution, he looked towards Mount-briſon, and loſing all thoughts of returning to Lions, he prepared himſelf for the woods and Forreſts which cover the mountain of Iſoures, and there ſeek ſome contentment to his melancholly humour. He did not know that Laonice was already retired thither; for doubtleſs, had he had the leaſt thought of that, he would never have wended that way; but fancying to find that ſolitude and liberty of life which he deſired, he reſolved upon it: and without more diſpute with himſelf, he went to take up his lodging almoſt upon the very top of all the mountain. There ſeeing himſelf ſomething nearer heaven, he conceived himſelf ſomething nearer Cleon: and not imagining he could ever be diverted from that ſolitude which ſeemed already ſo ſweet and pleaſing unto him, he reſolved to paſſe away in quietneſſe that little time which he had to live. For the firſt and ſecond dayes he did nothing elſe but contemplate upon Cleon, who was freſh in his memory; and having none to impart his ſorrows unto, the rocks and the trees became the confidents of his ſecrets; unto the one he related every particular accident that befell him, ever ſince he firſt loved her; and upon the bark of the other he engraved the name of Cleon: but imagining, that without a grand crime he could not ſeparate that ſacred name; and the name of Tircis aſunder, he engraved it alſo. Sometimes loadned with ſome fruits which he had gathered, he would go unto a little rivolet, which falling down into the plain, does water ſome pleaſant meadows, and afterwards empties it ſelf into Lignon; and there contemplating upon the cataracts, and great falls of this water: This (ſaid he to himſelf) has a great reſemblance unto my misfortune. Heaven would never let me take any reſt, and if ever I hope for it, ſurely it will be when I am ready to enter into my grave, like to this little rivolet, which is never in quietneſs until it has loſt it ſelf in Lignon, which is its grave.

In ſuch kind of ſolitary entertainments he paſſed away the day; after which he went unto his ſad habitation, and never ſtirred from thence, until the Sun had dried up the tears of Aurora: he had met with a cave not much unlike that of Laonices, which was not far off; probably theſe caves were made by other hands then thoſe of Nature; and the Druides, in the infancy of Religion not being much converſant amongſt men, made choice of theſe retreats ſo near each other, as they might meet and confer about matters of Religion. It hapned, that the third day after Tircis came thither, that he began his cuſtomary exerciſe, and went out of his cave, as ſoon as the Sun had cleared the day; but not wending his courſe towards that little rivolet, he paſſed away almoſt all the day in contemplating the beauties of that place, which he had choſen for his laſt reſidence. On the one ſide he viewed all the Forreſts, and ſaw as far as the fartheſt part of the Sebuſians: and on the other ſide, his proſpect reached as far as that ſtately city, which the Rhoſne and the Arrar do waſh with their cryſtal ſtreams. Sometimes he admired the talneſs of the trees, whoſe leavy branches did ſhade him from the ſcorching heat of the Sun: Otherwhiles looking upon the ground, in which his eyes took deep root, he was aſtoniſhed to ſee it ſo clean and neat, and ſo even, that there was not ſo much as one ſhrub to hinder his walk. Being thus taken up in theſe little raviſhments, he took no notice that night ſurprized him: So as being a good diſtance from his cave, and not well knowing the paſſages, the night alſo growing dark, he could not hit the way unto his habitation. He laid him down therefore under the firſt tree he came unto, where it was long before ſleep came upon him: yet at laſt, after he had ſpent a good part of the [Page] night in his ordinary contemplations, his wearied limbs received that pleaſing refreſhment.

Laonice on the other ſide, who thought that help which the gods had promiſed unto her, long in coming, ſhe wakened very early, to go according to her cuſtome, and talk of her ſorrows unto the flowers and the winds: yet ſhe walked not long before ſhe found ſome engravements upon the barks of trees, which being freſhly done, did eaſily diſcover themſelves. She went preſently unto them; and her thoughts being alwayes upon Tircis, as Tircis was upon Cleon, jealouſie, which opened her eyes and judgement, made her know that there they were both together. This did extreamly aſtoniſh her; and not being able to imagine what Demon it ſhould be that did her this ill office, ſhe was more and more amazed: and to compleat her amazement, ſhe perceived Tircis himſelf lying all along under an oak, ſome ten or twelve paces from the place where ſhe was. Amidſt her joyes to ſee him, ſhe was ſeized with an extream fear to appear before him; becauſe at that inſtant, all the contempts, ſlights, and rigours, of that Shepherd againſt her, did come into her memory. Remembring then principally his laſt words, as being the moſt bitter that ever his tongue uttered againſt her: This Shepherd (ſaid ſhe to her ſelf) does meaſure his hatred according to my love, and takes delight in ſeeing both extream: he thinks he has baniſhed me out of Forreſts, and perhaps would drive me out of the world, if he ſhould ſee me again: I will not therefore ſhew my ſelf unto him; but, ſaid ſhe upon a ſudden, why ſhould the gods promiſe me a cure, unleſſe that Tircis be the remedy? Perhaps thoſe kind Dieties have diſpoſed his ſpirit to pardon me, and his ſoul to receive me in lieu of her, for whoſe love he rejected me. Upon this conſideration, ſhe went gently nearer him, and finding his eyes cloſed: I with, O love (ſaid ſhe) that his heart were not as faſt aſleep towards me: permit, O heavens, that the deſires of this Shepherd may not any longer be contrary to my happineſſe, but that my ſoul may ſhare with him in that reſt which his body now enjoyes: In ſaying ſo, ſhe obſerved, that the Sun made ſo much entrance through the leaves, as with his Rayes to kiſſe him: whereat ſhe appearing a little jealous, ſhe kneeled down: Thoſe kiſſes, lovely Tircis (ſaid ſhe) would be better imployed, if thou wouldſt give them unto me in recompence of thoſe miſeries which thy cruelty hath made me ſuffer; Why, why? is my paſſion ſo full of crime, as it takes away from thee all deſires of enjoying me? O good gods (continued ſhe and ſighed) can loving thee perfectly merit thy hatred? this is moſt cruel and barbarous: Upon this, ſhe bended her ſelf to kiſſe him; but fearing to waken him, ſhe aroſe up without ſtealing that contentment: yet wondering at her want of courage; but why (ſaid ſhe) ſhould I not have as much courage as love? Alas (continued ſhe) what could this Shepherd do if he were awake, if he can make himſelf thus feared when he is in the arms of death, or at leaſt of ſleep, which is the image of death? Upon theſe laſt words ſhe ſtopt, and Tircis began to groan; at which Laonice was ſo ſurprized, that ſhe got further off, leſt he ſhould perceive her: yet hiding her ſelf behind a great tree, ſome twelve or fifteen paces from him, ſhe put forth her head as ſoftly as ſhe could, and obſerving that he ſtill ſlept: Perhaps (ſaid ſhe) he was not aſleep when [...] ſpoke and when he groaned it was out of compaſſion; but if ſo, why then ſhould he ſleep on? and why does he not give unto my paſſion better teſtimonies of his? No, no, Laonice (ſaid ſhe) never flatter thy ſelf with theſe pleaſing imaginations: Tircis does hate thee as much as he loves Cleon: he does abhor thy memory, as much as he does adore hers; and thou mayeſt well believe, that if he would die for the love of her, he will never live for any love of thee. Upon this ſhe would have gone away, but caſting her eye once more upon Tircis, ſhe ſaw him awake, ſtretching out his arms, and rubbing his eyes: This made her lurk cloſe behind the tree, & make no noiſe; and by Fortune, the Shepherd riſing up, and ſeeing the Sun a good hight, he went the other way, thinking upon nothing elſe, but how to find out his cave.

Laonice ſeeing him go away, ſhe felt no leſſe pain then if her heart had been pulling out; and never thinking what ſhe did, nor loſing the ſight of this Shepherd, ſhe followed him from tree to tree, until he found what he ſought for; and [Page] it was not long firſt: for he found the little Rivolet, unto which he paying his tribute of a few teares, he preſently after went ſtraight to his cave. As ſoon as he came their he entred in: and as ſoon as Laonice loſt the ſight of him, ſhe doubled her pace, and without any feares of being ſeen, ſhe got as near the mouth of it as ſhe could, and there lending a moſt liſtning ear to hear what the deſignes of Tircis might be, ſhe heard him ſay; Dear habitation which may cover me from the injuries of heaven, as thou doſt from the importunities of Laonice; Pardon me, for having loſt my way in the confuſion of my thoughts, I abſented my ſelf from thee a whole night. Into what a lamentable dump did theſe words ſtrike Laonice: ſhe was even ready to run out of her wits, and now ſeeing all her ſweet hopes blaſted, ſhe was even ready to die. Yet hearing Tircis ſay ſomething elſe, ſhe wiſhed for life only to hear him, and therefore heard him proceed thus: But dear cave, if thou wilt make me the moſt happy man that ever was, I beſeech thee let me live no longer; to kill another would be Barbariſme, but to kill Tircis, charity. If becauſe thou knoweſt not the diſmall ſucceſſes of my diſaſterous life thou beeſt ignorant of the cauſe I have to wiſh for death; Know, dear Cell. That I did love Cleon: That her death did ſeperate me from her, and that my death is the only was to reunite us: upon this he was ſilent, and becauſe he continued ſo long, Laonice thought that his teares had drownded his ſpeech, or that perhaps he was kiſſing the rock in which he was ſhut: Needing therefore to hear no more: ſhe retired her ſelf the moſt ſadly afflicted woman in the world, only ſhe received a little poor conſolation when ſhe conſidered that ſince he intended to inhabite no where elſe but there, ſhe might often have the pleaſure of ſeeing, and hearing him. So leaving him in his Cell, ſhe returned to her own, out of which ſhe durſt not ſtir all the day. Tircis did not ſo; for after he had ſighed a while in his little Grotto he went out; but durſt not go far, leaſt he ſhould loſe himſelf as he did the day before: he ſate him down under a ſhady tree: and there he pulled out of his pocket, all the favours, and Letters which formerly he had received from Cleon: and reading then one after another, all the paſſages of his love came ſo freſh into his memory, as at that inſtant he fancied her to be yet alive: but this pleaſing imagination laſting no longer then the time he imployed in reading them, he had no ſooner ended, but his ſorrowes began again. Thus having kiſſed them, and lapped all thoſe dear Letters in a bag which he called his treaſury, he roſe up, and walked up and down till night invited him unto his Cave.

Laonice did not ſpend the day ſo: for ſhe durſt not ſtir out of hers, leaſt if Tircis ſhould, it would make him quit his habitation for ever; which he had choſen for the tranquility of his laſt dayes: yet not being able to leave thinking upon him, ſhe never leſt contriving out ſome way or other which might in ſome meaſure allay that irreconcilable hatred which was in the ſoul of this ſhepherd towards her. Amongſt all her thoughts which moſt touched her to the quick, the Oracle which ſhe had received, held the prime place: ſo as continually thinking upon it; But if the gods (ſaid ſhe) have promiſed a kind remedy unto my paſſion, is it not moſt juſt I ſhould hope well in their goodneſs: and if I may hope why may I not think upon ſuch meanes as may obtain it; a ghoſt (did thy tell me) muſt be the remedy unto my affliction; but what ghoſt can this be? It cannot be the ghoſt of Tircis. For if Tircis were only a ghoſt, my miſery in lieu of being leſs, would be extream; I value his life at ſuch a rate of love, as if any fatal accident ſhould raviſh it away, I ſhould conſpire againſt my own; It cannot therefore be Cleons: for the dead do either know the actions of this life, or elſe they do not know them: if they do know them, then it is impoſſible but the ſoul of that fair one muſt rejoyce to ſee Tircis continue his love, and fidelity unto her. So as it is in vain to expect any aſſiſtance from her, ſince it concernes her intereſt rather to prejudice then to help me. If the dead do not know what we of this life do, why ſhould I look for any help from a place where oblivion raignes with ſo much Empire? No no Laonice, thy miſeryes muſt be eternall: and thou mayeſt think that if the gods had any mind to put a period unto them, they would have inſpired thee with ſome invention more eaſy. But (ſaid ſhe) is it not a beginning of happineſs, that Tircis is brought ſo near me? Has not the world other deſerts? [Page] Forreſts it ſelf has other woods vvhere this ſhepherd might have found his ſolitude, if ſome kind Demon had not brought him hither to caſe thee:

Upon this thought ſhe opened the table book where we had written down the Oracle that concerned her: and having read it over ſeverall times; The gods (ſaid ſhe) do aſſure that if Laonice be firm in her affection, the heavens will ſend a remedy unto her paſſion; Does this remedy depend upon the affection of Laonice, or upon Laonice her ſelf, or upon the ghoſt? or are not Laonice, and the ghoſt one and the ſame thing? Upon this ſhe ſtopt; and falling into a moſt profound ſtudy, as if ſhe had ſome deep deſign in her head: come what will on [...] (ſaid ſhe upon a ſuddain) I will venture an undoeing, it is credible the gods would never have put it into my mind unleſs they did intend it ſhould take effect. She ſpent all the reſt of the day upon this thought, and as ſoon as night came, ſhe went out of her Cell, unto that of Tircis. All the way ſhe went ſhe was ravelled with a thouſand irreſolutions, and her feares not to bring her enterpriſe to paſs, made find her almoſt an impoſſibility in thoſe things that were moſt eaſie. Sometimes ſhe conceited that to get the love of Tircis by fallacies was the way not to keep it long; otherwhiles ſhe perſwaded her ſelf that he would know her voice, or that when the Moon ſhined, it would diſcover that ſecret which ſhe would not truſt unto any thing but darkneſs. But when ſhe remembred, that in love all ſubtilties even the fits are allowed, and began to think he could hardly know her voice, alſo that the Moon might perhaps not ſhine into his Cell, ſhe took a little courage, and kept to her firſt reſolution. Her greateſt fear was to meet him out of his cave: for no other place but it, could be favorable unto her deſign; And therefore as ſhe went thither ſhe looked about her very circumſpectly on all ſides to ſee whither ſhe could ſpy him, and ſeeing nothing of him, ſhe came in the midſt of the night unto the ſame place where ſhe had lodged him a little before: at the firſt, ſtanding ſtill at the mouth of the cave, ſhe liſtned with her ear to hear whether or no, he was a ſleep; with ſhe was no ſooner aſſured off, but recommending her ſelf unto love, and to the god of ſleep and dreames, ſhe began to name Tircis, three times: at that name, the ſhepherd half wakned, and fetching a deep ſigh he turned towards Laonice, who began to hope well, in her deſign; Know Tircis (continued ſhe in the ſame tone) that I do come from the gods to command thee, that thou ceaſe thy unjuſt hatred againſt the beauty of Laonice: her love ought to be the ſole object of all thy deſires upon paine to incur the wrath, and anger of that diety who commands it: and that thou mayeſt more clearly know, that this is the will of the ſupream powers, be aſſured that to morrow thou ſhalt find this ſhepherdeſs near unto this place ſo diſpoſed to pardon all thy rigours, as thou oughteſt to repent of them. Faile not therefore to comply with her: never fear offending Cleon, ſince it is ſhe her ſelf who brings this command unto thee. Upon this Laonice retired, and Tircis who at the name of Cleon began to open his eyes, he had ſo much time only as to ſee her vaniſh: For at that inſtant the Moon ſhined ſo clear into his Cell, that the ſhepherd not being able to endure the light, was conſtrained to turn the other way. He had confuſedly heard what Laonice ſaid, and retained the ſence in his memory: but as if he were not well wakned, he fell a ſleep again after he had ſighingly pronounced the name of Cleon twice. Which Laonice diſtinctly heard for ſhe had no ſooner retired her ſelf out of the Cell, but ſhe liſtned with her ear at the mouth of the Cave to hear what Tircis ſaid; Being certain then that ſhe was heard ſhe retired her ſelf to her own Cell, and reſted her ſelf as well as ſhe could untill it was day.

Tircis on the other ſide he got up very early: and having nothing more preſent in his thoughts then the love he preſerved for the aſhes of Cleon, it was not long before he fell to muſe upon the paſſage in the night time; at the firſt, he fancied it only a dream: But then remembring what he had heard, he made not doubt but that was a Viſion. Alſo never thinking upon any ſuch fallacy as was put upon him; but infallibly beleiving that it was the ghoſt of Cleon which he ſaw. But deareſt ghoſt (ſaid he with teares in his eyes) is it poſſible thou ſhouldſt be ſo ſoon weary of my ſighes and teares? is that inviolable paſſion I have entertained [Page] with ſuch holy purity, become ſo far troubleſome as to diſpleaſe and anger thee? If in that felicity which thou doſt enjoy; and whereof this great ſplendour which waits upon thee even in the horrours of night, is a moſt undeniable proof unto me: If, I ſay in that happy eſtate it does grieve thee to ſee that I can give but poor and weak teſtimonies of my love: Conſider, I beſeech thee, deareſt Ghoſt, that in this the effects are far different from their cauſe; and theſe poor teſtimonies of my affection, do periſh almoſt in their conceptions, yet my love which produceth them, will laſt to all eternity.

Upon this he was ſilent for a while, and afterwards beginning again: But Cleon (continued he) who is pleaſed to put thee upon things the moſt difficult, does command thee to love Laonice, knowing well thou mighteſt as well attempt an impoſſibility: If thou doſt diſobey her, though it be the firſt fault thou didſt ever commit againſt her, it is a crime no leſſe puniſhable, then if it were committed againſt a Diety. And if thou doſt obey her, who will diſpence with thee for all the vowes and oathes which thou haſt ſo often ſworn, never to have any inclination unto any but only her? Doubtleſs ſhe her ſelf (ſaid he) for as ſhe had ſo much power to make me ſwear them, ſo has ſhe the power to make me break them, after ſuch an abſolute command. Ah deareſt Cleon (ſaid he and reprehended himſelf) how intollerable is this laſt rigour which thou doſt inflict upon me? It were far more juſt to command me to die, then to live with Laonice.

Upon this, he went out of his cave, not to go and ſeek for this Shepherdeſſe, but only to divert himſelf, and to ſee which way he ſhould diſpoſe of himſelf to do as he thought Cleon had commanded him. But as it was impoſſible, that now Laonice ſhould have no room in his thoughts there was not one teſtimony of love which ever ſhe had given him, but it came into his remembrance. And this wrought more effect upon his ſoul, when he conſidered that ſhe continued her love, notwithſtanding all his hatred and diſdain. After this, ſhe being very fair, the remembrance of the features in her face ſeemed to inſpire him with pity; and as often as he thought upon thoſe cruelties wherewith he requited her affection, he was moved unto a kind of repentance: the only thing which did moſt of all retain his anger, was the memory of that revenge which ſhe took upon Silvander and Phillis, thinking ſuch premeditated wickedneſs, and carryed with ſo much art, did argue a trayterous and malitious ſpirit. But as if he would not condemn her without a hearing: yet (ſaid he to himſelf) revenge is ſweet in what mind ſoever it be; and how is it poſſible a weak woman ſhould defend her ſelf againſt it, ſince the greateſt perſons which our Hiſtories mention, found more ado to reſiſt the motions of this paſſion, then to conquer Kingdomes? It were unreasonable to think that Laonice had not her imperfections, as well as other mortals; and perhaps this was it which made Hylas ſay lately unto me, that were he at leaſure, he would make me confeſs that Shepherdeſs was not ſo much to blame as I imagined: Doubtleſs he would have told me, that her reſentment was advantageous to me, and that I was obliged to her, ſince ſhe had made it appear, that in loſing me, ſhe had loſt the only thing that could force her to commit a treaſon. He would have repreſented unto me, that ſhe had imitated thoſe deſperate perſons, who not knowing how to regain that which death or Fortune had taken from them, they would be revenged upon the gods, and break down thoſe Statues which before they had erected unto their honour.

With ſuch, or ſuch like diſcourſe as this, Tircis entertained himſelf: Sometimes condemning the ſubtilties of Laonice, and otherwhiles excuſing them; and ſometimes condemning himſelf for being the principal Authour of the evil which ſhe had done; but as ſoon as ever Cleon came into his thoughts, the memory of her tranſported him, and kept him from thinking upon any thing elſe a long time after. In this Combate of thoughts he paſſed away almoſt all the day, and ſtirred not from his cave, but only to drink at the little rivolet, which relieved him in that neceſſity. But Laonice, ſeeing the day almoſt gone before ſhe heard any news of Tircis, ſhe began to fear that her deviſe was diſcovered: yet ſhe waited ſtill at the entrance into the wood, where the trees gave a more delectable ſhade then in any other place; and ſuch was her impatience, that at every blaſt which [Page] moved the trees, ſhe looked about, imagining it to be Tircis. At laſt, having thus ſpent the day in ſuch inquietudes as are uſual unto one that loves perfectly, ſhe reſolved to counterfeit a Ghoſt the ſecond time, with an oath never to become her ſelf again, in caſe her plot took no better succeſs then it had before. Then (ſaid ſhe to her ſelf) will I intent this Barbarian eternally. I will never let him take a minutes reſt: I will kindle a flame at the fire of my love, which a thouſand times worſe then that of the Furies, ſhall ſcorch him without intermiſſion, and without conforming him. In this deſign, ſhe prepared her ſelf to go into the place where Tircis was, about the ſame time of night ſhe did before; but fearing the Shepherd ſhould be awake, in hopes to ſee Cleon the ſecond time, ſhe thought it better to go thither a little before day. So ſhe paſſed away moſt part of the night under thoſe trees, and when ſhe thought it time, ſhe went to execute what ſhe had propoſed.

As ſoon as ſhe came to the caves mouth, ſhe liſtned with her ear as ſhe did before, and when ſhe was aſſured that Tircis was aſleep, ſhe entered in with as little noiſe as poſſibly ſhe could make: the firſt thing ſhe did was to cal him by his name, knowing very well, that naturally every one has a greater diſpoſition to hearken unto his own name, then to any other word; and indeed, the Shepherd upon the inſtant of naming him, did give ſome teſtimonies that he was not faſt aſleep: and therefore Laonice ſaid unto him: Tircis, thy diſobedience hath offended the gods and Cleon, and the rigour of Laonice unto thee ſhall be the puniſhment of thy crime; unleſſe thou wouldeſt have her ſpirit become inexorable unto thee, prepare thy ſelf to repair that fault this day, which thou didſt commit yeſterday: and once again conſider, that it is Cleon which commands it, and thou muſt never expect any favour from her, if thou doſt not obey me.

Upon this, ſhe went out again; and hearkning at the door, ſhe heard Tircis fetch a deep ſigh, and afterwards raiſing his voice: Alas, my deareſt Cleon (ſaid he) why doſt thou ſo ſoon fly out of the preſence of him, who once was half thy life? or why doſt thou now impoſe that upon me, which thou didſt abhor? Good gods! Is it poſſible there ſhould be any alteration? Can you be guilty of that common fault in men? Then he held his peace, and Laonice, who thought ſhe had now ſaid enough, ſhe was now ready to return, but upon a ſudden ſhe heard him ſay; Well Cleon (ſaid he) I will follow thy councel, and obey thy commands; and ſince the gods have inſpired thee with ſome pity upon Laonice, it is not juſt I ſhould be leſſe ſenſible of her miſeries then thou art. In ſaying ſo, he began again to ſigh, and the Shepherdeſs being all joy to hear it, ſhe would not ſtay to hear any more; but going ſome two or three hundred paces off, ſhe reſolved to give him all opportunities, to render reall obedience unto the faigned command which ſhe had impoſed upon him.

In the mean time, Tircis could not ſleep any more, but thinking upon the qualities of Laonices body and mind, and now having no more averſion to make him abominate all ſhe did, he began to think that the time he ſhould paſſe away with her, would be ſomething more pleaſing unto him then that which he ſhould ſpend in the ſolitude which he had choſen. In order hereunto, he got up as ſoon as day dawned; and not being able to imagine where he ſhould meet with this Shepherdeſs: but why ſhould I trouble my ſelf about it? (ſaid he upon a ſudden) the ſame gods who commanded me to love her, will doubtleſſe give me the opportunity to ſee her.

Upon this he went out, and not knowing which way to wend his courſe, he followed the firſt path his foot fell into. Laonice, who was within ken, was not long before ſhe ſaw him appear; and going into his path, ſhe ſat down, and when he was within hearing the began to ſing. At this voice Tircis ſtood amazed; and admiring the providence of the gods, in the conduct of this affection, he ſtole from tree to tree, till he came juſt unto the place where ſhe was, as ſhe had ended her ſong: He preſently fell down upon his knees; and the Shepherdeſs ſeeming to be extreamly afraid, ſhe got up, and would have fled away: But Tircis catching hold of her: Fair Laonice (ſaid he) as Cleon was formerly the cauſe of that little eſteem which I did ſet upon your beauty: ſo ſhe is now the cauſe of [Page] that love which I come to offer unto you, and doubly happy ſhall I be, if I can but find a favourable reception.

Laonice ſeeming ſtill to wonder at all this; cruel man (anſwered ſhe) are you not yet weary with tormenting me? how came you hither to perſecute me, in a place which I had choſen as a remedy againſt your cruelty? If you be the ſame Tircis who has ſo often and ſo cruelly tortured me, what moves you to come now and flatter me with fair promiſes of happineſſe, which you have ſo often put me out of all hopes ere to obtain? And if you be but only his Ghoſt, then tell me, what makes thee forſake the ſoul of that Cleon, whoſe aſhes you have ſo long Idoliz'd? I am really the ſame Tircis, replied the Shepherd, who not being able to ceaſe loving that fair one, would rather have died then changed; but ſince I have the command of Cleon for it, no other upon earth but only Laonice, is to have the glory of poſſeſſing me. In ſaying ſo, he offered to take her hand, and the Shepherdeſs ſtepping back, as not daring to touch him: Stay Tircis (ſaid ſhe unto him) I am yet in a doubt, whether what I ſee be real, or only an illuſion; either let me recollect my ſpirits, or you will affright me to death. Ah Laonice, replied Tircis, could we as eaſily believe miracles as the gods can do them, you would ſoon ceaſe your wonder. Indeed (ſaid Laonice and interrupted him) to ſee Tircis upon his knees before Laonice, and to hear him talk of any love to her, are two no ſmall miracles; and yet (ſaid Tircis) it is not more certain that I live, then it is that I love you. I do equally make a doubt of both (anſwered Laonice) and that which troubles me, is to know what proofs I ought to ask of what you ſay. Proofs moſt infallible (replied the Shepherd) which is my hearty repentance of the rigours which formerly I have returned you for the good will you had unto me, and an inviolable vow never to be any ones but yours: Upon this, he ſuddenly took her hand, and kiſſed it: and Laonice ſmiling, now (ſaid ſhe) I know that you have a body and are no illuſion; but I will think, that certainly there is ſome deluſion in this, unleſs you further acquaint me with your intention: My intention (anſwered the Shepherd) is ſutable to my words, and if the affection which I offer unto you, do merit a kind of reception which I deſire, then I do conjure you, for my ſake, to quit theſe deſarts, which are places more proper for Bears and Tigers, then ſuch beauties as yours: and let us both go together unto Mountverdune, where you ſhall receive from me the laſt teſtimony of my ſincere affection.

Laonice, who asked no more, yet was at firſt ſomething ſhie in the matter, did ac laſt conſent unto the deſires of Tircis: As they went on the way, Tircis asked by what Fate it was, that they both met ſo hapyily in that Forreſt, and Laonice ſhewed unto him the Oracle which ſhe had received. Afterwards Tircis told her with abundance of innoceney, all the paſſages of the Ghoſt which appeared unto him: at which Laonice could not chuſe but ſmile, to ſee what happy ſucceſs her artifice had effected, which the Shepherd attributing unto her joyes to poſſeſs him, he never had the leaſt ſuſpition of her cunning: At laſt being come unto a Temple, Tircis deſired Laonice to give her conſent, that a Druide might marry them; which ſhe conſenting unto, the marriage was preſently after ſolemnized: and then they went down together into the plain, to tell the news of their unlookt for marriage unto the Shepherds and Shepherdeſſes of their acquaintance.

Theſe accidents hapned unto Tircis, whilſt the reſt of the Shepherdeſſes of Lignon were in extream diſorder, by reaſon of the intereſt which every one had in the perſons of Celadon, Aſtrea, Diana, and Silvander; but above all, Licidas ſeemed moſt worthy of compaſſion, by reaſon of that fury which the death of Alexis had cauſed in him: And indeed, all the way as they went, Adamas did not interpoſe one word unto the complaints of that Shepherd, for he found them all ſo juſt, as he could not condemn him for it. But as ſoon as all the company was come unto his houſe, and Aſtrea, Diana, Celadon, and Silvander were laid in thoſe chambers which the Druide had appointed for them: Belinde and Phillis, who ſtill kept the one with Diana, and the other with Aſtrea, they obſerved that by little and little they opened their eyes, and by ſome ſighs which they ſent forth [Page] ſeemed to be yet in life. Phillis ran as faſt as ſhee could to acquaint Adamas; who very glad of this newes, went immediately unto Celadon, to ſee whether any ſignes of life were in her: But hee found both him and Silvander alſo, in the ſame ſtate they were at the Fountain: But though hee ſaw no hopes of recovery, yet hee and Lycidas undreſſed Celadon, whilſt Thamiris and Hylas got Silvander into bed. And when they were both in bed, the Druid laid his hand to the heart of Alexis, and found that ſtill there remained ſome heat. And indeed, ſhee was only in a ſwound, but ſuch a ſwound as by force of the Inchantment was much longer and more violent then ordinary. This did ſo over-joy him, that he went immediately unto his Cloſſet for ſuch remedies as he thought more proper to fetch life again; and indeed they had ſuch good operation, as in leſſe then a quarter of an hour, they both revived out of that Lethargy into which they were fallen. Lycidas no ſooner ſaw his brother alive, but repenting himſelf of all his furious impieties which hee had uttered, hee kneeled down at the beds feet, and lifting up his eyes: Oh yee great Gods (ſaid hee) who by a great Providence unknown unto us, do govern all things, I render unto you moſt hearty thanks, for the favour you have done me in, in reſtoring Celadon. Oh yee puiſſant Divinities, againſt whom my Fury did belch out Blaſphemies: I do confeſſe the horridneſſe of my Crime, and beg your Pardon. Upon this hee roſe up; all joyed to ſee Celadon not dead.

On the other ſide, the ſhepherd no ſooner opened his eyes, but hee remembred the danger unto which hee had expoſed himſelf: and thinking to finde himſelf lying upon the ground full of wounds and all bloudy, hee was amazed when hee ſaw himſelf in a delicate bed; where there was not Lions nor Unicornes, but in lieu of them, Adamas and his brethren ſtanding by him. The accident which hapned unto him in Galatheas Chamber after they had taken him out of the water, ame preſently into his mind: yet not being able to imagine how he came to be reſcued from the clawes of the Lions, which hee thought would have torn him in a thouſand pieces, he caſt his languiſhing eyes upon the Druid, and putting one arme out of bed, hee took his hand and ſpoke not a word, as doubting whether the objects hee had ſeen were reall or only imaginary: And therefore the Druid leaning over the bed, Celadon (ſaid hee unto him, and kiſſed his cheek) the Gods have been kinde unto us, and prevented the ill deſignes which you had againſt your ſelfe: you are ſtill alive, my Son, maugre all your attempts to dye; and ſince there is a kinde of ſtrange Fatality which will not let us loſe you ſo ſoon, I do hope it will prove both unto your contentment and minde: Father, (anſwered Celadon then in a weak and languiſhing tone) I am afraid, that the ſame ſubject from whence you draw ſome hopes of contentment, will cauſe in mee a more violent deſpair then ever yet I reſented: For if this part of life which remaines to mee muſt be imployed to mourne for the death of Aſtrea, whom I ſaw with mee in the ſame danger, and who (doubtleſſe) has received from the Lions that injury which they refuſed mee: believe it Father, every minute that I live will be a torture to mee ten thouſand times worſe then death. Upon this Lycidas took him about the neck, and embracing him with a million of carreſſes; No no, dear Brother (ſaid hee unto him) Aſtrea is as well as you are, I heard Phillis tell the Druid as much. Oh good God (cryed out Celadon) in this you have ſhewed your Juſtice: But Father (ſaid hee to Adamas) may I believe what Lycidas ſaies? You may (anſwered the Druid) for all this is but an effect of the great enchantment; and the Lions and Unicornes are turned into ſtatues of Marble, ſtill keeping their form and colour: Moreover, the ſame things that have hapned unto you, are hapned unto Aſtrea, Diana, and Silvander. How? (ſaid Celadon) is not Silvander dead? No (ſaid the Druid). In ſaying ſo, hee drew the curtain a little, and let him ſee that ſhepherd whom Thamiris and Hylas were comforting as well as they could: For not knowing the true cauſe which induced him to look for a death, they thought that his ſorrowes, to live ſo ignorant of himſelf, did make him deſire to die: and therefore they uſed all the beſt arguments they could to perſwade with him: They told him that his misfortune of being ignorant of himſelf, ought not to trouble him, ſince [Page] the door of heaven was open unto all well qualified men alike; That his merits had gotten him the effectionate hearts of ſo many ſhepherds, as would at all times ſupply his neceſſities, and make him live as well as themſelves. In fine, they gave him the beſt language and comfort they could; but not touching the right ſtring, nor hitting right upon his maladie, their muſick did but jarre in his ears, & did not work upon his humour, nor could they get any anſwers from him, but ſuch as made them think that his ſorrowes being ſo extreame, they did proceed from ſome cauſe unknown to them. They left him therefore in this condition: For the Druid, at the inſtance of Celadon, who deſired no other witneſſes but Lycidas, did draw them out of the room. As ſoon as they were gone, Silvander went into Celadons bed; who having received him, Shepherd (ſaid he unto him) I have no reaſon to wiſh you well. Why? (ſaid Celadon) Becauſe (anſwered Silvander) you did divert mee from my deſigne of precipitating my ſelfe; for had it not been better for you to have been a witneſſe of my death, then of the continuation of my miſeries? But ſee now, unto what a ſad condition I am reduced, ſince I can no longer avoid the preſence of Paris and Diana: the envie unto one, and the change of the other, will be double death unto mee. I cannot repent of what I did (ſaid Celadon) for it is my glory to have contributed any thing unto the preſervation of ſuch a ſhepherd as you are; but I am very ſorry that you have made your ſelf a companion of my Fortune, ſince you are the only cauſe of my not dying in this adventure: and the Gods would not have let mee live, but onely to puniſh mee for ſuffering you to hazzard your life in ſuch an occaſion wherein no other Lover but my ſelf ought to have periſhed. That is a ſecret (ſaid Silvander) known onely to Tautates: But Celadon, to let theſe deep miſeries alone, pray tell mee if you know any thing of Diana? I had not ſo much leaſure (anſwered Celadon) as to enquire, but I heard that Aſtrea was ſtill alive: yet Lycidas perhaps can ſatisfie you. Upon this hee called him; and Lycidas ſitting down at the beds feet, related what Phillis told unto the Druid: which joyed Silvander a little; but upon a ſudden, fetching a deep ſigh, Alas, alas replied hee, Paris is doubtleſſe now with her ſwimming in carreſſes of Love. No, anſwered Lycidas, Paris is very buſie in giving the entertainments of the houſe; and though the accident which hapned unto Diana did not a little trouble him, yet hee was conſtrained to that civility by the command of Adamas, who would needs have him entertaine Galathea, Roſanira, Daphnide, Medonthe, and other Nymphes which came from Marcelles. Celadon upon this asked his brother, how long it was ſince they came? to whom Lycidas anſwered, that they came in the morning, and were all trimmed in the habit of ſheperdeſſes, purpoſely to paſſe away the time more pleaſantly. At this, Silvander began to ſigh; but Lycidas even raviſhed with joy to ſee his brother, hee could not chuſe but laugh. Celadon asked him the cauſe of his laughing. I laugh, anſwered Lycidas, to ſee Silvander jealous, and to ſee how that paſſion does produce the ſame effects in him, which it did in mee when hee made it his ſport to vexe mee in that angry mood: and certainly to heare him talk, would make one believe that Diana has had two or three children by Paris, when God knowes, that not ſo much as a promiſe of marriage has paſſed between them. Silvander, who thought that Lycidas only mocked, hee changed neither face nor humour; but, on the contrary, ſeemed more troubled then before.

Alas ſhepherd, ſaid hee unto him, have you no more compaſſion ten to rub upon my ſoreſt wound? What great offence have I committed againſt you, that can deſerve ſo cruel a revenge? I proteſt, replied Lycidas, I have no thoughts of any revenge upon you: But if you could as easily hinder Paris from marrying Diana, as it is certain they are not yet married, you would quickly put an end to all your miſeries. Silvander then ſeeming to be extreamly glad of the newes; The Gods (ſaid hee) are my Friends: For had I dyed, I had diſobeyed Diana, who did abſolutely forbid mee dying, untill I hear her marriage was conſummated. But, ſaid Lycidas, what made you believe ſhee was married? I had no other aſſurance of it (anſwered Silvander) but the report of a boy which looks to my [Page] Flock, and told mee of it with ſo much innocent ſimplicity, as I could not ſuſpect the truth of it. The ſame encounter is hapned unto you, ſaid Celadon, that happens unto many others, when reports do paſſe through many mouthes▪, for every one addes a little, and the laſt will ſweare they ſaw that which neither is, nor ever was. Moſt true (anſwered Silvander); for this young boy ſwore unto mee, that hee who ſerves Lycidas did aſſure him, that hee ſaw all the Ceremonies, & danced after the muſick of the Ho-boyes, which ſounded all over the Plaines: But ſince this Fatal Ceremonie is not yet paſt, Good Gods (ſaid hee, and looked up to heaven) for pities ſake prevent it, or elſe let my death preceed it.

Silvander had no ſooner uttered theſe few words, but hee looked upon Celadon, Shepherd (ſaid hee unto him) why ſhould wee thus ſlugg away the time in bed? there is nothing that hinders us from riſing. True, ſaid Celadon; Though Adamas will not let us ſtirre from hence, yet wee may walk up and down the Room. Upon this, Silvander took his cloaths, and whilſt Celadon was ſeeking for his, hee had almoſt dreſt himſelfe: But neither Celadon nor Lycidas could finde his cloaths; for the Druid, who as hee went out, had carried away the cloaths of Alexis, hee had forgot to put Celadons in lieu of them: ſo, as being forced to keep his bed, Silvander and Lycidas ſate down by him: And falling into diſcourſe concerning the Inchantment, Lycidas related unto them all that hee had ſeen.

In the mean time, Adamas went to ſee Aſtrea, and that ſhepherdeſſe no ſooner ſaw him near her bed, but looking upon him with ſuch: an eye as plainly teſtified the aſtoniſhment wherein ſhee was; Father, ſaid ſhee unto him, how comes it to paſſe you ſhould now ſee mee in this bed, and nor rather in my coffin? and by what misfortune am I ſevered from Alexis? To this, anſwered the Druid, I cannot anſwer; for I know nothing of the accidents: But if the Gods ſhould never let you ſee her again, I ſhould think them juſt in it, ſince you have already treated her with ſo much diſdain, as they may think they are kinde unto you in it. But Father, replied the ſhepherdeſſe, would you have mee pardon the offence which I have received from her diſguiſe? You have told mee ſo much of her innocence, that I do conſent to love him no leſſe then formerly I did: and ſince they know that I am not now angry againſt her, nor can live without her, why do they not reſtore her unto mee?

When I told you of her innocence, replied the Druid, I told you but what I thought obliged mee not to conceale, knowing her diſcretion ſo well; and you have not known ſince, that I ſaid nothing but truth. Since the Unicornes were ſeen by you, and it is a moſt infallible truth, that thoſe Animals never come near a woman who is in the leaſt blemiſhed in her Chaſtity. But the greater the innocency of Alexis is, the greater is your crime; and therefore I am afraid, that the Gods do intend to puniſh you for it, and will never ſuffer you to enjoy a perſon whom you have without any reaſon twice baniſhed from your preſence. I perceive Father, ſaid Aſtrea, faintly, that Alexis is dead, and that the Gods are juſt in puniſhing mee ſo. But they will not be juſt, if they let mee live, or at leaſt will not ſuffer mee, after I have been puniſhed for the unjuſt anger I conceived againſt Celadon, to be recompenced for the Love which I preſerved for him in the midſt of our greateſt misfortunes. In ſaying ſo, her eyes guſhed out with Tears: And Adamas having compaſſion upon her, Daughter, ſaid hee do not thus immoderately afflict your ſelf, until you hear more particulars of the loſſe of Alexis: my cares of bringing you hither, were a cauſe of my not knowing what was hapned unto her: but if you will promiſe to ſtay untill I returne with patience, I will promiſe to bring you a faithfull relation. Father, anſwered Aſtrea, though the condition wherein I ſaw her, makes mee more certain of her death, yet ſince you command it, I will ſtay till you return, that you may afterwards think my deſign of following her the more juſt: But, Father, (continued ſhee) even for pities ſake, do not ſlatter mee, in thinking to comfort mee, you will make mee the more deſperate. Adamas did promiſe to do whatſoever ſhee deſired, and ſeeing Bellinde in talk with Diana, hee would [Page] not interrupt them, but went ſtraight into Celadons chamber, where finding Silvander out of bed, and his countenance not ſo ſad as before, hee ſeemed to rejoyce much at it. Afterwards going unto Celadon; How comes it to paſſe (ſaid hee unto him) that you are not up as well as Silvander? Is not your courag [...] as good, or are you not ſo well as hee? Lycidas prevented his brother in his anſwer; Father (ſaid hee) neither of thoſe are the reaſon of it, but becauſe I cannot finde his cloaths. Then Adamas remembring that hee had locked them up, hee went and brought thoſe that hee was wont to wear before his diſguiſement; and giving them unto him, Here ſon, ſaid hee unto him, may you be happy in that habit, and enjoy her whom you love beſt. Celadon did take them with a thouſand thanks for his good wiſhes, and as ſoon as hee began to caſt his eies upon them, ſo many thoughts came into his minde, that hee could not chuſe but fetch a deep ſigh: which the Druid obſerving, How now Celadon (ſaid hee)? had you rather continue in your diſguiſe, then aſſume this habit? I cannot tell Father, (anſwered the ſhepherd faintly) which of the two make me the more happy: For under the habit of Alexis, Aſtrea commanded mee to die, and under that of Celadon ſhee baniſhed mee her preſence. Adamas, who ſaw that the memory of theſe things did trouble him, and having no minde to talk any more of them, but withdrawing a little, to give him the more time to dreſſe him, Celadon (ſaid hee) do not diſpute upon the choiſe any longer, but weare this that I have brought unto you; and if you will referre all the reſt unto mee, I will finde out a way to make you happy. Upon this, Celadon dreſſed himſelf; and when hee was ready, Adamas embraced him: Then Lycidas did the ſame with ſo many tears and expreſſions of Love, as it was eaſie to judge, that the affection which tyed them together, proceeded from ſome ſtronger cauſes than conſanguinity. Silvander was extreamly joyed to ſee it; and as handſome as hee had appeared under the diſguiſe of a Druides daughter, hee appeared much handſomer in the habit of a ſhepherd.

Adamas took him by the hand, and carrying him out of the chamber, Sonne (ſaid hee unto him) you muſt know, that Aſtrea does infinitely deſire to know what is become of you, and becauſe ſuch welcom newes will be beſt from your own mouth, I think it moſt fit you ſhould carry it your ſelfe. At this Celadon changed colour: But Father (ſaid hee) ſhee has commanded mee to die, and though I did endeavour to obey her, yet it is to be feared ſhee will not take my endeavour for good payment. Never let that trouble you, (replied the Druid) I have ſo well prepared her minde in your abſence, as ſhee is reſolved never to give you any more cauſe of diſcontent. If you do love her, you muſt not refuſe to ſee her; for all the hopes ſhee has, is now only that you are alive. In ſaying ſo, hee entreated Silvander and Lycidas to accompany them unto her chamber: Celadon did tremble at every ſtep, till hee came to the beds ſide of that ſhepherdeſſe, and then began to ſigh, and was not able to ſpeak one word. Aſtrea did mildly caſt her eyes upon the Druid, and ſeeing him ſo ſilent, did think at firſt that hee brought her bad newes: Ah Father (ſaid ſhee) your ſilence does ſpeak my ill fortune. Tell mee truly, is Alexis dead? Then Adamas looking upon her with a ſeeming ſad eye, Daughter (ſaid hee) I ſhould never be the meſſenger of ſuch ſad newes, but that I am forced unto it. Upon this, Aſtrea began to tremble: Good Father (ſaid ſhee) hold mee no longer in ſuſpence, ſpeak plainly, and relate unto mee all the accidents that have hapned unto Alexis: as ſhee ſaid ſo, ſhee ſeemed to be ſo ſadly afflicted, as if ſhee had not a minute to live. Good Aſtrea (ſaid Adamas) why ſhould I relate the ſucceſſe of a thing that will but diſpleaſe and trouble you? You your ſelf knowes more concerning Alexis then I do: you ſaw her in combare with the Lions: and by that may judge what is become of her? But good Father (anſwered Aſtrea) did the Lions turn their fury only againſt her? Could not I as well have ſatisfied their rage and hunger? Oh moſt cruel Fate! (continued ſhee with eyes flowing in teares: Miſerable Aſtrea! Poor unfortunate Alexis, art thou dead, and my rigour the cauſe of it? Then ſhee began to tear her hair, but the Druid held her hand: Dear Daughter (ſaid hee) firſt hear mee with patience what I ſhall ſay, [Page] and afterwards execute upon your ſelf all the violences that diſpair can prompt you unto. Upon this Aſtrea was ſilent, and Adamas continued; ſince you will not have any thing concealed from you (ſaid he unto her) let me tell you Daughter that it is true, Alexis is not alive, and to the end you may believe, that at the laſt munite of life nothing was more dear unto her then the memory of Aſtrea, I will reſtore unto you a pledge which ſhe hath left, and which belongs only unto you. Aſtrea thought that Adamas would have reſtored unto her, the knot, the ringe, and the Picture which Celadon had of hers; and preparing her ſelf to live ſo long as to receive thoſe teſtimonies of her dear ſhepherds love and fidelity, ſhe held her hand out unto the Druide: come Father (ſaid ſhe) give me that which Alexis has kept better then I have deſerved.

Upon this, Adamas drawing the cartaine, and taking Celadon by the hand: heere, fair Aſtrea (ſaid he) heere is Celadon whom Alexis commandes you to receive, and whoſe life ought to be the dearer unto you, becauſe it is preſerved only for your glory, and contentment: as ſoon as Aſtrea caſt her eyes upon him, and knew him, ſhe was ſo extreamly ſurpriſed, and in ſuch a confuſion of thoughts as ſhe ſtood for a while as inmoveable as any ſtatue: But Celadon on the contrary, kneeling down upon the ground, and taking her hand, My faireſt Aſtrea, ſaid he unto her, if my extream love be worthy of any favour, I do moſt humbly beſeech you to pardon all the faults that ever I committed againſt your beauty: If the miſeryes which I have ſuffered be not enough to ſatisfie you, oh faireſt, let your goodness ſupply the fault: and to reſtore me, if not unto the ſame place which once I had in your heart, yet at the leaſt unto ſo much leave as to render you the ſame ſervices, which formed ſeemerly acceptable unto you.

The ſhepherd uttered theſe words in ſuch a paſſionate manner that Aſtrea could not chuſe but be much moved at them, laying aſide them, all termes of modeſty, and thinking upon nothing but love, ſhe embraced him, and though her wonder, & her teares did much interrupt her ſpeech, yet he through exceſſive fulneſs of, joy forced out theſe words: My deareſt Celadon, I do not only reſtore you unto that Room which once you had in my heart, but I do give you my ſelf my heart and all: and if after ſo many injuries as I have done you, I have any power with you I beſeech and command you to live and love me. At this Celadon ſtood amazed, and it was long before he was able to open his mouth: But at laſt, recollecting himſelf. Yes yes, my faireſt Aſtrea (replied he) I will love and live and ſince you are pleaſed to command it, I will endeavour as much to preſerve my life, as I have to diſtroy it: when I thought that my paſſion was not pleaſing unto you, every moment of my life was as horrid unto me as death: but now ſince your compaſſion has ſuffered my perſeverance to overcome you, and ſince the remembrance of my ſervices has inſpired you with a kindneſs to re-admit me into your favour, oh deareſt ſtar of my life, my dayes ſhall not be without any nights, and not a ſhepherd about all Lignon, ſhall be comparably ſo full of joyes as I am. My beloved ſhepherd replied Aſtrea very ſweetly, if your joyes and felicity does depend upon my affection, you have good reaſon to ſay that you ſhall be highly happy, ſince my affection is moſt perfect: and to put you out of all doubt of me, be aſſured Celadon, I will ſooner die then faile in the leaſt fillable I have spoken; and let Lignon be as angry with me as I was with it when I thought it the extinguiſher of your life, and flames if I do not moſt religiouſly obſerve all the promiſes that ever I made in your favour. Beleive me, my deareſt Son, I do [...] this very preſent, renew and confirm unto you all the aſſurances of my affection▪ My faireſt Aſtrea (ſaid Celadon, even raviſhed with exceſs of joy and delight,) if I do receive theſe ſweet words as the moſt ſoveraign balſome againſt all thy miſeryes▪ may Lignon repent it ever ſpared my life; and if ever I offer to diſpleaſe you eyther in deed, word or very thought, may the air I breath in be an eternall plague unto me; Deareſt Son (ſaid Aſtrea, and interrupted) I know that you love me better then I do deſerve; but as great as your affection is cannot ſurpaſe the deſire which I have of your love; for indeed Celadon I would have you wholy mine, for as never any misfortune may be able to break in ſunder thoſe chaine [...] wherewith love has united out wits; In ſaying ſo, ſhe embraced him again: and [Page] Celadon was ſo raviſhed with joyeſ as he did not only forget all his paſt miſeryes but alſo did inſenſibly loſe the knowledge of himſelf; and doubtleſs he had died in this rapture if Phillis who was a witneſs of this reconciliation had not took him about the neck in expreſſion of her joyes to ſee him again in that habit. Bellinde and Diana were alſo very attentive unto their diſcourſe; and though the ſorrowes which Diana reſented were incapable of any cure; yet it was ſome comfort unto her, to ſee her Companion ſo happy.

Adamas on the other ſide, who feared that the ſpirit of Aſtrea being ſo ſuddainly tranſported from one extremity unto another might do her ſome harm, he was very glad to ſee their carreſſes interrupted, and going to her: Daughter (ſaid he) if the life of Celadon be dear unto you, you muſt ſuffer him to be carryed away for I am afraid that as your rigours had formerly coſt him his life ſo now your favours will do the ſame: Father (anſwered Aſtrea) the benefits which I have received from you, are not comparable unto thoſe the gods beſtow upon us: you alone have given Celadon unto me, and you may take him from me when you pleaſe without injuſtice I do intend (ſaid Adamas(to part you but a ſhort while; for I proteſt, before to morrow be expired, I will marry you togeather, and will ſend expreſly to Phocion about it, provided it be not repugnant to your will; Celadon and Aſtrea both expreſſing that to be the only object of their deſires: my Children, (ſaid the Druide) may heaven make you happy in each other: The reaſon why I deferre the ceremony untill to morrow, is only becauſe I would have it done more ſolemly, and have Phocion a witneſs of it. In ſaying ſo, he took Celadon by the hand, and carryed him out of the Chamber, after he had adviſed the ſhepherdeſs to take a little reſt, for after her two or three dayes travel, it was the only phyſique that would recover her health: upon this ſmall ſeperation, the eyes of Aſtrea and Celadon did dart, and communicate unto each other all the hidden ſecrets of love under the conſtraint of ſilence; And though the cauſe of their parting ſhould not have diſcontented them, yet they could not chuſe but greive at it, and think it one of thoſe bitter pilles which heaven does ordinarily mixe amongſt the pleaſures of life.

Adamas was no ſooner gone out, but Bellinde did ſeat her ſelf upon her Daughters bed, well Daughter (ſaid ſhe unto her in a low voice) heere is your Companion, ready to ſee all her deſires accompliſhed, and will ſuffer mine to find a contrary ſucceſs? She is goeing to enjoy a million of delights in the ſociety of Celadon, and are not you aſhamed to refuſe thoſe which I do offer unto you in the enjoyment of Paris? You cannot now alleadge one juſt exception againſt him: for you are now diſpenſed from your vow of going to live with her amongſt the Carnutes, ſince ſhe her ſelf will not aſſume that order upon her, and if you have taken any oath to be a follower of her fortunes as you told me that you had, then ſince ſhe prepares her ſelf for marriage, ſo muſt you prepare your ſelf for the ſame kind of life: Madam (anſwered Diana very faintly, and faigning her ſelf to be as ſick in body as in mind) the condition wherein I am me thinks ſhould move you to make preparation of a coffin for me rather then a husband; I do find the approaches of death ſo near as I cannot think upon any worldly matter: and if you value my contentment I do conjure you Madam (continued ſhe in a weak, and languiſhing tone) even by the name of Mother, not to trouble me with any more of ſuch diſcourſe, ſince all is to no purpoſe, and cannot produce your deſired effects. Theſe expreſſions did ſo greive Bellinde, as nothing ſuſpecting her cunning, ſhe verily beleived, that ſhe was even ready to expire: and therefore with eyes flowing in teares, ſhe ſaid unto her; Ah my dear Diana, ſince this diſcourse is troubleſome unto you, I will not uſe it any more only promiſe me to live, and let no diſcontents trouble you: for I ſwear that if you give me any hopes of recovery unto your former health; I will do all that poſſibly I can to obtain from the gods that you may never marry, and that they will revoke the ſentence which they have already pronounced in favour of Paris. Diana was very glad that Bellinde did ſlacke in her ſeverity of conſtraining her to marriage: ſo as faining to aſſume a little ſtrength, and rayſing her feeble voice, Madam (ſaid ſhe) if ever I did diſobey you without abundance of regret, may the gods puniſh you: [Page] and I proteſt that if they will but ſend me three dayes of life, I will punctually do whatſoever you ſhall command me.

Diana, ſpoke this only to keep Bellinde in a good humour, and that ſhe ſhould not miſtruſt that ſhe had any deſign of attempting any thing upon her ſelf, But her maine drift was to make uſe of the time, as ſo to deceive Bellinde, that ſhe might make an eſcape, and follow the fate of Silvander whatſoever it was. She du [...] not in her Mothers preſence enquire one ſillable of him yet being infinitly impatient to know what was become of him, and conceiving that Phillis might perhaps know, ſhe thought that if Bellinde were once goneu▪ Phillis would tell her all. She ſheemed therefore to be deſirous of ſleep, and ſhutting her eyes, faigned a ſlumber. Bellinde who heard the Druide ſay, that ſleep and reſt was abſolutely neceſſary for Aſtrea, ſhe thought it as convenient for Diana, and was very glad to ſee a diſpoſition of ſleep upon her: with drawing her ſelf therefore as ſoftly as ſhe could, ſhe entreated Phillis to have a care of her whilſt ſhe went unto Adamas. Phillis did promiſe ſhe would, and did verily beleive but Companion was a ſleep, ſo well could ſhe counterfet the matter; But as ſoon as ever Bellinde was out of the Room, the ſicke ſhepherdeſſe leaped out of her bed, and went into Aſtreas: Siſter (ſaid ſhe unto her) I am [...]riving betwixt ſome thoughts that are very different: I am extreamly glad to ſee you ready to enjoy the happineſs which Adamas hath procured you, in reſtoring you Celadon; And it greives my ſoul to ſee the gods refuſe Silvander unto me: The intereſt I have in your contentment does much mitigate the violence of my greif: but I muſt needs confeſſe I cannot be quite clear from all ſorrowes, for beſides my greif that the gods will not ſuffer me to enjoy him, it greives me alſo that I cannot hear what is become of him: Companion (anſwered Phillis) the very ſame which hapned unto you at the fountain by reaſon of the enchantment, hath hapned unto him alſo: So as hee was brought in the ſame coach with you; and being put into the ſame Chamber with Celadon, Adamas was ſo officious about him, that hee is now, as well as you are: and indeed the Druide told me that hee was up, and that hee left him with Lycidas. Alas, (replied Diana) who was infinitly diſitrous to ſee him, that ſhe might tell him what diſcourſe ſhe had with Bellinde) to what purpoſe is it, there ſhould be ſick a conformity in our humours and lives, as long as the deſtinies will not ſuffer our deſires to produce the ſame effects? In ſaying ſo, ſhe could not chuſe but ſigh; afterwards addreſſing her ſelf unto Aſtrea. But [...]iſter (ſaid ſhe) why ſhould we ſhut light out of the Room? would Phillis would be pleaſed to open the windowes, and that we might both get out of bed where we cannot reſt, you by reaſon of your joyes, and I by reaſon of my ſorrowes; But ſiſter (anſwered Aſtrea) Adamas has ſo expreſly enjoyned me to keep my bed till morning, as I ſhould think it a grand crime to diſobey him, as for your deſires of ſeeing Silvander (for I know your impatiency proceds from thence) it is probable that the day will not paſſe away, before it has given you that contentment: Well, (ſaid Diana) ſince hee has commanded it to bee ſo, we will not diſobey: and ſince we are to bee left alone, if Silvander do come, my Mother will not bee heere. Well well (ſaid Phillis preſently upon this) I ſhall propound an expedient unto you: make me your confident, and do not conceale any part of your ſoul from me; Then ſhall I do ſomething for the ſatisfaction of that ſhepherd, in exchange of the harm I did him when I took your bracelet from him. Then dear Companion (replied Diana) I beſeech you tell him—no no, replied Phillis, and interrupted her) I will not tell him any thing: for perhapes hee will not believe me; but write what you will unto him; and I ſhall deliver your Letter with as much fidelity as you can deſire: Alas (anſwered Diana) that cannot bee, becauſe we know not how to goe eyther pad, ink, or paper. I will ſee, (ſaid Phillis) in ſaying ſo, ſhe opened the window, and go [...]ing unto a little ebony cabinet, by fortune ſhe found in it, an inborn, and five or ſixe ſheets of paper; For Adamas kept ſuch a cabinet in every Chamber, for the conveniency of ſuch as lay in them, in caſe they ſtood in need of them: [...]ringing them therefore unto Diana, ſhe was ſo importance with her, that ſhe prevailed, and made her write a Letter; and then took upon her to deliver it unto Silvander ▪ [Page] ſo ſhe left Diana and Aſtrea alone, after a promiſe that ſhe would tell all the world that they were aſleep: ſo as none might offer to come and interrupt them.

Paris all this while was entertaining Roſaulra, Galathea, and the beſt in the great chamber, where manger all diſaſtrous accidents, he was conſtrained to put on a face of civility, though he ſeemed unto his company to be in no manner of conſtraint: Theſe new Shepherdeſſes ſtayed not long in that room; for they deſired to go into the Garden, which was a piece of ſuch an exquiſitneſs, that neither Art not Nature could not add any greater ornament unto the houſe of the Druide, then it: After they had walked a while, they ſate down in an Arbour at the end of a long walk, juſt oppoſite to the Garden door where they entred: They had not been there above a quarter of an hour, before they ſaw Adamas enter, holding Silvander in one hand, and another Shepherd in the other, whom at the firſt ſight they knew not: yet, they concluded him to be a perſon of ſome conſideration, as well by reaſon of the eſteem which the Druide made of him, as by reason of his handſome and comely deportment: Yet, as Adamas drew nearer and nearer, ſo they began to be out of the doubt wherein they were; for the Nymph Golathea, who ſince ſhe firſt caſt her eye upon him, did find ſome extraordinary motion in her ſoul, ſhe preſently cryed out, O, it is Celadon: In ſaying ſo, ſhe roſe up to go and meet the Druide; and all the reſt doing the ſame, as ſoon as Adamas ſaw them coming he doubled his pace, and when he was near Galathea, Madam (ſaid he, and preſented Celadon unto her) here is one whom your compaſſion did ſave from drowning, and I come to offer him unto you, as unto one whom he belongs unto. Upon this, the Shepherd kneeled down upon the ground, and kiſſed the Nymphs hand; but ſhe, who new the quality and merit of Celadon, did preſently take him up, and after ſhe had embraced him, Adamas (ſaid ſhe) I do receive your preſent, and will love him the more dearly, becauſe having reſcued him out of the jaws of death, I may in ſome ſort ſay, he is mine own. Moſt true, Madam, anſwered the Shepherd, for if I do not ow my birth unto you, yet I do my preſervation, which was a favour of ſo high a dearneſs, as I ſhall ſooner die then loſe the memory of it: Yes, yes (replied Galathea, taking the Shepherd by the hand, and carrying him to the place where all the company was) you do ow unto me all this freſh coulour which is now in your cheek; and but for me; your handſome body would have been food for fiſhes. Madam, replied Celadon, I do know that I ow my life unto you, and will me [...], willingly imploy it in your ſervice; but yet, replied Galathea, I make more doubt of you affection, then I do of your courage: for the truth is, you were alwayes inſenſible of my love, and all my expreſſion of affection unto you never moved you. Celadon did bluſh at this diſcourſe, remembring how he had been perſecuted in the Pallace of Iſoures; and after he had looked about and ſaw none follow, he expected a ſhrewd combate. Yet being fully reſolved to fail, rather in his reſpects unto the Nymph, then in his fidelity to Aſtrea: Madam replied he, if ever I failed in my humble acknowledgements, it was rather a fault in my wit, then in my wil: I have ever endeavoured not to appear ungrateful for the favour of your compaſſion, and if I cannot ſatisfie ſuch obligation as you have loadned me withall, it is your own fault, Madam, who has made them too high for me to requite.

Ah Celadon (ſaid Galathea) I never demanded any Empires of Kingdomes from you; what I required might eaſily have been done, my ambition never aimed any higher then to enjoy you: and had you conſented unto that, I ſhould have thought my ſelf ſufficiently paid for all the cares and pains I took for your preſervation: I do moſt humbly beſeech your pardon Madam (ſaid Celadon ſadly) if I ſay, that I could not ſatisfie your deſire without committing a moſt extream injuſtice: for then I had diſpoſed of that which was anothers, and had not given you that which was not mine own. If there be any crime in this, the charms of Aſtrea are guilty of it, or rather the gods themſelves, who have ſuffered that Shepherdeſs ſo to overcome me, as it is impoſſible I ſhould be anyes but only hers, or ever drawn out of that ſervitude, wherein her beauty and merit [Page] keeps me faſt priſoner. What Celadon (ſaid Galathea) are you in this mind ſtill? Yes Madam, anſwered the Shepherd, and I have neither will nor power to be otherwiſe. What then muſt Galathea do? replied the Nymph, do you think ſhe can ſurvive ſo many rigorous ſcorns and diſdains as you ſeem to have of her? Fair Nymph (ſaid Celadon, and looked upon her with an eye full of reſpect and conſtraint) if you be ſorry for ſaving that life which was ready to periſh, command me to reſtore you that which you preſerved: I am moſt ready to die, and do proteſt it will be a great ſatisfaction unto me to loſe my ſelf in obeying you, and making it appear to the world, that nothing can diſſolve thoſe knots wherewith Love hath enchained me: As he ſaid ſo, his eyes ſtood in water; and Galathea, who held all this dicourſe with him, only to try his fidelity, Celadon (ſaid ſhe and embraced him) live happy in the love of your Shepherdeſs, I ſwear unto you, that I will never be jealous, but her contentment ſhall be a cauſe of mine: Heaven at the laſt, has had compaſſion upon me, and cured my ſoul of thoſe wounds which that Impoſtourous Druide had made in it: I do pardon the flight of Lucinde, and the treaſon of all her Complices; and to diſcover the moſt intimate ſecret of my ſoul unto you, know Celadon, that Lindamor is only in my heart: but that you may not think your ſelf a loſer by this change, aſſure your ſelf Shepherd, that I will love and eſteem you as long as I live: In ſaying ſo, ſhe embraced him again, and Celadon tranſported with joy, did caſt himſelf at her feet, and kiſſing her hand, Madam (ſaid he) it is now that I muſt acknowledge my ſelf moſt really obliged unto you for my life, ſince you do give unto my ſoul, that only thing which could make it live with delight: Upon this, the Nymph took his hand, and carryed him to the reſt of the company.

Belinde came into the Garden almoſt at the ſame time, and after her Phillis, of whom Galathea enquired particularly of Aſtrea and Diana: and this Shepherdeſs anſwering that they were aſleep and took good reſt, the Nymph turned towards Celadon, and ſo may you with her (ſaid ſhe in a low voice) as long as you live; and may all thoſe that offer to diſturb you be hated of heaven. Celadon had hardly leaſure to return her thanks for her good wiſh, for at the ſame time he was mingled amongſt the reſt. But Phillis, who came only to give Silvander a concontentment above his expectation, did endeavour to have diſcourſe with him unſeen unto any; and yet ſhe was afraid, that if ſhe did not acquaint Licidas, it might revive his paſſion of jealouſie, which had coſt her ſo much trouble before, ſo as ſhe was conſtrained to impart her ſecret unto him, and thus her freedome was ſo pleaſing unto that Shepherd, as he went preſently unto Silvander, and pretending to ſhew him a flower, the name whereof he deſired to know, he drew him a little aſide, and told him that Phillis had ſomething to ſay unto him: ſo as ſevering himſelf by degrees from the company, and Phillis obſerving him, ſhe also ſtole away, and met him in a cloſe Arbour, ſo thick with leaves, that none could ſee them. Phillis found Silvander a little ſurprized; for remembring a command which ſhe once brought him from Diana about a bracelet, he thought ſhe came upon the like meſſage now, and was extreamly perplexed; but the Shepherdeſs knowing his fears, Silvander (ſaid ſhe unto him) I have been ſo accuſtomed to do you ill offices, as the very ſight of me is an alarm unto you: but, though heretofore you have had ſome cauſe to fear meeting with me, yet you have now reaſon to deſire it.

Upon this, not giving him ſo much time as to reply, ſhe gave him Dianas Letter, and ſaid unto him, here Silvander, take this in full recompence of all the harm I ever did you, when I took my companions bracelet for you: The Shepherd took it, kiſſed it; and afterwards, with a trembling hand opening it, he read theſe words.

[Page]

DIANA's Letter unto SILVANDER.

IF you be any thing troubled concerning me, know my deareſt Silvander, that I do live only, becauſe you are not dead: If your curioſity do reach ſo far, as to enquire after my health, never conſult with any other Phyſician but your own ſelf, and according to the ſtate wherein you find your ſelf, ſo judge of me and my condition. They tell me, that tomorrow, Love is to pronounce ſome Oracles, perhaps we ſhall there here ſomething which concerns our Deſtinies. In the mean time, have a care of your own preſervation for my ſake, and be aſſured, that if they do forbid me from being Silvanders, I will never be the wife of Paris: Live therefore and adieu.

Silvander had no ſooner done readnig this Letter, but he kiſſed it a thouſand times; and his ſoul admiring the affection and fidelity of this Shepherdeſs, he read it over and over again five or ſix times, as if he had doubted whether or no his eyes had deceived him in making him to hope for a bleſſing ſo far beyond his expectation. At laſt, turning towards Phillis: Moſt true fair Shepherdeſs (ſaid he unto her) the happineſs which now you have brought me is a full ſatisfaction for all the harms you ever did me; but if you will make this favour moſt perfectly compleat, do me the honour to tell my faireſt Miſtreſs, how I do reſent her compaſſion upon my love and miſery: Tell her, dear Phillis, that I will live as long as ſhe keeps her promiſe inviolable, or as long as there is any hopes to enjoy her: If ſhe meaſure her health by mine, tell her ſhe may ſafely leave her bed, ſince I do find no diſpoſition unto mine: Phillis now repented that ſhe did not bring with her the Inkhorn which Diana made uſe of; but thinking that this Shepherdeſs would give credit unto the report which ſhe ſhould make, ſhe promiſed Silvander to deliver the meſſage faithfully, and bidding adieu unto Licidas, ſhe returned preſently to her companions: unto whom, relating all paſſages, and the joyes which Silvander reſented at the reading of the Letter, Diana was infinitly comforted.

In the mean time, Adamas, Galathea, Roſanira, Celadon, and the reſt, were gone into a walk upon the left hand, which led them inſenſibly into a little wood, which the Druide had incloſed within the pale of his garden: But they were no ſooner entred into it, then they heard a voice which made a moſt lamentable noiſe. Adamas, who never heard the like, he was extreamly deſirous to know what it was; and remembring how Aſtrea was carryed away in the time of Polemas his Rebellion, he was afraid, that ſome Shepherdeſs was menaced with the like accident: therefore he ran unto the place, from whence he thought this hideous noiſe came; and he was no ſooner come unto it, with Roſanira, Galathea, and the reſt who followed him, but they perceived that it was man ſtriving and ſtruggling in the arms of Olicarſis.

This ſight did extreamly ſurprize them; and the more, when the man doubling his cries, and Olicarſis ſtill ſtriving with him till he was ill in a ſweat, they appeared to have ſome ill deſigns one againſt the other; and Olicarſis, being the ſtronger, had ſurmounted the reſiſtance of his enemy. They advanced therefore to part them, but at the very ſame time, the man fell to the ground, with ſo little ſign of life, as every one thought him dead. They knew him preſently to be the ſame man which came with Olicarſis and Halladine, which cauſed them all to fix their looks upon the good old man, who looking alſo upon them again without ſaying a word, but putting his hand into his pocket, he pulled out his handkerchief, and wiped his face. Mean time Adamas extreamly aſtoniſhed, and not knowing what to think of this ſtrange accident, he addreſſed himſelf unto Olicarſis, whilſt the reſt went unto him that was fallen, to ſee if they could recover [Page] him. But Olicarſis, upon a ſudden raiſing up his voice, and being a little recollected: Fair Shepherdeſſes (ſaid he unto them, for ſuch he thought Roſanira, Galathea, Dorinde, Daphnide, Madonthe, Silvia, and the reſt to be) do not wonder to ſee that man in ſuch a condition: it is by an accident which is very ordinary unto him, and is no leſſe wonderful then the cauſe from whence it proceeds. Every one ſeemed extreamly deſirous to know what the matter was, eſpecially Galathea, who could not chuſe but make her curioſity appear: which Olicarſis perceiving. I do very well know (ſaid he unto them) that I cannot make a diſcourſe of it unto you, without being very tedious; but ſince you ſeem ſo deſirous of it, I will not be ſparing of my labour; ſince the man will give us time enough to do it, for he will not awake out of this Lethargie wherein you ſee him, this two hours: So every one ſeeming ſtill more and more deſirous to hear Olicarſis, they all ſate round about him, and he began thus.:

The Hiſtory of OLICARSIS and AZAHIDES.

THat morning, when this Shepherdeſs came and interrupted us (meaning Phillis) I was beginning to relate unto you, p [...]rt of thoſe paſſages which hapned in the Empiredome of the Eaſt, and in that of the Weſt, ſince Ʋrſaces, Eudoxe, Olimbres, and Placidia, were recompenced all the pains which Love had made them ſuffer; and becauſe it is in ſome ſort neceſſary, I ſhould tell them unto you, to make you the more admire at the Fatality which brought me hither, I will now begin my diſcourſe where I left laſt: firſt begging your excuſe, if by a Narration perhaps too long. I ſhall offend your ears and patience.

Give me leave to tell you then, that the affection which I teſtified unto the ſage Eudoxe, during her captivity unto Genſerick, did purchaſe me ſo great a ſhare in the friendſhip of Vrſaces and Olimbres, as we may all ſay, that ever ſince we have been all one and the ſame. This was the reaſon, that when they departed, I beſeeched the King to let me got with them; and their deſign was, to prefer me unto Marcian, as conceiving that ſage Emperour would love me when he once knew me; but Ginſerick, who perhaps doubted or feared, that the remembrance of my impriſonment would beget ſome reſentmeats in me againſt him, he would not upon any terms give me leave. But on the contrary, thinking that honours and riches were the moſt powerful charms that he could uſe to keep me about his perſon, he began to put me upon imployments which were very troubleſome unto me, ſince they diverted me from my ſtudies; but yet very honourable they were, ſince they were the greateſt offices in all his Dominions. A correſpondency betwixt Vrſaces, Olimbres, and me, did not yet die, notwithſtanding the Rigour of this ſeparation; but as if abſence were a means to link us in affection the more firmly; it did encreaſe amongſt us at that diſtance. We were exceedingly vigilant and careful in ſending unto each other; and as I gave them an accompt of all my buſineſſe and negotiations, ſo I believe, they did participate unto me their moſt intimate thoughts. Thus I heard of their return unto Marcian; the Carreſſes wherewith that Emperour did ſolemnize their marriage, and in fine, the greateſt part of that which I ſhall tell you in the Sequel of this diſcouſre. Be pleaſed to know that Marcian ſhas no ſooner entred upon the ſeventh year of his Empiredome, but as it is the quality of virtue to beget much envy and jealouſie, ſo the merit of that ſage Emperour did raiſe thoſe two paſſions in the minds of Ardabures and Aſpar, who having been much in Conſtantinople, did think, that to obtain the Empire, there needed no more, but to take the Crown from off the head of Marcian They began therefore to plot and make parties againſt him; and finding that his life would be a main obſtacle in their way (what will not ambition do to get a Crown) they diſpatched him by poyſon. Judge, I beſeech you, how nearly his death did concern Vrſaces and Olimbres, and how nearly they reſented [Page] it, ſince they were beholding unto him for the greateſt part of their well-beings. This was the cauſe, that they, in ſome ſort, ſuſpecting the Authours of this abominable Patricide, they did generally oppoſe themſelves againſt their deſignes, and negotiated ſo well, that Ardabures and Aſpar, being failed in their pretentions, a great Grecian was choſen Emperour, called Leon, and born in the Town of Beſtique: It is true, that their Faction being extreamly ſtrong, they would not conſent unto this election, but upon condition that the Raigns of the Empire, ſhould be for a time in the hands of Aſpar. Leon made no difficulty to receive him as a partner; but he made them all know preſently after, that Empiredom admits of no Competitours, and that when he conſented unto it, he promiſed no leſs then an impoſſibility.

In the mean time, Leon, amidſt his joyes to ſee the Empire of the Eaſt ſubmitted unto him. he did not forget what Vrſaces and Olimbres had done in his favour; and knowing that Martians affection unto them was very great, he thought it but juſt he ſhould ſucceed him, as well in his love to them, as in his crowns. Expreſſing himſelf then as kindly as poſſibly he could, he deſired them to continue their affections to him, and proteſted, that when any opportunities preſented themſelves, wherein he might honour them, he would prefer them before all other perſons whatſoever. Look now upon Leon for a while peaceable in the Eaſt, but ſo were not we in Africa: for Majoranus, who ſucceeded Maximus in the Empire of the Weſt, to get Sicily out of the hands of Genſerick who was become the Maſter of it, he made attempts that was worthy of his courage, and in his deſign (as they ſay) of coming to burn us in our houſes, he was miſerably murdered by the ſame Souldiers who made choice of him. His death, which ſhewed all the world how ſhort a while the favours of Fortune do laſt, did give us ſome reſt, and made Genſerick rouz up his former courage and deſigns: ſo as raiſing a Puiſſant Army, he put himſelf into a condition to reſiſt all men whom he accounted his enemies: And certainly his preparations were not in vain, for ſoon after the death of Majoranus Soverian, who ſucceeded him, prepared himſelf to proſecute the deſigns of his Predeceſſon [...]; but hearing of our forces, he preſently changed advice, and turned his arms againſt the Alans, whom he defeated near Bergamus, and there killed their King Beringus Perhaps this victory had blown up his courage, and carryed him upon ſome new enterprise againſt us; but his death, which was almoſt as ſudden as his Predeceſſours, thought not ſo violent, did at once ſtifle his deſigns and hopes upon Rome.

During this time, Genſerick, as I told you before, had ready ſhipt a brave and gallant Army, ſo as not to let it lie idle, he reſolved to give Rome a ſecond viſit, invited unto it (as I think) by the memory of his firſt ſpoils. His design was not ſo ſecretly carried, but the Emperour Leon was advertiſed of it, who, not to let Italy periſh in that diſorder wherein it then was, did ſend Anthemius to defend it from the invaſion of the Vandals. But Genſerick, who quickly knew that he ſhould be moleſted in his enterprize, by the pretentions of one Gervandus, who ſince was exiled, he haſted away; and having made Thraſimond Lieutenant General of his Army, did leave his other Son in Carthage, with an expreſs prohibition not to ordain any thing before he had communicated unto me, and taken my advice. I remained therefore by this means in Africa, where, if I had entertained any had intentions, I had not wanted means to put them in execution; but ever being an hater of all evil actions, I would ſooner have died then done them. Beſides thus, I did extreamly love Thraſimond and the young Prince, with whom I ſtayed as a Governour: ſo as the intereſt of this affection, was enough to make me forget the greateſt injuries I ever received from their Father.

Genſerick then embarqued himſelf, flattering himſelf with hopes, that his voyage would be no leſſe proſperous, then the conqueſt of all the world. But O, how fond and deceitful are all humane intentions? One ſingle day ſaw all this glory, and all this war like Array, vaniſh to nothing: for Leon, who feared that Anthemius was not ſtrong enough to reſiſt ſo formidable an Army, did haſte away relief under the conduct of one Baſiliſcus, who being, by the favour of the gods and the winds, joyned with him, did defeat Genſerick, and gave him [Page] ſo ſharp a chaſe, as he was conſtrained to retire into Carthage, with as much ſhame and infamy, as his ambition did before promiſe him glory and honour. In a very ſhort time, this Baſiliſcus made himſelf maſter of Sicily, and regained all that the conqueſts of Genſerick had raviſhed from the Romane power; but not contenting himſelf with thoſe Trophes which he had already gotten, whilſt Anthemius was returned to Rome, he deſigned to ſubjugate Africa, and not to leave Genſerick ſo much ground as to make himſelf a grave.

This reſolution did put Genſerick into a greater confuſion, then I am able to expreſſe: He ſaw all his Armies defeated, Baſiliſcus triumphant, Sicily loſt, the Vandals ruined, and all Africa affrighted: ſo as not knowing which way to reſiſt his enemy, one day he did me the honour to communicate himſelf unto me: I freely told him, that if he did not think himſelf able to defend himſelf by force, he had no other way but to have recourſe unto Pollicy, and that the moſt favourable expedient would be, to ſtop the mouth of his enemy by corrupting him with gifts and promiſes; and that though he ſpent herein all the riches that he had gotten by the plunder of Rome, yet would have this advantage by it, that he gave nothing but was their own, and had thereby preſerved his life and eſtate. This propoſition did ſound well in his ears, and thinking that perhaps I had wit enough to bring this about, he imployed me to go unto Baſiliſcus, and gave me a full power to manage this negotiation as ſeemed good unto me. Upon this I went, and found Baſiliſcus advanced very far; but not to inſiſt upon every circumſtance and courſe I took to overcome him; let it ſuffice I tell you, that after I had told him there was no prudence in exaſperating an enemy ſo far as to make him deſperate: That the greateſt glory he could hope for, was to get by his valour all that which Italy had loſt: That Genſerick did offer to reſtore it unto him, even all the riches that he had brought from Rome. This Man, who doubtleſſe was of a greedy and covetous Nature, was wrought upon by the promiſes which I had made unto him, to keep this negotiation ſo ſecret, that never any could come to the knowledge of it.

Thus did I in ſome ſort give peace unto Africa, and reſt unto Genſerick, who had no ſooner performed the conditions of this ſecret treaty; but Baſiliſcus, ſuſpected as I believe (for it is impoſſible ſuch actions ſhould long lie hid) was commanded by Leon to return unto Conſtantinople. This Emperour would never ſuffer neither Vrſaces nor Olimbres to be abſent from him: for truſting in their courages and affections, alſo ſuſpecting the Factions of Ardabures and Aſpar, he was very glad to keep them by him, as two Pillars to ſupport him in caſes of neceſſity; but at this time, when the malice of theſe two Factions had broken out anew, and Vrſaces and Olimbres, after ſeveral skirmiſhes, little prevailing, he was conſtrained to ſend for Baſiliſcus, who had under him the only forces which could ſecure him in the poſſeſſion of the Empire.

Baſiliſcus then, was no ſooner ſent for, but Vrſaces addreſſing himſelf unto Olimbres, and telling him how great a ſhame unto them it was, that they could not do any ſervice unto Leon, and that it was better for them to periſh in a brave attempt then to ſtay and let another have the glory of giving peace unto the Eaſt: to whom Olimbres, whoſe ſpirit aſpired unto great actions, anſwering that he was ready to avoid that ſtain upon their honours, they aſſembled together one day all the Forces they could raiſe, and charged Ardabures and Aſpar ſo furiouſly, that after a long and ſharp Combate, wherein the loſs of blood was the leaſt mark of their courages, they took them both Priſoners, and brought them to the mercy of Leon, who to ſtop all fears of any further Rebellion, did publickly put them to death.

This was the ſtate of things, whilſt Anthemius found how far the perfidie and ingratitude of a man could go: for Rithimer, a Goth by Nation, whom Severian had made a Citizen of Rome, and Lieutenant of his Army, and unto whom Anthemius married his daughter, he roſe up againſt him; and forgetting all the benefits which he had received from his father in Law, he ſtrove at the Empire, and endeavoured to uſurp the Crown and Authority. Anthemius, more grieved at his ill Nature, then at his pretentions, did generously oppose himſelf againſt his enterpriſes, [Page] and had no ſooner advertiſed Leon of Rithimers ingratitude, but the Emperor diſpatched Olimbres to him, to deliver him from the oppreſſions of this kinſman-enemy. But the doom of the deſtinies being inevitable, ſome accident or other impeded the voyage of Olimbres ſo as he came no farther then Ravenna, when Rithimer, having violated the peace which he contracted with Anthemius only to have the more facility to betray him did rebell a new: defeated Belemer, who came with relief unto Anthemius; Entred into Room: plundered the houſes: Pillaged the ſtatly Palaces, burned the Temples, and miſerbaly put him to the ſword who had done him ſo many benefits.

This violence had like to have killed Olimbres with greif, and the more becauſe he conceaved that he might have ſtopped his comming unto Rome. But this horrid cruelty did incenſe the gods much more, who being unwilling to ſuffer ſuch abominable iniquity, and baſe treachery to paſſe unpuniſhed, they would never ſuffer ſuch an impious wretch to raign, but let him die the moſt violent death that ever did man.

Olimbres preſently after, was declared Emperor, and called unto Rome as the only hope of that deſolate eſtate: which news quickly carried unto Carthage, and was ſo welcome unto Genſerick, and Thraſimond, becauſe of the affection which they ever bare unto him that they reſolved to give ſome perticular teſtimony of their joy: For my part, I muſt confeſſe my joyes were far above my expreſſions or any imagination, and in my exceſſe of gladneſſe I thought a thouſand times of that which an Aſtrologer foretold him, (which was, that he ſhould not die untill he was made Emperor, and had commanded the Empire of the weſt) not bring able to comprehend how it was poſſible any mortall man could without a miracle have ſuch perfect knowledge of future things. At laſt, after I had long thought upon it, I found the proverbe true, which ſayes, that as one miſfortune is alwayes followed with another, ſo very often one good fortune is accompanied with another: for Genſerick, who as I ſaid before, reſolved to make appear his joyes at the advancement, and good fortune of Olimbres he would add unto my joyes at this news, another; whith was, to be a witneſſe of it. He commanded me then, to prepare my ſelf for this voyage: and I ſwimming in ſuch delights as this encounter did promiſe me, hoping that happily, it would make Placidia come to Rome, and that Eudixe, and Ʋrſaces might meet there alſo, in two dayes I ſet all things in ſuch good order, that I was ready to part away. Genſerick provided a Ship purpoſly for me, in which, he put ſome men of war, and loadned me with ſo many rich preſents for Olimbres, as I may moſt truly ſay, I never ſaw ſo much riches togeather in my life. So after Genſerick, Thraſimond, and his Brother had committed me to the protection of the gods, we weighed Anchor: our Marrinors ſang himnes to the honour of Neptune, and preſently after we loſt the ſight of Carthage, ſome Merchants wich traffiqued into Italy, joyned themſelves with us: and having as favorable a Gale as we could wiſh, every one had good hopes in the concluſion our voyage, ſince the beginning was ſo proſperous.

Thus we ſailed ſome dayes without any impediment: but as if the Dieties of the Sea, who live in a perpetuall inconſtancy, were angry at our happineſs, we quickly found, that the intervall between proſperity, and adverſity is but very ſmale: Indeed, with in your ſpace of one hower we ſaw the little curle that was upon the face of the water turned into Mountainous billowes, upon that humide element, which loſing themſelves in one another, did ſeem to juſtle, and ſtrive which ſhould give the greateſt ſhoke againſt our Ship. The winds which before ſwelled one ſailes which a gentle breath, turned into contrarys, and began a war amongſt themſelves, and contended which ſhould firſt overturn us. Yet we found worſe enemyes then all theſe: the air at the ſame time became obſcure, and afforded us no light but lightning, affrighting voyces of thunder, & flaming flaſhes of lightning ſet fire upon ſome of our Ships, which we ſaw burning in the midſt of the waves, whilſt it was impoſſible for us to ſave one man, for ſuch as thought to avoid the flames, were immediatly ſwallowed up by the waves. In this horrid confuſion, the Pilats did abondon themſelves unto the mercy of the enraged Sea: [Page] and the Marriners having no hopes of any ſafty but in their prayers, they cut their maſts and cordage, and left all to violence of the wind and waves. For my part, I muſt needs confeſſe that in this danger, death did never preſent it ſelf unto me with a more grime contenance, and it grieved me extreamly that I was to end my dayes before I had enjoyed the happineſs of ſeeing Olimbres. This tempeſt laſted eight whole dayes, during which I may ſay we hardly ever ſaw, any day or light: ſometimes we were rouled one way, ſometimes another, and ſeemed only as if it were to make choiſe of a place for Shipwrack, for every where we found the ſame dangers. At laſt, that Ship wherin I was, being bigger, and ſtronger then any of the reſt, and the laſt the periſhed, it claſhed againſt ſome rockes toward the Maſſilian coaſt; and as if Neptune had reſerved us for the laſt victime, as ſoon as ever our Ship was ſhevered to pieces, the air cleared up; the ſtormes ceaſed, and the Sea was calm: Thoſe whom fear had not killed, did periſh as I think with the Ship: and I, who was reſolved to keep my ſelf alive as long as I could, I took a little wooden Goffer, wherin I kept ſome oyntments, and eſſenſes to help ſuch as ſtood in need of them, and with it I caſt my ſelf into the water: My deſign was to ſwim as long as my ſtrength laſted, aſſuring my ſelf that I ſhould prolong my life two or three howers, and perhaps the gods during that time might ſend ſome help. Thus, ſometimes ſuſtained by my little wooden Coffer, and ſometimes ſwimming, I perceived that I was not far diſtant from the rock againſt which our Ship was ſplit; Then I aſſumed freſh courage, and ſtrength and by the help of heaven which never forſook me in any neceſſity I came to the place where I deſired to be. I was no ſooner out of the water, but being both weary, and wet, I put off all my cloathes, and lay my ſelf down by them, which I did not put on again untill the Sun had dryed them. From hence did I ſee floating in the Sea the reliques of our Shipwrack: and after I had a little contemplated upon the misfortune which had cauſed ſo many men, and ſo much wealth to periſh, I began to conſider alſo that my own fate was not much more favourable, ſince I ſaw that my life could not be preſerved long upon that rock, ſo naked as I was, and without any ſupply of food againſt hunger. Yet ſtill hoping in the goodneſs of heaven whoſe anger was appeaſed, I ſtrove againſt this greedy Monſter all the reſt of the day, and all the night following: and the next morning, when my heart began to faint for want of food, I reſolved to make uſe of my eſſenſes, of which when I came from Carthage, I had made good proviſion; I laid my hand then upon the little Coffer never remembring that I had left the key of it in the Ship. And therefore when I ſaw I could not open it, I reſolved to break it: but I had no ſooner lifted it up to daſh it againſt the rock, then I conſidered that the force of the blow would infallibly break all the glaſſes, and ſpill the eſſenſes. Upon this thought I laid the boxe at my feet, and lifting up my eyes unto heaven to aske ſome help, I eſpied a Ship under full ſaile, and which being very well equipaged, ſeemed as if ſhe had not been at Sea during the time of the ſtorm. I began preſently to crye out as loud as ever I could: but I quickly ſound my voice was to no purpoſe, and that it was impoſſible it ſhould reach ſo far: Therefore putting off my ſhirt, I waved it in the air, like a banner; which I had not done above half a quarter of an hower or there about, but I perceived them to untye the Cockboate, and row towards me with four or five men only in it.

Judge how I was joyed at this: indeed I am not able to expreſs how much: but ſo it was, that I haſted to dreſſe my ſelf, and in my feares, leaſt ſome new misfortune ſhould hinder me of this relief which ſeemed to be ſo near me, I thought that they did not row ſo faſt as they might have done: yet in leſſethen half an hower they came unto the rock where I was, and they were no ſooner come but I leaped into the boate, never remembring the boxe which was when all my fortune, and the only remedy I had left to comfort me againſt the injury of the water. Yet after my ſpirits were a little recollected I began to think upon the important things that were with in it, and therefore entreated the men to return back, and ſo they did very willingly. It was not long before we came to the Ship which had ſent me this relief, where I received from every one ſuch expreſſions of joy, as made in evident, that the life of a man was of no little conſideration [Page] in their minds; ſome of them gave my Bisket and Wine, other ſome, ſalted meate, and thus did they very charitably feed me in my extreamity of hunger. After this, they deſired me to tell them all the particulars of my ſhipwrack, which they hearkened unto with amazement; and preſently after, night did invice us all to reſt.

Thus whilſt every one was preparing themſelves for ſleep, two of thoſe who had releived me did come unto me, and invited me to reſt my ſelf in a Cabine: I durſt not refuſe this kind offer, thinking it not fit to diſobey them in any thing, after ſuch a benefit received. Thus I conſented unto all they deſired; and as ſoon as we were all three ſate down, the firſt of them, who ſeemed to be ſo ready and joyful to do me any ſervice, after a thouſand thanks unto him for it, I was very deſireous to know his name; He anſwered, that he was called Palemon, and that he was a Seguſian: Then calling to memory what I had heard concerning the Adventures of Ʋrſaces, and remembring that a man of that Country and (as I thought) of the ſame name, had formerly ſaved him from killing himſelf, I asked him whether he was not the man, who in Italy had done that good office for the Caveleir: He told me no; but true it was, that a Seguſian did reſcue Ʋrſaſes from the Arms of death; but his name was Celadon, and not Palemon; But however, (continued I) I do find by the help you have afforded, that the gods are friends unto your Country, ſince they have made all the men in it ſo charitable and kind: and doubtleſs this laſt action of yours to me, will find from Heaven a great reward; and be aſſured, that as far as I am able, Olicarſis ſhall never be found ungrateful.

At the name of Olicarſis, he that was on the other ſide me, and almoſt aſleep, did ſtart up, and turning himſelf towards me, did ask me whether or no I named Olicarſis, and what I ſaid of him: to whom I anſwered, that I did name him, and that it was in aſſuring Palemon that I would upon all occaſions be ready to acknowledge the good office he had done me: Do you bear the name of that man, who is ſo highly eſteemed in the world? (ſaid he unto me) who cannot want friends in what place ſoever you can go? To this I anſwered as modeſtly as I could; but to omit the relation of that good opinion which he had of me, and what he ſaid in my advantage; I will only tell you, that I was acknowledged to be the man whom they looked after. And after I had received the Letter from Damon, and told them I was able to ſatiſfie that deſire which moved them to undertake this voyage; I made them all ſo full of joy, as they could hardly ſleep that night.

They underſtood that my deſign was to go unto Rome to viſit Olimbres; ſo as telling me it would not be a long and difficult Journy by Land; and that if I would ſee Damon, and Forreſts by the way, I ſhould not go above four days journey out of my way; I conſented to go by Land, and ſo accordingly we did about break of day.

Then they began to ſpeak unto me concerning Celideas cure, and ſhewed unto me, the little bloody ſticks; but the hopes which I had that I ſhould ere long dreſs the wounds themſelves, made me deſire them to defer this cure until we came there. Upon this, they preſſed me no further; but knowing that I had a deſire to ſee the City of the Maſſilians, becauſe there Ʋrſaſes, and Olimbres did demand the poiſon, they went thither with me; And from thence paſſing unto the Country of Allobroges we came to Vallence, where the Beauty of the place inviting us to ſtay a day, beſides many other rarities, there we ſaw the Tomb of Tullia, the Daughter of Cicero; and then a large and high Arch, under a hill, where, they ſay, one of her Lovers did ſhed ſo many tears, that the god of Love did turn them into a Fountain, which was never ſince dry. From thence we left upon our left hand, a ſtately Caſtle, which, they ſay was built by Turnus: Afterwards following upon the Roſn, night did ſurpriſe us within three Leagues of Vienna. We were then conſtrained to go no further, becauſe we were to paſs through a thick and dangerous wood; and the danger was the greater, becauſe the Army of the Francks being diſ-banded, many Souldiers waited for paſſengers, and either robbed or killed them; But ſee how hard a matter it is to [Page] avoid the decrees of Fate: The next morning ſetting out betimes, and not gone above half a League, we were met by a dozen or fifteen of theſe Rovers. At the firſt the ſeemed to begg ſomething of us; but we no ſooner ſeemed willing to beſtow ſomething upon them, but three of the ſturdieſt of them ſeized upon the bridles of our Horſes; and the reſt falling pell mell us, pulled us to the ground. Halladiue made as good reſiſtance as he could, and ſo did Palemon alſo, who drawing out his Sword upon a ſudden, no ſooner ſaw his hand upon his Bridle, but he quite cut off the hand at one blow: But it being a thing impoſſible for ſo few to reſiſt ſo many, eſpecially ſo many well armed men who, beſides their Swords, had compleat Arms and Daggers; this reſiſtance did but the more incenſe them, ſo as they reſolved to kill us all. Then they carried us upon the left hand into the thickeſt part of the wood; where ſtripping us of all our cloaths, not leaving us ſo much as our Shirts, they tyed our hands behind us, and then tyed us every one unto a ſeveral Tree. There Palemon found their Barbarity; for he whoſe hand he had cut off, being extream impatient of revenge, he no ſooner ſaw tyed, but going unto him; This hand (ſaid he, and ſhewed him his right hand) ſhall puniſh thee for the loſs of the other. In ſaying ſo, he ſtabbed him moſt inhumanely, five or ſix times into the body: He was tyed ſo near unto me, as I could ſee his eyes bid me the laſt adieu; for (having handkerchiefs tyed before our mouths leaſt we ſhould cry out) we could not ſpeak.

I who thought that Palemon had only got a minutes ſtart of me, I confeſs that I anſwered him only with my eyes alſo, and prepared my ſoul to follow him without ſorrow. But I cannot tell whether my age did infuſe ſome reſpect into theſe Rogues, or whether it was my deſtiny to dye laſt; but ſo it was, that as ſoon as ever Palemon had given up his laſt breath, they turned towards Halladine; and as they were ready to make him feel the fury of their Arms, upon a ſudden one amongſt them, who ſeemed to have ſome command over the reſt, did make a ſign unto his companions to hold their hands, and that he had ſomething to ſay unto him. Upon this command they ſtayed, and this man comming nearer Halladine to take away the handkerchief from his mouth, he asked him from whence he came, and from whom? from Roſilion, anſwered he; and what did you before you came away? (asked the man) I was (ſaid Halladine) at the Temple: And did none ſpeak unto you? (ſaid the man) Halladine then thinking a little upon it, no, replied he, none except a young Souldier, who told me he was at the taking of Calice, and having no means to carry him honeſtly into his own Country, was forced to implore the charity of well-diſpoſed people: Did you give him any thing? (ſaid the man) I gave him ſaid Halladine, a little piece of money, which was all I had about me: Very well (ſaid the man preſently) this ſhall be either thy life or thy death. In ſaying ſo, he turned towards his companions, and perſwaded with them ſo far, as he obtained the life of Halladine; but leaſt he ſhould accuſe them, or make them known, they ſtopped his mouth, blinded his eyes, and untying him from the Tree, they ſet him upon his horſe, wich his face towards the horſes tail, his arms tyed behind him, and his leggs tyed under the belly of the horſe. In this equipage they let him go, and broke out into extream laughter at him: And whilſt they wery thus buſie about Halladine, three or four of them were ſearching in my Pockets for the key of my box, which was behind my Saddle, and preſently after, others came to butcher me: But when they were within three or four paces of the Tree where I was tyed, we heard a great out-cry, as of one that was extreamly affrighted: Fear preſently began to ſeize upon them, and not knowing from what cauſe this noiſe miget proceed, they preſently began to fly away as faſt as they could, and the faſter, becauſe they ſuppoſed that Halladine had brought ſome to ſurpriſe them.

Thus they were no ſooner out of my ſight, but turning mine eye towards the place from whence this hideous out-cry came, I eſpyed through the Trees; one ſingle man, whoſe affright had made his eyes look wilde and wandring: ſometimes he held his hands claſped together, ſometimes he would lift them [Page] up to his hair, as if he would pull it off: otherwhiles, he would fall down upon his knees, as if he would beg for mercy: afterwards he would riſe up again, and run ten or twelve paces as faſt as ever he could, ſtill crying out in a moſt lamentable tone, and complaining moſt pittifully. He was no ſooner come near me, but I deſired to ſpeak, and intreat his help; but the handkerchief before my mouth would not let me, and beſides, I ſaw him fall down to the ground, without either ſenſe or motion. At firſt I thought him dead, but preſently after, hearing him breath, as one that was extreamly oppreſſed in his ſtomach, I knew that he was ſtill alive. Judge, I beſeech you, in what condition I was now, and how perplexed I was at his ſleep, for my fears that theſe Rogues would come again and finiſh their wicked deſign, did make me think his ſleep to be twice as long as it was: for indeed he continued not in this Lethargy above two howers, during which time, I had ſtill for my entertainment, the horrours of a death almoſt inevitable, and the object of Palemons ſad adventure.

In the mean time Halladine was returned to the Town, from whence we came in the morning; for his horſe took that way as ſoon as he felt himſelf at liberty: And certainly, it was a pleaſant and deplorable paſtime to behold, for being ſtark naked, and tied, as I told you before, all the little children followed him, and the people ran in the ſtreets laughing at this odd ſpectacle; and, I believe, it would have been long before he had found any help, if by Fortune a Sacrificer going unto the Temple, and being aſhamed to ſee a man in that condition, had not ſtopped his horſe, and thrown a long cloak upon Halladine. Preſently after, he untied him, and as ſoon as he could ſpeak, he related unto him the accident which had happened with ſo many ſighs and tears, that the Sacrificer being moved unto compaſſion, and the people all about him, not being able to endure ſuch a horrid action, they all preſently armed themſelves to try if they could apprehend thoſe that had unworthily uſed him.

This hapned at the ſame time when the man who fell down by me in a ſwound did awaken; and God knows how afraid I was, that he would have continued on his way without relieving me: At laſt, by good Fortune he turned his eyes towards me, and ſeeing me in that condition, near a corps with many wounds, he was ſo ſurprized that he ſtood immoveable, I perceived by his eyes, that ſleep had ſettled his mind, for he did not look ſo wild and rovingly; but ſeeing him full of compaſſion, mixed with amazement, I began to hope that he would take ſome pity upon me; and indeed, he came preſently to unlooſe me, and helped me unto my clothes: I was no ſooner dreſt, but thanking him for the good office he had done me, I told him the whole ſuccess of our diſaſter. He ſeemed to be very much concerned at the miſfortune of Palemon; and adviſing me to return unto the place from whence I came in the morning, to take order for Palemons funeral, he offered to accompany me. I took his councel, and getting upon my horſe, I deſired him to get upon Palemons, which the Thieves had not carryed away, leſt, as I believe, he ſhould have deſeryed them: We were no ſooner got into the high way, but we met above two hundred perſons which Halladine conducted thither. Halladine did think to find me dead, and therefore as ſoon as ever he ſaw me, he took me about the neck, and did me a thouſand Carreſſes. After this, we went to the place where Palemon lay, whom we no ſooner ſaw, but Halladine and I were ready to with him for grief.

At laſt, having given him an honourable Funeral, we went unto Vienna. There Halladine taking me aſide, and telling me how many impediments might happen in the cure of Celidea; he preſſed me to give Damon that contentment: ſo as the next morning I took his little bloody ſticks, and dreſſed them as I would have done the wounds themſelves.

I doubted not but a preſent good effect would follow: for in the compoſition of this ſalve, which I brought in a little box for Olimbres, I had not omitted any ingredient which would not make extreamly ſubtil: and by good Fortune, when I came from Carthage, it was not above a month before I had finished that making of it, though it was a whole year before I began it: for beſides the oyles which were to be extracted, as the oyl of Flax, and the oyl of Roſes, there was yet required [Page] Bol-Armianian, Mans blood, Mummy, Mans greaſe, and the moſs which grows in the ſcull of a man long expoſed to the air. So I had no ſooner dreſſed thoſe little ſticks, but we parted; and the man who had relieved me, hearing me name Forreſts unto Halladine, he beſeeched us to let him go with us; but becauſe I thought every moment upon the danger from which he had releaſed me, as ſoon as we were got into the way, I asked him as civilly as I could, what good Fortune had brought him thither ſo opportunely, and from whence proceeded that rapture wherein I ſaw him? he lifted up his eyes preſently to heaven, and afterwards caſting them upon me, with a deep ſigh: Alas (ſaid he unto me) that which you do call a rapture, is rather a juſt puniſhment which the gods have inflicted upon me, for the expiation of my ſins: But ſince you deſire the diſcourse of it, though my diſeaſe be beyond all hopes of cure, I will obey you, provided you permit me to ſtay no longer upon the relation of it then I deſire, left the remembrance of it do drive me into the ſame extremities, wherein you ſaw me: Upon this, whilſt Halladine was in deep ſtudy, ſome thirty paces from us, he began his relation thus.

Know, Father, that my name is Azahides: the place of my birth is amongſt the Allobroges: My Father was one who ever held a conſiderable rank in that Town, which ſtands upon the Lake of Leman▪ When I was hardly capable of reaſon, and when that Province was involved in many troubles, becauſe they would take from Gondioch all that he had on this ſide the Rhyne, they did put arms into my hands, when I had hardly ſo much ſtrength as to ſuſtain them: After the expiration of ſome time, a truce was made, which laſted ſome yeares: During which, my Father conſidering, that he had no child but me for the ſtay of his Family and age, he reſolved to marry me; and ſo indeed he did unto a very fair and handſome wife, whom I kept not above a year, for the died in child-bed after ſhe had left me a daughter, as a pledge of her love. Preſently after, the great captain Aetius had the government of Gaul; and renewing the firſt deſigns which the Romanes had againſt us, he prepared himſelf for the execution of them. This was the reaſon that Abariell (for that was my fathers name) could never keep me with him: for my humour (which found ſome particular ſatiſfaction in blood and ſlaughter) was ſtronger them all, the perſwaſions he uſed to hinder me from leaving him: So I parted from him, and until the time that Aetius had command to leave us in peace, I was alwayes in every combate, at the taking of all Towns, and in every dangerous enterprize that was to be executed. One time amongſt the reſt, much plunder falling to my ſhare, I gave it all in exchange of a young boy called Silvander, about five or ſix yeares of age, and who, they told me, was ſtollen from ſome place beyond the Rhoſne, and in the Province of Vienna. The aſpect of this child did pleaſe me ſo exceedingly well, as I reſolved to give him as good education as poſſibly I could, and afterwards to take him home unto me, as a man that was obliged unto me for his life. In order hereunto, peace was no ſooner concluded, but I ſent for him to my houſe, and ſhewed him unto my Father, as the beſt booty that ever I got. But here, I beſeech you, obſerve a very ſtrange effect of divine Providence: This child, whom I deſtiny'd unto perpetual ſervitude, no ſooner appeared in my Fathers eye, but conſidering the little comfort he had in me, by reaſon of my turbulent and ſtirring Nature, he reſolved to bring up this boy, and to eſtablish upon him the foundation of all his hopes. This reſolution was not ſo cloſe, but it came to my knowledge; ſo as beginning to foreſee what might afterwards happen, I began alſo to uſe all my Art for ſtopping the courſe of this growing good will. But all my plots and devices were in vain; for my Father, taking him from me as his own, did ſend him to the Maſſilian ſchools, where he grew ſo good a proficient, and ſo every way accompliſhed, as for all my envy of him, I could not chuſe but confeſſe, that my Father could not place his affection upon an object more worthy of eſteem. Yet, all my Fathers eſtate being in his own free diſpoſition, and fearing left he ſhould diſpoſe of it, as well as of his affection, to my diſadvantage, I deſigned not only to oppoſe his Fortune, but againſt his life alſo, if occaſion did offer it self.

[Page]In the mean time, the daughter which I had, was no leſs grown in beauty then ſhe was in body and wit: ſo as then, being fit for marriage, my Father made a propoſition to marry her unto Silvander. And indeed, I took this as an occaſion of my revenge: for having commanded my daughter to make my Father believe, that I would never give my conſent unto it; and told her, that it was better for her to marry him ſecretly; I contrived it ſo, that poor Silvander appointed a certain hour in the night when he would come, and that he ſhould come up a rope-ladder in at a window which is over the Lake: At the hour appointed I came into the chamber, I cut the rope when he was half up, and let him fall into the water like a ſtone, ſo he was never heard of ſince.

You may well judge Father, that though I had no other ſin but this▪ yet this was enough to merit from the gods a moſt ſevere puniſhment; but, as if heaven would ſet me out unto men, as an example of avarice and cruelty, I was loadned with other burthens more heavy and intollerable. Know then, Father, that as ſoon as Silvander was drown'd, I was the firſt that would needs run unto the place where the noiſe was, and commanding my daughter, upon pain of death, to ſay that the cord did break of it ſelf: I did caſt the fault upon the effect, whereof indeed I my ſelf was the ſole cauſe. My daughter did not fail me, and after I had looked out at the window, I went unto Abariel, and acquainted him with this ſad accident. At the firſt he broke out into tears and cries, and afterwards finding his ſorrows to be remedileſs, he fell into ſuch a deep ſwound, as I thought he would have rendred up his ſpirit: We put him therefore into his bed, where reviving again, he fixed his eyes upon me a long while together: afterwards, with a deep ſigh ah Azahides (ſaid he unto me) confeſs the truth; are not thy plots the cauſe of this death? Then having compoſed my face into a ſeeming ſorrow, I anſwered no, and that I would ſooner have conſented unto my own death, then have procured him ſo much diſcontent: Well, well, (replied he) the gods are Judges which cannot be corrupted nor deceived, if thou beeſt innocent of this crime, I beſeech them to pardon thee, as I do all the reſt of thy diſobedient courſes, which thou haſt committed againſt me; but if thou beeſt guilty, I beſeech them to meaſure their puniſhments according to thy offences. In ſaying this, his voice began to fail him, and ſome of our friends and kindred, who came in upon the noiſe, did all that poſſibly they could no comfort him. But he being old and decrepite, he was ſo feeble to undergo this grief, as we all thought he would not out live that night: which my daughter ſeeing, ſhe came unto him, and whiſpered him in the ear a long time together. I was afraid once that ſhe had betrayed me, for ſhe only was a witneſs of my wicked act; but certainly, had I thought ſhe would have told him, I would never have ſuffered her to ſpeak unto him: this made me obſerve their motions very exactly, and ſhould have found, if the diſcourſe had exaſperated him; but on the contrary, the mind of Abariel grew more ſettled and ſtrong: yet falling again into his firſt weakneſs, Daughter (ſaid he unto her, and took her hand) you ſee I have not life enough to ſatisfie my ſelf of what you tell me, and therefore I will believe, that this remedy which you would give unto my weakneſse, proceeds rather from pity of my pain, then from any truth which obliges you to tell me ſo. Let me die therefore, dear daughter, and if I have any power over you, go and obey this my laſt command: Go this very hour unto my brother (ſaid he, and pointed unto my uncle) I will leave him enough to ſee you well provided for; but above all, never live with your Father again, at leaſt as little as you can, for he will never be a good example of honour and virtue unto you. Upon this he kiſſed her, and deſired my uncle to carry her away, which he did accordingly. Afterwards, turning himſelf towards me: I do leave unto you (ſaid he unto me) that eſtate which you have ſo greedily gaped after, I adviſe you to remember this; That you will never be leſſe rich, then when you greedily deſire to be more. I know not what ſecret opinion the gods have inſpired into my mind; but I ſhall die extreamly ill ſatisfied with your deportment; I pray God all my apprehenſions be falſe, but if they be true, I will be an eternal torment to thy conſcience.

Theſe words, which he had much ado to utter, were almoſt the laſt he ſpoke: [Page] for he had no ſooner pronounced the word Adieu, but his ſoul expired. This did ſhake my very ſoul; for afterwards I ſeemed to be almoſt as dead as he, and I began to repent of the crime which I had committed: yet ſhrowding the reſentments of my crime, as well as poſſibly I could, under thoſe teares which I might well ſhed for the death of a Father, I carryed the matter ſo well, that in lieu of condemning me, they commended me for the grief I expreſſed at his death.

I built a very honourable monument for him ſutable to his quality: as ſoon as the laſt ceremonies were performed, I began to plot how I ſhould ſtifle all memory of my fault, imagining that I ſhould never be at reſt as long as there remained any in the World that was able to diſcover it: ſo as I fell almoſt upon the moſt barbarous deſign that ever entered into the thoughts of man: and being reſolved to truſt all things unto your diſcretion, I muſt tell you that I was upon the point of preparing poyſon to give my Daughter, when I heard that they had placed her amongſt the Veſtals bordering upon the Lake, under the charge of one called Bellinde.

Thus finding my ſelf at once, without Father without Daughter, but not without ſome feares of my treaſon againſt Silvander to be one day diſcovered, I began to enjoy the eſtate which Abariel left me. But I preſently found that my Father was a true prophet, and that there is no man rich which is not contented: for ſince the accrue of ſo great an eſtate, I found my ſelf a thouſand times poorer then when I had leſſe. When I thought to put in execution any of thoſe deſignes which moved me unto a deſire of enjoying my Fathers poſſeſſions, I found an impoſſibility in doeing it, eyther in the thing it ſelf, or in my own humour: for when I wiſhed my ſelf maſter of an eſtate that I might make good chear, though I had the eſtate, yet I wanted the ſtomack; and ever ſince Abariel dyed, I was never preſented with any meat which went not againſt my appetite: If I wiſhed it to entertain my friends, I conſidered that I had no friend in all the World; for being concious of my crime, I thought all men to be judges, and that my own kindred never came unto me, but to carry me unto condign puniſhment. Thus finding no peace in any ſociety, I betook my ſelf unto ſolitude, and in order to that, retired my ſelf unto a houſe which I had in the Country: but which way ſoever I went, ſtill my ſin followed me, and gave me no more reſt there then in another place: and as if heaven would make my ſelf my own puniſher, nothing did come into my mind for a whole month together; but the thoughts of my crime, and of the puniſhment which I was to ſuffer for it. This did ſo much trouble me as I did by degrees find, that my reaſon was loſt in the violence of this reſentment: for as I ſaid before, no meat goeing down with a good ſtomack, the ſmale nouriſhment which I received by it, helped much to the impairing of my judgment and health. I ſtrove a while againſt this growing diſease: But the gods whoſe hands lay heavy upon me did quickly ſhew me that they can inflict greater paines upon mortals then the loſs of their wits and reaſon: for one night when I had ſhut my ſelf in my Chamber, and laid down upon my bed in hopes to take ſome reſt, it being long ſince I had any, me thought: But why do I ſay, me thought, ſince what I ſhall tell you I did hear, I ſay I did hear the dore open with a hidious noiſe: and as ſoon as I caſt my eye that way to ſee what the matter was, I ſaw Abariel bloody in ſeverall places, holding in one hand a candle lighted, and in the other a heart pierced with three or four knives: he had before him one of the furies, and two others on each ſide one: all three carrying candles as he did: and armed in their other hands with whips, god knowes how much this fight ſurpriſed me, and more his approach for comming to my bed: Azahides (ſaid he) doſt thou ſee this heart all pierced and wounded? It is the very ſame which the wounds of thy diſobedience did murder: and becauſe the gods would not have the to loſe thy ſhare of bliſſe in the ſecond life, they have ſent me to puniſh thee unto repentance in this world, for a crime whereof thy own conſcience does accuſe the: after he had ſaid ſo, he retired back two or three paces, making a ſign unto the furies which accompanied him: They preſently ſeiſed upon me: and whilſt one cauſed ſerpents to gnaw upon my breſt, another burned me with the candle, and the third did laſh me ſo with a whip, that the more I cryed, [Page] and complained, the more her rage and fury encreaſed. I cannot tell what I did not to molifie the ſoul of my Father; I caſt my ſelf a hundred times at his feet, but when I thought to embrace his legges, I felt nothing but air, becauſe he fled from me, fearing (as I think) that my torment would end with his anger: I continued in this torment above an hover; after which, ſo deep a ſleep did ſeiſe upon me, as it laſted untill day: when I wakned, imagining to find my body all marked with the paines that I had endured, I was all amazed, when I found not one ſign of any ſuch torments as I felt. This made me think, that this revenge was divine, ſince my ſoul only reſented it: and thinking that ſacrifices might work ſome good effects, I offered many; But for all them my malady continued: ſo as commonly every eight day, I endured the ſame torment; at laſt, not being able to live in ſuch extremity I was inſpired to go, and conſult with an Oracle, which gave me this anſwer.

The Oracle.

GO, Azahides, unto a place which Neptune

Was conſtrained to forſake:

There a ſtranger ſpeaking of thy Fortune

Shall make the Nymphes aſtoniſhed:

But mark my words, for never think

Thy torments, Azahides, ere ſhall end.

Unto the ſame who makes thee culpable

Of homicide, ſhall ſee and pardon thee.

This Oracle (out of which I could not collect any thing, but that I ſhould nere be cured untill he whom I had killed did ſee me, and had pardoned my crime) did put me into ſuch a confuſion, as in effect ſeeing it altogether impoſſible, my fury augmented: Yet an old prophet telling me that I muſt never diſpair in the goodneſs of the gods, and that if ever I found any remedy it would be only in Forreſts, my ſpirit was a little calmed. I ſet forward therefore immediatly: and was no ſooner entred into the wood where I found you yeſterday but I ſaw the ſame Abariel again with the ſame furies, juſt in the way in which was to go; I ran preſently into the thick of the wood in hopes to avoid meeting this diſmall object: but he quickly overtook me, and as if my flight offended him, I was never ſo much tormented as I was then; This was the cauſe of that tranſport, and rapture wherein you ſaw me, which moved you unto as much compaſſion as admiration, and which made me to cry out as you did hear: glad I am that it did produce ſo good an effect as the ſaving of your life, and it ſhall be the more pleaſing to me as long as I live.

This (ſaid Olicarſis) was all that Azahides told me there; And though I did abſolutly believe that all this fury was only an effect of an imagination extreamly wounded, yet I could not chuſe but judge, upon the ſight of the Oracle which he made me read two or three times over, that it would be very difficult to find a remedy againſt his diſeaſe. And indeed, as we were walking together in this wood, this tranſport took him again, and forced him unto ſuch ſtrange actions, as it was impoſſible to ſee him without abundance of horror, and extream pity.

Adamas did harken all this while with extream attention; The gods (ſaid he) are ſo juſt and good, as they do never inflict more miſeryes upon men, then they give power to ſupport them: This may be ſeen in Azahides, who for all his furious torments yet ſubſiſts: Now you muſt know, that this Silvander whom he thinks to be dead is not ſo: for being advertiſed by his own Daughter of the treaſon indented againſt him, he tyed his own clothes fall of ſand unto the rope, and when he heard them fall into the water, he eſcaped away.

This made me conceive, that of what quality ſoever his diſeaſe was, whether [Page] in imagination or otherwiſe, it may be ſpeedily cured, ſince Silvander, who has been many months in this Country, will certainly look kindly upon him, and not deny him the pardon, upon which the cure depends: Thus do we ſee the full accompliſhment of the Oracle, ſince this is the place where Neptune quitted, when Caeſar did cut a Mountain, through which the waters which over-flowed all this Country, did run out: And you are the ſtranger the relation of whoſe fortune did amaze the Nymphs; for moſt of theſe whom you ſee here in the habit of Shepherdeſſes, are indeed the Nymphs of Amaſis, the Lady and Miſtriſs of theſe Provinces.

Olicarſis was extreamly ſurpriſed, and contented both, at the Druids diſcourſe, and beſeeched him to make as much haſte as he could, that Azahides might receive ſo great a benefit: Therefore Adamas entreating Celadon to go and fetch Silvander; That Shepherd found him walking another walk, with Lycydas, Doris, Adraſtes, and ſome others, not preſuming to come where Roſanira and Galathea was, leaſt he ſhould interrupt them. As soon as Celadon related unto him part of what he had heard, and having brought him unto Adamas, Azahides, returned out of his Lethargy, who ſeeing ſo much company ſo neer him, offered to go away; But Olicarſis and Adamas, ſtayed him, and after ſome diſcourſe, did let him underſtand, that his torments were now near their end; unto which Azahides giving no credit, they preſented Silvander unto him, whom he preſently knew, though he was much changed as well in condition as habit, who proſtrating himſelf before him, he did nothing a long while but ſhed tears, at the memory of what he had attempted againſt his person: At the laſt, Silvander embraced him with much reſpect, and did ſo freely Forgive him that offence, as he was comforted in his mind, ſo as carrying this news unto his daughter, who was confined amongſt the Veſtals, he never was troubled in mind with thoſe torments any more.

The Relation of Olicaſis, and that which had hapned unto Celadon, unto Silvander, unto Aſtrea, and unto Diana, as well at the Fountain of Verity, as ſince they were brouget unto the houſe of Adamas, had taken up ſo much of the day, as it was almoſt night when Amaſis, who was already come unto the Pallace of Iſoures, did ſend a Coach unto Galathea, that ſhe might come thither with Roſanira, Dorinde, and the reſt of the company.

The Druid, who was in hopes of their company that night, was very ſorry ſorry that Amaſis had debatred him of that happineſs; yet not daring to complain, becauſe obedience vnto the Nymph was but his duty, he conſented unto their departure; and waiting upon them part of the way, he beſeeched them to honour him with their return the next day: Galathea promiſed to ask permiſſion, and afterwards ſeeming very ſorry that ſhe had not time enough to talk with Aſtrea, ſhe went away fully reſolved to emply her endeavours to ſee her again.

As ſoon as they came unto Amaſis, they gave her an exact accompt of all that they had ſeen; and after they had told how much the Inchantment had affrighted them, they told her thot the god of love was to pronounce ſome Oracles, and commanded that they ſhould come and conſult with him: This Novelty made the Nymph very deſirous to be preſent, ſo as without Galatheas mention of her promiſe, ſhe commanded to make all things ready, that ſhe might go unto the houſe of Adamas, very early in the morning.

Merindor was come from Mount Briſon with the Nymph; and becauſe he ſaid he was ſent from Sigiſmond, Dorinde received him as kindly as ſhe could, though ſhe retained ſtill a freſh memory of his behaviour towards her: But at this time forgetting all his levity, ſhe bad him welcome; and after Supper, imagining that he durſt not not talk of any thing but of the Princeſs bu [...]neſs, ſhe gave him ſuch opportunity of ſpeech with her, as he had time enough to acquit himſelf of all that he had in commiſſion.

Adamas on the other ſide, to whom the joys of Celadon was an incomparable contentment, he returned unto the company he left in the Garden; but there hapned to be a change ſince he went: For Doris being acquainted with [Page] the death of Palemon, ſhe fell into ſuch extreamities of griefs, and complaints, as would have moved a ſtone to compaſſion. Adraſtes ſeemed to be no leſs greeved then ſhe; and when he conſidered that he was the principal cauſe of that Shepherds death, he could not imagine any thing that was able to comfort him. The Druid thinking he could not do a more charitable office, then to comfort them in their ſorrows, he took Doris in one hand, and Adraſtes in the other; and betwixt that place and the houſe, he gave them ſuch cordial Language, as he much allayed the ſadneſs of their ſouls, and put them into hope, that as the gods had ſent this ſad affliction upon them, ſo certainly out of their goodneſs, they would ſend them comforts. In the mean while, the ſighs of Doris, did blow that fire more vehement, which love had long ſince kindled in the heart of Adraſtes: And the tears which that Shepherd ſhed at the ſad reſentments of Doris, were ſo pleaſing unto that afflicted Shepherdeſs, as they ſerved for a kinde of comforts and eaſe, unto the pain which ſhe endured.

When Adamas found that his perſwaſions had a good opperation with them, he left them, and went to ſee Bellinde, who was already returned unto the Chamber of Aſtrea, and Diana: And becauſe he feared that if all this company went to viſit them, it would be but troubleſome to them, he thought it expedient, that none ſhould ſee them till the next morning: Therefore he commanded Paris to wait upon Celadon, Silvander, and the reſt into their Chambers, and adviſed them to be all in readineſs the next morning, to go and hear the Oracles which the God of Love was to pronounce: Paris was obedient unto this command; and though he had great deſire to ſee Diana, yet he durſt not ask permiſſion, imagining, that ſince Celadon could not ſee Aſtrea, Adamas would not grant unto him more priviledge then unto the other. Bellinde found Diana in a very joyful condition; for the return of Phillis, and the report which he made of Silvanders health, had almoſt reſtored her freſh complexion into her cheecks; ſo as after ſhe had rejoyced a while with the Druide, ſhe retired, full of joy that Diana promiſed her to riſe the next morning. Adamas alſo, after a while of diſcourſe with them, he went unto his Chamber, and deſired Phillis, and Leonide to lye in the Chamber of Aſtrea and Diana, that in caſe they ſhould need any help, Leonide might ſerve them.

Thus every one deſpoſed themſelves to reſt that night; and the laſt that retired themſelves was Adraſtes and Doris; for that ſhepherd fe ring leaſt Doris ſhould ſuſpect his greif, and think ſome craft, diſguiſed under that veile, he addreſſed himſelf unto her, and looking upon her with an eye that ſpoke the ſorrows of his ſoul; Siſter (ſaid he unto her) If my griefs for the death of Polemon, be not the greateſt, and the moſt real that ever I reſented, may I eternally periſh. I know my ſelf guilty of his death, and that but for me, he had ſtill been happy in your love and company: Now in ſome ſort to ſatiſfie the ghoſt of that dear husband, which Adraſtes has raviſhed from you; It is moſt juſt I ſhould puniſh my ſelf, and that I ſeparate my ſelf from that perſon who only can give me any conſolation or delight, which perſon is your ſelf. Dear Brother (anſwered Doris, with tears in her eyes) Adraſtes indeed is partly the cauſe of Palemons death; but for all that, I think it extream in juſtice to puniſh him for it, becauſe he did engage himſelf voluntarily unto that fatal voyage, and do what I could, I could not divert him from it: Alas, alas, how oft have I feared this miſfortune which hath befaln him; It ſeems as if ſome ſecret Genius did tell me of the accident; for truly never did any day nor night paſs, but either my thoughts or my dreams did menace it: You know it Adraſtes, you you have ſeen it in my face ſince you returned; and for all the good hopes that you gave me, I had ſtill ſome ſecret fears, which told me, that I ſhould never ſee him again: Ah my dear Palemon (continued ſhe) how fatal a paſſage were all my ſorrows at thy departure, of thoſe afflictions which were afterwards to fall upon me: Dear Palemon—at this word her ſpeech failed, for her tears and ſighs took it away: And Adraſtes, whoſe grief was no leſs violent, beginning to ſpeak; Fair Doris (ſaid he unto her (me thinks I find too deep reſentment [Page] in your grief: you ought to puniſh the Author of your diſaſter, and ſhew me how farre the revenge of a wronged woman can go. It was I that have robd you of Palemon; let mee feel the fury of your anger: If you have not reſolution enough to command me unto death, yet command me unto an eternal baniſhment; for that will be no leſſe then a death unto mee: But I ſhall obey, though I ſhall never finde any delight in the converſation of men, ſince I am deprived of him whom I loved beſt, and whoſe affection was dearer unto mee then my life.

Alas (anſwered Doris with a deep ſigh) though I ſhould be ſo ſevere, as to baniſh you from ſeeing mee, yet my grief for Palemons death, would not be the leſſe: Neither your abſence nor your death, can make him alive again, nor ever cure mee: I would not therefore have you abſent your ſelf, but on the contrary I hope that your preſence will be ſome comfort unto mee eſpecially becauſe in ſeeing you I ſhall imagine that I do ſee ſomething of him; for it may be ſaid in point of friendſhip, you were both one. All that I deſire from you, deare Adraſtes, is, That you will not go beyond thoſe limits which I ſhall preſcribe unto your affection: and that loving mee in the degree of a ſiſter, you will never diſoblige mee unto any other will then to take you as a brother. This was the injunction of Doris, unto which Adraſtes would not promiſe obedience; for hee knew not whether it was in his power to obey: hee vowed to ſerve her eternally, and having made the ſame vow long ſince, hee would obſerve it unto the laſt minute of his life.

After this they parted; and when the God of ſleep did ſummon them to take their reſt, they diſobeyed, and ſpent almoſt all the night with their own thoughts. Doris ſhee muſed upon the diſaſter which had hapned unto her, and in the dark deſired a thouſand times that the Ghoſt of Palemon would appeare before her eies as well as in her memory: Darkneſſe was not ſo horrid unto her as the conſideration of this loſſe, and when ſhee conſidered that it was without a remedy, this did almoſt kill her with grief. Amidſt theſe ſad imaginations, Love did ſometimes repreſent unto her thoughts the paſſion of Adraſtes, to make her ſenſible of that ſhepherds fidelity. Then did Doris a little repent ſhee had commanded him to love her only in the degree of a ſiſter: but preſently thinking thoſe thoughts in ſome ſort offenſive unto the love which ſhe ought to preſerve for Palemon, and that it would be a wrong unto him, to admit of any ſharer with him, ſhee ſtifled all thoſe thoughts in their birth, and repelled all thoſe arrowes wherewith it ſeems Love would have wounded her the ſecond time. Adraſtes on his ſide, amongſt all his ſorrowes for the loſſe of his friend, hee began to conceive a ſecret hope that hee ſhould one day enjoy that happineſſe for which hee had already ſuffered ſo many miſeries: But for all the joyes wherewith this ſweet imagination did flatter him, hee diſputed with himſelf, whether his ſorrowes for the loſſe of Palemon were not greater then the joyes hee had in conceiving ſome right of pretenſe unto his Miſtreſſe. Day had almoſt ſurpriſed him in this Combate, for it was very late before hee ſlept: but had hee ſlept only one minute, yet had hee done more then the Druid did, who was ſo ill ſatiſfied with Merindors diſcourſe, that being extreamly ſtung with anger and ſpite, ſhee was not able to cloſe an eye. Shee ſpent all the night in plotting how to be revenged for the injury which ſhee thought was done her. But Aſtrea and Diana reſted better: For the paines they had endured the day before, and the little ſleep which they had of two or three nights before, did now cauſe, them to ſleep ſoundly untill it was broad day.

Adamas, Bellinde, Celadon, Silvander, and the reſt of the Shepherds, did riſe almoſt at the firſt bluſh of Aurora, and had no ſooner ſet all things in order; but Amaſis came, bringing with her Roſanira, Galathea, Madonthe, Daphnide; Silvia, and the afflicted Dorinde, who carried in her face all the ſignes of diſpleaſure. A while after, Leonide, Aſtrea, Diana, and Phillis came out of their chamber: Likewiſe all the ſhepherds of the neighbouring townes arrived, and came purpoſely to wait upon the Grand Druid. When all was ready, Amaſis went out the firſt, and took Bellinde by the hand, with whom ſhee talked concerning [Page] the worſhip of the gods, which was the particular profeſſion unto which ſhe was called: Dorinde, ſhe faigned hee ſelf indiſpoſed, and deſired the Nymph to leave her the coach, to the end, that in caſe ſhe found her ſelf better, ſhe might follow after them: Roſanira, Daphnide, and Madonth [...], mixed themſelves with Leonide, Phillis, and Licidas: Adraſtes took care of Doris: Hylas and Thamires would needs wait upon Stella and Celidea; and all the reſt of the Shepherds and Shepherdeſſes did follow in a troop together. Adamas would be with Silvander, and that poor Shepherd ſeeing himſelf forced to yield unto Paris the entertainment of Diana, ſhe was all the way ſo melancholly and ſilent, that the Druide could not get one good word from him. Galanthea, fully reſolved to imploy well the time that ſhe had to ſtay with Aſtrea, ſhe took her in one hand; and becauſe ſhe would not quite take her away from her dear Celadon, ſhe took that Shepherd in the other.

Thus all this great company went from the houſe of Adamas, to hear the Oracle which the God of Love was to pronounce; and certainly it was a moſt pleaſant ſight, to ſee them in this order, and the beauty of their perſons, for Aſtrea, who had now nothing to trouble her, ſhe trimmed up her ſelf, with all the graces that either Nature or Art could uſe to imbelliſh [...] face: her eyes were not red and ſwelled as they were wont to be, when her ſorrows kept them in a perpetual moiſture; but they were as clear, as ſparkling, as that Planet which gives both light and life unto the whole Univerſe: her hair did not hang ſo looſe and careleſly, as when all her thoughts were how to preſerve Celadon: but now it was ſet in ſuch lovely order, as every curl was able to captivate a world of hearts: upon her head was a Garland of ſeveral flowers, and though they were the faireſt of the ſeaſon, yet were they aſhamed to ſee themſelves ſo far ſurmounted by the luſter of that complexion which was in their cheeks. In fine, this Shepherdeſs appeared ſo fair in the eyes of Galathea, as that Nymph, thinking ſhe never had ſeen ſo perfect a beauty, ſhe began to excuſe the diſdain of Celadon, and to think, that after he had burned in ſo glorious a fire, it was not poſſible he ſhould be touched with any other flame.

Celadon, for his part, he appeared the handſomeſt and moſt lovely Shepherd that ever was ſeen upon the banks of Lignon; the memory of his diſguiſement, and many other accidents of his life, did bring ſuch bluſhes into his cheeks, and tempered his complexion with ſuch luſter, as Galathea had much ado to preſerve that fidelity which ſhe had ſworn unto Lindamor: ſhe had never ſeen ſo many charms in the eyes of that Shepherd, as ſhe obſerved now; and calling to memory the condition wherein ſhe firſt ſaw him and relieved him: O heavens (ſaid ſhe in her ſelf) if this Shepherd had then had ſo many darts in his face as now I ſee, in lieu of being in love with him, I ſhould have downright died. In this thought, ſhe never removed her eye off him, unleſs to look ſometimes upon Aſtrea; and when ſhe left looking upon Aſtrea, it was only to admire the comelineſs of Celadon. Thus, in this pleaſing buſineſs, ſhe went diſputing in her ſelf, which of them two was moſt worthy to be loved; but finding them to be equally exact and perfect, and not being able to find any difference, but in their clothes, which diſtinguiſhed their ſexes, ſhe confeſſed, that they had no advantage of each other; and that love was moſt juſt in uniting the ſouls of two ſo fair and virtuous bodies.

Thus they went on a while without ſpeaking one word: but whilſt Galathea was raviſhed in her thoughts of them, the thoughts Aſtrea and Celadon were no leſſ buſied. For that Shepherd conſidering, that but for the Nymph, he had enjoyed the happineſs of holding Aſtreas hand, and talked unto her of his love: O Galathea (ſaid he to himſelf) will you eternally oppoſe my happineſſe? your preſence is perpetually prejudicial unto me. Then looking upon her, and afterwards upon Aſtrea; and that Shepherdeſs ſeeing Galathea to be very fair, ſhe preſently began to think of the diſcourſe ſhe had with Adamas, concerning this Nymphs affection unto Celadon; and amongſt her joyes, to know that the fidelity of her Shepherd could not be ſhaken, ſhe yet rai [...]ed a tincture of jealouſie, and feared, left he ſhould at that inſtant become ſenſible of thoſe charms which [Page] formerly he had diſpiſed; yet ſince this thought had no good foundation, ſo it did not long continue, and if her ſighs did teſtifie any of this jealouſie unto Celadon, ſhe preſently ſmiled upon him to teſtifie her repentance; probably, they had gone all the way without any entertainment but their own thoughts, if Galathea had not at laſt broke this long ſilence: For Celadon and Aſtrea, whoſe tongues were out of reſpect tied, they durſt not preſume to begin any diſcourſe; and ſeeing they could not talk of their own intereſts, they cared not to talk of any thing elſe.

But the Nymph clearing up her voice, and addreſſing her ſelf unto the Shepherd [...]ſs: Well, fair Aſtrea (ſaid ſhe unto her) I dare ſay you are in a moſt pleaſing rapture, ſince Celadon is the ſubject of it. Madam (anſwered Aſtrea) I do not think, that where you are, one can admire any thing but you: not but the preſence of that Shepherd is very dear unto me, but if you do obſerve any extraordinary motion in me, I beſeech you be not offended if I ſay, that you only are the cauſe of it. I beſeech you, fair Shepherdeſs (replied Galathea) let us lay aſide all artifice, and as you ſee that my habit now does not ſeparate me from your quality, ſo treat me with the ſame freedome and affection that you do Phillis or Diana: be not afraid to truſt me with your thoughts, for aſſure your ſelf, that be they as ſecret as poſſible, if you make me your confident, I will never betray you.

Madam (replied Aſtrea) I ſhould think my ſelf extreamly bold, ſhould I entertain you with any of my follies, I know it to be a kind of crime, if I ſhould dare only to caſt my eyes upon you: your high quality, and as high merit, forbids me any ſuch free acceſſe; and without your expreſſe command, I durſt not ſtay ſo long near your perſon. I vow unto you, dear Aſtrea (ſaid the Nymph) I would have you treat me as a Shepherdeſs; and you will extreamly diſpleaſe me, if you will not let us enjoy our ſelves with all ingenious freedome: I came hither yeſterday purpoſely for it, and the accidents of the day would not let me ſee you; but now, when there is nothing that interrupts, and all things contribute to this contentment, let us, my dear Aſtrea, enjoy; and I would not have you hide any thing from me, diſcover the ſecrets of your ſoul freely unto me. Aſtrea, ſeeing her ſelf obliged to ſatisfie the commands of the Nymph, ſhe firſt bluſh'd and afterwards anſwered her thus.

Alas, Madam, there is nothing in my life remarkable, but that which relates unto the love which Celadon has profeſſed unto me; nor do you enquire of me, but indeed of him. But alas, fair Nymph, why ſhould you enquire of me, ſince I have more reaſon to enquire of you concerning Celadon, Galathea, who had never entred into this diſcourſe, but only that ſhe might have an occaſion to tell her what ſhe had done for her Shepherd▪ ſhe found by her anſwer, that ſhe was already informed, and never miſtruſting Adamas, ſhe thought that Celadon had given her the relation of it. Turning her ſelf then towards him, Celadon (ſaid ſhe) you are a Tattler; but good Shepherd tell me truly, when you entertained your Miſtreſs with the diſcourſe of your being at Iſoures, did you commend me for my aſſiſtance, or did you condemn me for my love? Celadon would have anſwered, but Aſtrea, fearing he ſhould ſay he never told her any thing, interupted him: Madam, replied ſhe, when Celadon told me of the good office which you did him, he ſpoke of you only as a Princeſs unto whom he was obliged for his life; and if he did at any time ſpeak of the mind you had unto him, it was only in confeſſing himſelf unworthy of the honour which you did him. Upon theſe words, the Shepherd did underſtand what was Aſtreas deſign, and therefore interrupting them: Madam (ſaid he unto Galathea) how great ſoever my ingratitude be, I cannot deny but that your aſſiſtance did reſcue me out of the arms of death; and becauſe that favour was no leſſe advantageous unto this fair Shepherdeſſe then unto my ſelf, ſince it preſerved the life of a man, who loves and honours her above all the world, I did acquaint her with the circumſtances of it, to the end, the ſhe having the ſame intereſt, might alſo be obliged in the ſame ingratitude. Indeed, fair Aſtrea (ſaid the Nymph) but for me you had never ſeen Celadon again; and as he is a debtour unto me for his life, ſo are you [Page] a debtor unto me for all the contentments you ſhall ever receive from his love, and ſervices:

Tis true thoſe admirable features in his face, that ſweet grace in his deportment, and all the excellent qualities of his mind, are the gifts of nature: But after that fatall accident which did precipitate him unto Lignon, if my pity, or rather my love, had not preſerved him; all thoſe features, and graces, and ornaments of his body and mind, had been loſt, and you out of hopes ever to enjoy any of thoſe delights which his fidelity did promiſe unto you: Madam (anſwered Aſtrea) I am but too well informed of thoſe favours which you have done unto Celadon: and though I was then rather an obſtacle unto your deſires, then any object to make you pity him, yet now I do acknowledge my ſelf infinitly obliged in the behalf of that ſhepherd; And I do wiſh it were in my power to render him unto you; for of all ſinnes, I do moſt hate, that of ingratitude; my faireſt Miſtreſſe (added Celadon) the benefits which I have received from this fair Nimph are of ſuch a nature as can never be paid.

They are not ſuch (replied Galathea) but may eaſily be acquitted: and if you have a mind, I will ſhew you how. Madam (anſwered Astrea) there is nothing in the world, but I would do it, to content you, elſe may I not live one munite longer: and for my part (ſaid Celadon) I do proteſt, there is no command which I will not obey unleſs it do contradict that love which I do bear unto the fair Aſtrea. That which I do require (ſaid Galathea) and turned her ſelf towards Celadon) is only to make your joyes the fuller: and therefore know ſhepherd, and you fair Aſtrea alſo, that I ſhall think my ſelf fully recompenced for all I have done, if you will this day ſolemnly ſwear before me, that the union betwixt you ſhall be inviolable; and that no accident whatſoever ſhall be able to ſeperate your wills: I have heretofore feared this alliance as the greateſt misfortune that ever could happen unto me: but now I wiſh and deſire it, as the greateſt advantage I can receive from you. Great Nimph (anſwered Celadon) this which you require, do only depend upon the will of that ſhepherdeſs, and not of me; and as for my part, I proteſt and ſwear by that can make an oath inviolable, that I will adore her eternally; and were I not conſcious of my own demerits, I would this very munite, vow my ſelf hers in that quality, and vow with all to obſerve it for ever. I do accord unto this vow which Celadon hath made (ſaid Aſtrea,) and I ſwear Madam, by the power which you have over me, never to fail in what is due unto his love, and your commands. Upon this ſhe was ſilent: ſince ſo (ſaid the Nimph, and embraced them both) let this be the firſt teſtimony of it, and Aſtrea, give Celadon a kiſs; in earneſt of that ſecret marriage which you have now contracted, and of which the gods, and I am witneſſes. Astrea would have anſwered; But Celadon even raviſhed with that happineſs which Galathea would procure for him, did withall poſſible haſt kiſſe her, leaſt ſhe ſhould oppoſe that felicity. Thus this ſhepherd did kiſſe her, as with ſuch infinity delight as if he would have left his ſoul upon the lips of his faireſt ſhepherdeſs, and Aſtrea was ſo aſhamed of this favour which ſhe had granted him as ſhe hardly ſpoke one word in an hovre after.

Mean time Paris entertained Diana with diſcourſe: and becauſe he knew not any other reaſon that ſhe had to be ſo forward in dying then the affection ſhe bore unto her Companion: faireſt Diana (ſaid he unto her) is it in the happineſs of Aſtrea, that I muſt exſpect the beginning of mine? untill now your reſiſtance has been ſuch as was able to ſtagger the the conſtancy of any other but mine: but now that ſhepherdeſs may well ſerve for your example to accept of your ſervants good will, and beſtow your affection upon me: upon this, he began to ſigh; and ſeeing Diana did not anſwer: Oh faireſt Miſtreſſe (continued he) your ſeverity to me, is as rigorous as ever, and as inſupportable; I have ſerved you by your own permiſſion, and courted you by your own commands; The gods, Adamas and Bellinde, are all conſenting unto my good fortune: your own cruelty is the only impediment; Oh the torments I have endured, ſince the flight of Aſtrea? Tortures and racks are not ſo ſharp: and yet I find no ſpark of compaſſion in you, and ſhould I compare your heart, and marble together I [Page] think, the marble the more ſenſible of the two. In ſaying ſo, his eyes were ready to guſh out into teares, which cauſed him to be ſilent, and to take his handkercher: So as Diana, ſeeing her ſelf obliged in civility, and reſpect, to ſay ſomething, and having no mind to drive him into diſpair, as well becauſe ſhe had ſome little inclination to him, as becauſe ſhe feared her denial would incenſe Bellinde, ſhe turned towards him with a ſmiling aſpect; ſage Paris (anſwered ſhe) what you are pleaſed to call rigour in me, is rather an argument of that eſteem I have of you, then of any ill will: I have often told you, that my conſciouſneſſe of my own ſmall merits, is the reaſon of that reſervedneſſe wherein I have lived conceiving that without too much preſumption, I could not pretend unto any farther then ſome ſhare in your friendſhip: but ſince what I thought to be an effect of my duty, is termed coldneſſe and cruelty, I will hereafter become more free, upon condition you will aſſure me, that for three whole dayes, you will not ſolicite my Mother for the accompliſhment of our marriage. I do ask this term only for my conſolation, after which we ſhal be both ſatisfied according to your own deſires. Diana had much a do to make this anſwer, but ſetting ſuch a face upon it as might beſt hide her deſign ſhe perfectly contented Paris, who not knowing that ſhe took this term only to invent ſome way to deliver her ſelf from the tiranny of Bellinde: he verily believed that at the end of the three dayes ſhe would conſent to marry him; Therefore he gave her thanks, as for the greatteſt favour ſhe could do him: and kiſſing her hand: faireſt Miſtreſſe (ſaid he unto her,) not only theſe three dayes, but alſo all my life, I ſhall be yours in all love and obedience.

This was the diſcourſe which Diana, and Paris had together, whilſt Adamas in his talk with Silvander did all that he poſſibly could, to diſcover from whence that grief which he found in the face of that ſhepherd did proceed: and becauſe he had already obſerved ſome ſecret paſſages betwixt Diana and him, he harped much upon that ſtring, but found Silvander ſo cold, or rather diſcreet, as he could gather no ſatisfaction from thence; Therefore he changed his diſcourſe: and therefore conceiving that he might give in generall that conſolation which he was reſolved to apply unto a perticular ſubject; Sage Silvander (ſaid he unto him) do not think it ſtrang if out of an inquiſitive curioſity I do intrude my ſelf into your affaires; you know that we are naturally ſenſible of their intereſts whom we love; ſo as having a moſt particular affection unto you, I muſt needs be extreamly deſirous to know from whence thoſe diſpleaſures which I have obſerved in you, do proceed; Revered Sir, anſwered Silvander, the affection which you ſay you have unto me, does proceed from that compaſſion which makes men ſenſible of the miſeries of one another: and though in this, you do no more for me then is common unto all miſerable people, yet am I extreamly obliged unto you, and wiſh that the gods had as much pity upon me as you have. The gods, replied Adamas, will do according as they pleaſe, and not alwayes as we deſire: yet not that our condition is ere the worſe becauſe all that they do is for our good: but commonly we do judge according unto our unruly paſſions, which will not let us waite with patience for that ſucceſſe which they would give unto our deſires; Hence it is, that many in complaining of their misfortunes do murmure againſt heaven. But as ſoon as the ſun of Proſperity begins to ſhine upon them, then they begin to repent they ever accuſed heaven, or diſpaired of help, this makes me to ſay that a well tempered ſpirit ought to be alwayes equall and alike, and both in adverſity, and proſperity ſet the ſame face: Believe it Silvander (but you know it as well as I) this leſſon is not ſo hardly learnt, as is thought: a good courage will maſter all manner of paſſions: and remember, that to ſubmit all unto the good will of the gods, is undiſputably the beſt document a man can learn, and the greateſt ſecret of life. I do know Sir (replied Silvander) how great the imbecillity of men is, nor am I ignorant of the omnipotency of the gods; I have equally had experience of both, and without looking any farther then my own ſelf, I can find moſt remarkable examples of it: if I have not ſo much power over my own ſoul as to keep it from ſinking under the blows of fortune, it is not that I am ignorant of my duty, or that I do not moſt humbly ſubmit [Page] unto the will of the Gods: But this great imbicelity whereof I ſpeak, and which is almoſt intollerable to humanity, does make me indiſpoſed unto any good conſideration.

Upon this, Silvander was ſilent, and Adamas would have ſpoke, but upon a ſudden he heard a great cry, and ſaw Amaſis running to him as faſt▪ she could: This accident did very much amaze him, and enquiring to know the couſe, Oh (ſaid the Nymph) do you not ſee the Nymphs ready to divorce us; for Heavens ſake let us fly away as faſt as we can: In ſaying ſo, ſhe began to run; but the Druid ſtaying her: Madam (ſaid he) they cannot hurt you, and unleſs you be afraid of Marble, you have no reaſon to ran away. How? Marble? (ſaid Amaſis) do you not ſee them move near us? At this Adamas could not chuſe but laugh to ſee what effects fear had wrought in the fancy of the Nymph: and turning himſelf towards her, Madam (ſaid he) I will be your warrant, and I believe Galathea will warrant me.

Amaſis then looking upon her, and ſeeing that neither ſhe, nor any of the reſt were afirighted, ſhe began to take courage; but as ſoon as ever Adamas told her how thoſe Animals came to be metamorphized, Truly, ſaid ſhe, I do not more wonder at the Miracle, then at Galathea, in her diſcourſe yeſterday of the Inchantment, ſhould never acquaint me with this particular; after this ſhe was perfectly recollected; and being but a little diſtant from the Fountain, The Druid, leaving the company, he advanced almoſt cloſe to the Cloud which hung over it: Then falling down upon on his knees, and all the company after his example doing the like, he began this Prayer unto the God of Love.

OH thou Son of Venus, adored Deity, whoſe Empire is above, and over all, and inveterate enemy of confuſion; We beſeech thee, as thou didſt Chaos, ſo dispel all theſe diſorders, and this Enchantment: It is not any curioſity that brought us hither, but thy own command; ſo as having appointed this day, Let our obedience excuſe our neceſſity of making this voyage: Pronounce, Oh God of Love, out of pity pronounce what thou haſt deſtined in favour of theſe Groves: And as the glory of pleaſing thee is the only object which we do propoſe unto our ſelves; So let our contentment be the ſubject of thy Anſwers.

This Prayer being ended, Adamas returned to the place where the Troop was; and then a little wind did ariſe, which waſted unto our ears the noiſe of ſtirredwaters: Preſently after, the wind grew more boiſterous, and comming only by blaſts, it brought with it great flaſhes, like to Lightning, which had but an inſtant between their beginning and ending; many affrightning clapps of Thunder followed: Then upon a ſudden, the Cloud above the Fountain opening, one might ſee come out by degrees, in the midſt of the water, a huge Baſon of Jaſper, upon a Pedeſtal of Porphery, moſt curiouſly enriched, upon which the God of Love ſhewed himſelf, in the ſame form as before he appeared.

At the ſight of this Deity, Reverence invited every one to look down; but afterwards, Curioſity raiſing up their looks, they ſaw that the God of Love held in his left hand a great Azure Table, in which were written theſe words, in Letters of Gold.

Since Alexis is the faithful Female Lover

Whom the Gods required; Receive Celadon that

Happineſs which Heaven does offer unto thee.

Aſtrea is the Reward of all thy Pains; And

That heart which hath ſo long mutinyed againſt thee,

Shall never more oppoſe thy Conſtancy.

Adamas, and the reſt of the company had no ſooner read theſe words, but [Page] they heard a murmur, and a noiſe, like to the clapping together of many hands: It was an Emblem of that joy which all the Shepherds, and Shepherdeſſes did reſent for the happineſs of Aſtrea, and Celadon.

At that inſtant, the Shepherd did loſe the memory of all the miſeries he had endured; and not knowing how he ſhould enough thank the God of Love for that happineſs which now he ſaw infallible; he lifted up his eyes to Heaven, and not being able to ſpeak one word, his face changed colour two or three times: Aſtrea received no leſs contentment; Phillis was even raviſhed with joy; and Diana her ſelf did find ſome comfort unto her ſorrows, in thoſe delights which were promiſed unto her companion; But as the greateſt felicities may ſometimes be taken for a preſage of ſome future great misfortune, by reaſon of that link which does inſeparably tye adverſity and proſperity together: So this joy did not long continue in their countenances: For after the God of Love had given them time to ſee his pleaſure in this Table, preſently he turned it, and in lieu of Golden Letters written in Azure, they ſaw in a Silver Table written in black Characters, theſe words.

THe Dooms of deſtiny muſt be obeyed:

Silvander muſt dye, and leave Diana unto Paris

And Adamas, though this Lover be dear unto thee;

Yet I command thee to ſacrifice this Shepherd

Tomorrow; and let him dye by thy hand.

The Heavens began to Thunder again, and upon a ſudden the Clouds and the Tables vaniſhed. This command did ſo extreamly aſtoniſh all the company, that it was long before one word was ſpoken; Every one did in their very ſouls lament the loſs of this Shepherd; for he having lived in a Country where the people ſet an eſteem upon virtue, Silvander could ſay that he never raiſed any envy, or enemy againſt him: But a midſt this common affliction which which might well be called a juſt reſentment of pity, Diana was moved in a far different manner: For the God of Love had dooned the death of Silvander in ſuch a diſmal manner, as ſhe reſolved to to precede him, or at the leaſt not to ſurvive him one minute, for whoſe ſake ſhe only deſired to live.

Yet leaſt her too much tranſport, ſhould be an obſtacle unto her deſigne, ſhe conceal'd her ſorrows with ſo great a conſtraint, that Silvander himſelf was deceived by it. This poor Shepherd, after he had ſeen the doom which the God of Love had pronounced againſt him, he mildly caſt his eyes upon her, and his grief not to poſſeſs her whom he loved be [...]t, was a cauſe that he could not chuſe but accompany his looks with ſome ſighs. Diana took them with an incomparable conſtancy, and not ſo much as changing colour, ſhe ſhewed him more marks of amazement in her face, then love; of which the Shepherd was no leſs ſenſible, then of that ſentence which condemned him to dye: Yet ſtill retaining in his memory thoſe teſtimonies of affection which ſhe had ſhewed unto him, he found preſently after, that it was no defect of love in her, ſince commonly the deereſt ſorrows ſend forth feweſt tears.

Adamas in this extreamity, knew not what to do; ſometimes he looked upon Silvander, and ſometimes turned towards the Fountain, as if he hoped the God would revoke this doom I yet ſtill ſeemed ſo aſtoniſhed as if he had thought it pronounced againſt himſelf, and not Silvander.

Hylas, was now put by the byas of his merry humour; and though he did not meet with any greater oppoſer of himſelf by way of Argument, yet did he grieve for him, and made it appear that he was a lover of virtue, and did eſteem it whereſoever he did meet with it.

Lycidas, Thamiros, Adraſtes, and the reſt, did not know what countenances to put on, and Celadon himſelf did forget all his cauſes of joy. Thus in this univerſal aſtoniſhment, and common ſilence, no noiſe was to be heard but ſighs, which plainly ſpoke the ſorrows of all the people: But Silvander, preſſing through the company, went to the Fountain; where kneeling down, and [Page] ſhewing a countenance of courragious reſolution. Oh God of Love, (ſaid he in in a loud voice) which doſt envy my fedelity, I do give thee thanks for the care thou haſt taken in making me to dye ſo gloriouſly; I know very well that as death is to tryumph over me, ſo Paris is to tryumph over Diana; but ſince my mean birth cannot diſpute with him for the victory, I cannot think that any command could come from a more puiſſant God: Here I am, Great God, ready to obey thee; And ſince the doom is irrevocable, in ordaining me to live till to morrow, may the Sun turn his hours into munites, and haſten his return for my ſake. After this he roſe up, and whilſt all the company obſerved his behaviour, and whilſt Paris himſelf was greeved to the ſoul that he could not be happy but by the ruine of that Shepherd, he went unto Adamas, and ſeeing him in great aſtoniſhment; Father (ſaid he unto him) cheer up; we now know the will of the Gods, and that this Fountain muſt be drenched with my blood if the Inchantment end: Come, come, why ſtay we here any longer? Son, anſwered Adamas, with a deep ſigh; The Gods do ſhew no leſs rigor ununto me, in letting me live, then in hindring you: In ſaying ſo, he turned about, and all the company doing the like, they all began to ſet forward towards the houſe.

In their return, every one went in confuſion: Aſtrea thinking upon nothing but the misfortune of her friend, ſhe left Celadon to the diſcretion of Galathea: Phillis was ſo ſadly concerned, that Lycidas himſelf deſired her to go and give what aſſiſtance ſhe could unto Diana, in that extreamity; ſo being about that Shepherdeſs, and a little ſeparated from the company, becauſe they would not be heard, Phillis was the firſt that ſpoke, and after ſhe had looked up to Heaven: I profeſs (ſaid ſhe) I cannot enough admire at ſo many accidents by which the Gods do diſturb the tranquility of our lives; we do never guſt any pleaſure one ſingle day; but as ſoon as ever we have any cauſe of joy, ſome ſtrange diſaſter or other does blaſt it. Siſter, (anſwered Diana very ſadly) the Gods have now done their worſt, and ſince they have thus aſſaulted the innocency of Silvander, it is probable they will not ſpare one of us: The truth is, ( [...]aid Aſtrea and interrupted) This Shepherd moves me to abundance of compaſſion; I have narrowly obſerved the whole courſe of his life; and when I do particularly conſider the ſucceſs of it, I cannot chuſe but admire his conſtancy, and think his deſtinies too ſevere. The faireſt things (replied Diana, with tears in her eyes) are often ſooneſt blaſted; and therefore I do not ſo much wonder at Silvanders fate, although I do moſt ſadly reſent it: For though (as they ſay) the Gods cannot erre, yet I cannot chuſe but think them ſometimes jealous, and do envy us mortals when we have any thing amongſt us that is execllent; elſe what reaſon could they have to take from us this poor Shepherd: had he ever neglected their ſervice; had he ever been negligent in looking to his flocks; had hee been guilty of Paricide, or had lived in a moſt preciſe obſervation of all Laws, both divine, and humane, I could not have told what to have ſaid: But Lignon I believe never ſaw a more wiſe Shepherd then he; You know how excellently he has often diſcourſed in matters of Divinity; how reſpective he has been unto all: his Flocks were always the beſt liking in all the plain; and how could he commit Paricide, ſince he never knew his Parents? No, no? my companions, they could never detect him of any crime, unleſs making me in love with him; but thy ſhould they puniſh him for that, ſince I never complained againſt him? Siſter, replied Phillis, If the Gods do puniſh him, for winning your Love, it is only becauſe that affection is contrary unto what you owe unto Paris; for you ſee, it is their poſitive wills you ſhould marry him; and were I in your condition, I would conſent unto it, provided they would let Silvander live. Siſter anſwered Aſtrea, the Gods ure not to be capitulated withall; and I believe there is ſome deep myſtery in this, which we underſtand not; and that Silvander having lived moſt of his age out of Forreſts, there may be ſome other reaſon which cauſeth his death: not but that I do extreamly lament him, and would with the loſs of my blood redeem him; but ſince the misfortune is irrevocable, I conceive the beſt way is to obey without murmur, whatſoever the Gods ordain [Page] and concerning either him or us. How ſiſter? (ſaid Diana and was a little troubled) would you adviſe me to give my ſelf unto Paris, and betray my fidelity unto Silvander? I would adviſe you (ſaid Aſtrea) to give unto Silvander as much as you can, which is your reſentment of his misfortune; and unto Paris what you ow unto him, which is obedience unto the commands of the gods, and Bellinde, Neither the gods, nor Belinde (anſwered Diana, and was very angry) can force my will: I have learn'd, that they have given me a free will, and power, to make what choiſe I will: whether it be a crime or no to make uſe of it, it is no matter; ſo I do not offend Silvander, all's indifferent, and believe it Astrea, your ſin is not ſmall, in adviſing me to be perfideous: In ſaying ſo, ſhe looked upon her with ſuch an eye as would have moved any unto pity; and Aſtrea, being touched with compaſſion, ſhe was quite out of countenance: My dear Siſter (ſaid ſhe and broke into tears) may I never live, if I be not extreamly ſenſible of Silvanders misfortune, and would with all my heart, I could for your ſake, change his Deſtiny; but be my ſorrows never ſo great for him, my reſentments for you are more violent, and that is the reaſon of my ſpeaking as I did, thinking that by adviſing you unto a perfidy, I might give you ſome conſolation, eſpecially ſince your fidelity will do him no good, becauſe his death will not ſuffer him to reap the fruits of it: Nay, on the contrary (replied Diana) my fidelity will doubtleſly cauſe him to have this ſatisfaction in dying, that he has as much as he deſires, and ſince it is long before we ſhall ſee each other again, if my conſtancy be meritorious, he will give me leave to follow him.

This was the diſcourſe of Diana, by which Aſtrea and Phillis gathered, that after the loſſe of Silvander, they ſhould have a heard task to preſerve her: yet loving her infinity well, they reſolved to comfort her as well as they could: thus they went on the way, whilſt Amaſis, being near unto (Galathea and Celadon, did cauſe him to relate the principal [...]ccurrents of Silvanders life.

Belinde, for her part, ſhe made no queſtion but Diana had an inclination to him; and infinitly admiring, with what diſcretion this paſſion had been carryed, ſhe alſo lamented the loſs of that Shepherd, and condemned the too much eaſineſſe of her daughter in wiſhing him ſo well: After this, remembring that ſhe only was the cauſe of Silvanders coming to dwell in Forreſts, ſhe looked upon her ſelf as culpable, both of his love and death. Yet ſince it was not in her power to divert it now, becauſe ſhe would rather die then diſobey the gods, ſhe continued her Lamentations, which was all ſhe could do for this unfortunate Shepherd.

Adamas alſo, whom the Oracle had intereſted in the death of Silvander, by commanding him to be his Sacrificer, he could not find out any reaſon why this Shepherd ſhould be ſo rigorouſly uſed: yet for further ſatisfaction, he would confer with him, and taking the Shepherd by the hand: Silvander (ſaid he unto him) what grand ſin have you committed, which thus moves the gods to be greedy of your death? Their Oracles ſpeak nothing elſe, whether you conſult with them in private or publick, ſtill they have ſome deſign upon your life. Father (anſwered Silvander) it would be a vanity in me worthy of puniſhment, to ſay I never ſinned; but I muſt needs confeſſe, that I do verily believe, the greatteſt ſin I ere committed, was in preſuming to pretend unto the poſſeſſion of Diana: hitherto I have concealed my paſſion, leſt there ſhould be too many witneſſes of my preſumption; but ſince you would have my ingenious confeſſion, to excuſe the rigour which you find in the puniſhment that is ordained me, I will freely tell you my offence, and beſeech you to pardon me, if it hath been any obſtacle to the deſign of Belinde and Paris: my love unto that fair Shepherdeſs, began before ere ſhe knew him, and if ſhe did entertain his affection, only out of reſpect, it was perhaps, becauſe ſhe had beforehand received mine out of inclination. Yet the gods moſt juſt, they have found a more ſutable conformity between the merits of Paris and Diana, then between the perfections of the Shepherdeſs and my miſerable condition: Upon this ground, they commanded their marriage ſhould be accompliſhed, and that I ſhould die, becauſe they knew, that if they had not ſo commanded it, yet I would never have ſurvived their marriage [Page] one minute. The gods, replied the Druide, do not give Diana unto Paris becauſe he deſervs her; nor do I think they deny her unto you, for want of any good qualities which may intitle you to a legitimate preſence unto her: I do very well know both your worths, and for all my affection unto him, I am not ſo partially blind, but I alſo know what great advantages your wit has above his; but to tell you truly, I think the gods do thus, to ſhew how oft men are deceived in their judgements, and that the Laws of all humane Prudence, is far inferiour unto thoſe that are eſtabliſhed in heaven: But Silvander (continued he) give me leave to part from you a little, that whilſt you do joyn with the reſt of the company, I may think upon ſome courſe which may be expedient both for you and me.

In ſaying ſo, Druide ſtayed, and Silvander, who was very glad to be alone, he did not waſh away ſo faſt as ordinary; but going ſoftly, he did nothing but think upon the Fatal doom, which had debarred him from the enjoyment of Diana, to augment the glory and triumphs of Paris: Adamas▪ in the mean while, being come near the Altar, upon the ſtairs, whereof Aſtrea and Diana ſlept, when they went with a reſolution to die at the Fountain of verity: there he ſate down, and there beginning to think upon the office unto which he was called then upon his life, and afterwards upon the miſerable condition of Silvander; and finding in himſelf greater motions of affection towards him, them ever he had before: O (ſaid he) how apt is compaſſion to cauſe love? For I never had ſo great an inclination unto Silvander, as ſince his misfortune forced me to pity him. Afterwards thinking upon the Oracle which commended that Shepherd to die, and that he himſelf ſhould ſacrifice him: O heavens (ſaid he) how comes the gods to be ſo barbarous as to ſprinkle their altars with humane blood: If ſome uncouth Victimes only would appeaſe their wrath, why then, in lieu of Bulls and Sheep, did they not command the burning of our houſes? I would, with all my heart, have been the firſt that would have fired mine to appeaſe them, and ſhew my obedience: But why, O god of Love, muſt our houſes ſtand, and Silvander he ſacrificed? and to make me the greater ſufferer in his puniſhment, by dying daily with grief, for killing him, why muſt I be his ſacrifice? Alas, is this the abundance of contentments which ſhould accompany my dayes, after I had given Celadon unto his dear Aſtrea? Ah Heaven, has thou deluded me? Upon this he ſlept, and conſidering that he was a Druide: O pardon me (replied he) for accuſing you of injuſtice: Pardon me, great gods, for being too much tranſported with my rereſentments: Alas, alas, I do love Silvander, and being but a man, I am ſubject to humane frailties: In ſaying ſo, he began to think how he ſhould appeaſe the God of Love, ſo, as he might excuſe that Shepherd; but finding no way, he roſe up, reſolved to obey, and returned to his houſe.

They were not gone far, before Thamires, who was near unto Hylas: I do not think (ſaid he) but if you would ſpeak according to your conſcience, you would confeſſe Hylas, that the death of Silvander does not ſo much trouble you, as you make a ſhew of: why do you think ſo! (asked Hylas) becauſe, anſwered Thamires, it is natural to wiſh ill unto thoſe that vex us, and well unto ſuch as pleaſe us: now, it is Silvander only, that hath convinced you of errour, and has let the world ſee the falſneſs of your opinions: ſo, as I believe, you will be very glad that this thorn is taken out of your foot: Ah Thamires (ſaid Hylas and ſighed) how far are you from my thoughts, ſince as two contraries do give a greater luſter unto each other, I am confident, that my wit oppoſing hier it would have been in a greater conſideration and eſteem amongſt the Shepherds and Shepherdeſſes; but I fear, heaven does puniſh him for maintaining ſuch evil Maximes: And if by the tranquility of our lives, it be lawful to judge of the love of the gods unto us. obſerve, I beſeech you, which of us two has moſt reaſon to think our ſelves in the right: Firſt, he came no ſooner into the world, but he was puniſhed for the offences which he was to commit: for the gods, unto whom future and preſent are all one, were pleaſed to make him feel the weight of their puniſhments betimes; and ſince he has been the very tennis ball of Fortune, jolted to and fro, like a vagabond, whom Nature would not ſo much as own: if [Page] ever he had any inclination unto any Shepherdeſſe, there was a thouſand obſtacles to oppoſe his contentment: and why all this? but only as a recompence of that fine conſtancy which he hath preached with ſuch zeal and devotion: Whereas, on the contrary, at my very birth, good Fortune ſmiled upon me; health and wealth vowed never to forſake me: nor have I ever been troubled with ſo much as a fit of the headach: as ſoon as ever I had any mind to a young and fair Shepherdeſs, ſhe met me half way: Thus have I lived alwayes in abundance of contentment, and ſwimmed in all delights; and why all this? but becauſe I never preached any ſuch ſevere Laws as might tyrannize over our ſpirits; but on the contrary, that one may love indifferently all that one finds fair, and never by tyed to dote long upon one and the ſame: But Thamires (continued he) though Silvander has deſerved the misfortunes which follow him, yet do I infinitly lament him; and though his humour was alwayes contrary unto mine, yet I do wiſh his Deſtinies were as kind unto him, as mine are to me. In this you ſhew (anſwered Thamires) that you are not in all things an enemy unto reaſon. I conceive it therefore our parts to lament his loſs, and in him the loſs of all the Shepherds that are to ſurvive him: for I am afraid, that if they be left to the mercy of your extravagant opinions, you will corrupt and debauch them, and get an Empire of their minds: That had been long ſince (ſaid Hylas) had all things been governed by reaſon.

With ſuch diſcourſe as this, they all came unto the houſe of Adamas, into which they were no ſooner entred, but Celadon, who ſhared with Silvander in his ſorrows, he beſeeched Galatheas leave to go back and meet that Shepherd, whom he thought was ſtill with the Druide: which the Nymph conſenting unto, he went, and Licidas ſeeing him go, he followed him: They were no ſooner out of the houſe, but they met him all alone: Celadon, who did moſt cordially love him, did a long while embrace him, but was not able to ſpeak for ſighing: which Silvander perceiving, Celadon (ſaid he unto him) for god ſake let not my misfortunes be any trouble to thoſe contentments which the gods would have you enjoy in the poſſeſſion of your Miſtreſſe: Take your full taſte of joyes, without a mixture of any ſorrows; and if it be my death which only troubles you, if you love me, think it a cauſe rather of joy then ſorrow, ſince the gods themſelves would have it ſo, and ſince I cannot go out of the world with more glory, then in obeying thoſe Dooms which they have pronounced. However (anſwered Celadon) I cannot chuſe but ſadly reſent this ſeparation, as the only thing that was able to moleſt my joyes: upon this, Silvander would have anſwered, but the Druide came, and interrupting them, did carry them to his houſe.

Diana, on the other ſide, who had Aſtrea and Phillis with her, was not able to reſiſt her ſorrows, which every moment grew more and more violent: ſo as to avoid all other diſcourſe, but that of her companions, ſhe would go to bed, under pretence of taking ſome reſt which ſhe wanted; and certainly there needed not much artifice to perſwade Belinde that ſhe ſtood in need of that refreſhment: for beſides, now knowing what intereſt ſhe had in the miſfortune of Silvander, the very face of that Shepherdeſs, had the features of one that was not likely to live above two or three hours. She conſented therefore that Diana ſhould retyre her ſelf unto her chamber; and though ſhe was in her ſoul ſorry for the obſtacles that hindred the contentment of her Daughter, and the merits of Silvander, yet did ſhe a little comfort her ſelf, when ſhe fancied, that after the death of this Shepherd, Diana could not then have any excuſe, but to marry Paris.

Amaſis alſo, had not been in the houſe above half an hour, but ſhe remembred Dorinde; and knowing, that ſhe was not at the Fountain, ſhe ſent to ſeek her in the Gallery, in the Garden, and every place where it was likely ſhe ſhould be, but hearing no news of her, ſhe ſent to enquire of the Porter, who ſaid, that a little after all the company was gone, ſhe and Merindor were together in a Coach, and went towards Bonlieu. At firſt ſhe thought, that ſince ſhe left her indiſpoſed, ſhe might be gone to divert her ſelf by walking; but afterwards, remembring, that ſince the return of Merindor, Dorinde had been in a very ill humour, [Page] ſhe began to doubt ſomething. And being amidſt her variety of thoughts upon a ſudden ſhe heard the noiſe of ſome horſes. Upon this, ſhe went to the window, and knowing her Coach, ſhe ran to the ſtairs to meet Dorinde, but finding only Merindor, ſhe was much amazed: and to encreaſe her wonder, ſhe ſaw him look like a dead man, pale as aſhes, his eyes red, and countenance ſo dejected, as he was hardly able to go. As ſoon as ſhe had asked where Dorinde was, and the Cavalier made a low Conge, Madam (ſaid he unto her in a tone that teſtified the diſorder of hiſ ſoul) here is it which will inform you: In ſaying ſo, he preſented a Letter unto her: which Amaſis receiving, and opening, ſhe found theſe words.

DORINDES Letter unto AMASIS.

NOw, Madam, the perſidie of Sigiſmond has plainly ſhewed me, that there is no fidelity to be found amongſt men; and his Treaſon hath put me out of all hopes to govern an Empire here below, I am reſolved to ſeek for a Crown in heaven: I muſt confeſſe, that when I firſt heard the news of his change, my love did condemn his violated faith; but ſince, having well conſidered the tranquillity it will procure unto me, I thought that I had more reaſon to commend, then complain againſt him. The truth is, that having received ſo many favours from you, it was my duty to acknowledge them; but ſince I was able to do it only in my wiſhes, in what place could I do it more to your advantage, then in this which I am in queſt of? For, Madam, it is there, where my mind being freed from the Interests of the world, will become acquainted with the gods, who perhaps, for your ſake, will ſo far pity me, as to grant the effecting of my deſires & hopes: If you think my departure without taking leave of you, a crime, accuſe only the good will you ever expreſſed unto me, which made me fear, that if I had acquainted you with my reſolution, perhaps [...]ou would not have it ſufficient: I may ſay, Madam, that Sigiſmonds disdain ſo ſurprized me, as made me like unto thoſe who are forced to go out of the world, without ſo much leaſure as to make their laſt Will. But admit I had the leaſure, alas, what was in my power to diſpoſe of, ſince from the first minute I had the honour to be known unto you, I was wholly yours; Now, Madam. be not angry that I do not divide my poſſeſsion with any but the gods, who, unwilling I ſhould languiſh under the tyranny of a man, have permitted. that by half a ring my whole heart ſhould be reſtored unto me: If theſe words need any interpretation, I leave the charge of it unto Merindor, and to tell you, Madam, that in what place ſoever I am, and into what condition ſoever I am brought, I ſhall be ſtill your moſt humble ſervant,

Dorinde.

Whilſt Amaſis was reading this Letter, Merindor obſerved a great alteration in her countenance; and ſeeing her eyes began to be moiſt, he thought them cauſed for Dorindes departure. Indeed, ſhe had no ſooner read it all, but tears trickled down right: But, O Merindor (ſaid ſhe) is it certain that Sigiſmond has failed in his word? The faith of Princes has no priviledge above others. Madam (anſwered the Cavalier) your queſtion requires a long diſcourſe, by way of anſwer; and ſince Dorinde has commanded me to acquaint you with all circumſtances, I ſhall tell you as much as ſhe knows her ſelf, if your patience will be pleaſed to beſtow the hearing in private. I will (ſaid Amaſis) I do paſſionately deſire to know the truth of it.

[Page]Upon this ſhe took the Cavalier by the hand: and after ſhe had told the Druide that ſhe had ſome buſineſs to confer upon, with Merindor, ſhe carryed him into the Garden, and chuſing out the cloſeſt Arbour, ſhe ſate down, and commanding him to do the like, he began his diſcourſe thus.

The Sequell of DORINDES Hiſtory.

I Am to relate unto you Madam, a treaſon ſo great, that if you do not perfectly know what power love has over a ſpirit, doubtleſs you will think me moſt culpable in during to be only a complice of ſuch a wickedneſs: but becauſe it is an accident which hapned ſince Sigiſmond departed from you, I will take the ſtory in its order and tell you Madam that as ſoon as we ſet forward, Ligonias, diſpatched a poſt ſecretly unto Gondebaut to advertiſe him of Sigiſmond and Godomars arrivall, and leaſt he ſhould be ſurpriſed, with the arrivall alſo of Roſilion, and the reſt of the Cavaliers; The King therefore the next morning waited upon by almoſt all the nobility in the Countrey, did ſeem as if he would go a hunting: and taking that way which the Princes were to come, they met them about a league from Lyons. This meeting was worth the ſeeing; for Sigiſmond and Godomar, knowing the King at a good diſtance off did alight from their horſes, and comming on foote, he was no ſooner alighted from his alſo but they caſt themſelves at his feet, and with much humble ſubmiſſion asked pardon for parting from him. The King received them with open arms, and with ſingular expreſſions of joy at their return did promiſe to forgive, and forget all that was paſt, provided they would not give any new cauſes of complaint. Roſilion in the mean time came up, and Sigiſmond ſhewing him to the King. Gondebaut offered unto him the ſervice of himſelf, and Kingdom with extraordinary expreſſions of welcome. Afterwards, he embraced Lindamor, and Godomar telling him, that this was he whoſe arms had prevailed over Polemas. I am very glad (ſaid he) that his valour did make to appear us the injuſtice of that rebell, which he had with covered a legitimate pretence: after this, he received thoſe honours which Damon, Alcidon and the reſt, did unto him. After which, all taking horſe they rid towards the Town.

As ſoon as they were come within half a league; they diſcovered a great multitude of men, ranged into Battalia, as if they ready to give a battle; They were variouſly armed: ſome with ſlings: ſome with bows and arrows: others with pikes, on one arme a backler, and cimiters by there ſides. They were about eighteen thouſand in number, which made Roſilion believe that it was the reſt of the Army which he had ſent againſt Marcellis: Gondebout, the Princes, and all the reſt did paſſe through the midſt of them: and they were no ſooner through, but they were met by four thouſand horſe, which waited upon them into the Town.

At the gates, Clotilda waited for their comming, and with her a hundred of the faireſt Ladies in all Lions, who appeared upon milk white Horſes, with ſeemed proud to bear ſuch loudes of beauty. At the arrivall of the Princes, Clotilda only alighted, whom Sigiſmond and Godamar embraced, and whom Roſilion, Damon, Lindamor, and Alcidon ſaluted with all poſſible honour and reſpect. Afterwards they all got up again, and went unto the Temple of Venus, where the muſique of voices, and inſtruments received them, and helped to render thanks unto the gods for their ſafe return: from thence they went unto the Athenian Garden, where Gondebaut had the lodgings of Roſilion, and was pleaſed that Sigiſmond, Godamar and Clotilda, ſhould alſo be there to keep him Company.

All this day was ſpent in feaſts, and when night came all the Court went upon the water to ſee ſome fireworks of joy which were prepared juſt where the roſne, and the Arar do contract a marriage, and from thence till they come to the Sea, do lie lovingly together in one bed; one might well imagine that this was not done without deſign, but this place was purpoſely choſen to denote the reunion of Children and Father. But however, many fine ſights were ſeen, and the King [Page] returned ſingularly well ſatisfied. For my part, my greateſt admiration was the diligence of the workmen, and excellence of their invention, having ſo ſhort a time for it.

Now Madam I have inſiſted upon theſe things, not as abſolutly neceſſary to the purpoſe, nor as altogether uſeleſſe: for they were no ſooner returned to the Palace, but Roſilion being conducted to his Chamber by the Princes, every one retired to their own Chambers to reſt: But Gondebaut who could not take any, and whom the intereſt of Dorinde ſo perplixed, in lieu of goeing to bed, he thought the time would be better ſpent in endeavouring to know upon what terms Sigiſmond ſtood with her: and becauſe he ſuppoſed that before Clotilda, ſlept Sigiſmond would ſurely come and give her an accompt, he paſſed through ſome Chambers untill he came unſeen or unheard, unto the dore which was cloſe by the bed of that young Princeſſe. He had not liſtned there above a quariter of an hovre, but Sigiſmond came as ſuppoſed: and becauſe that was the place where they ordinarily retired, not to be heard by thoſe that were in the room, they came thither and ſate down, little dreaming of Gondebauts jealouſie.

I underſtood ſince (for the King intending to make uſe of me, freely acquainted me with all things) that Sigiſmond began to talk very advantageouſly of you, and of Galatheas beauty, and alſo if all the Nimphes about you: from thence he fell to ſpeak of Dorinde: and becauſe that was it which the King moſt longed to hear, he liſtned more attentively, and hear Sigiſmond ſay; But Siſter (for ſo he called Clotilda) is it not ſtrange the King ſhould be ſo much againſt my loving her; when love will never let me depart from her ſervice? were I not to blame if I d [...]d not follow my own inclination, and if I did obey the commands of a man before the commands of a god? I know very well, that I am obliged unto him for my being, and that I ought to die rather then diſpleaſe him: but yet if he would have me live, he muſt let me love Dorinde; For as long as I am Sigiſmond, it is impoſſible I ſhould do otherwiſe. He added unto this ſome other diſcourſe, whith Gondebaut liſtned unto very attentively, and unto which Clotilda anſwered with all poſſible modeſty: ſometimes hinting unto him his duty unto the quality of a King, and ſometimes, confeſſing that his paſſion did in ſome ſort render his diſobedience excuſable; But at laſt Sigiſmond falling to talk of the paſſages in Marcelles relating to his love, he acquainted her with Dorindes diſtruſt of him: with the oathes of fidelity which he had ſworn unto her, and laſtly how they broke a ring, and each to keep a half: after this he put his hand into his pocket, and pulling out a little caſe, ſhe ſhewed her Dorindes Picture. But Gondebaut could not ſee it for both the dore was ſhut, and there was a hanging which hindred: only he thought that Clotilda held it in her hand; at which, he was not a little contented, hoping that ſhe would help him to break of all this correſpondency.

Having by this thrick full information of all he deſired to know he retired, and Sigiſmond alſo; but the did not paſſe away the night in the ſame manner: For the Prince reſted ſoundly like a man that was contented: but the King did hardly ſleep at all; For jealouſy had opened both his eyes and his judgment; and made him ſtudy till morning how he might divert the mind of Sigiſmond from Dorinde.

Day did ſupriſe him in his muſing thoughts: and when it was time to riſe, he pretended to be a little ill that he might lie in bed all the morning. Yet not to trouble any one; he ſent for Sigiſmond, and after he had commanded him to carry Roſilion, and the reſt of the Caveliers a hunting he aſſured him he would be up that their return. Sigiſmond obeyed the King commanded, for where his love was not concerned, he would content him in any thing; In the mean time Gondebaut ſent for Clotilda into hus Chamber; whom he cauſed to ſit pown by bed, and afterwards he ſpoke unto her in theſe termes.

I will not put you in mind, Clotilda, of your obligations to me, ſince you cannot remember the death of your Parents, nor how at this very inſtant you are beholding unto me for your life; It was my clemency that ſaved you from the ſhipwrak where upon they were loſt; and though I might in juſtice have made [Page] you periſh with them, yet my pity reſtained me, and I was pleaſed to ſpare you: as you have hither to not he been backward in acknowledging this favour, ſo I hope that for the future I ſhall have no cauſe to accuſe you of ingratitude, but will ſerve me upon any occaſion wherein I ſhall imploy you; if ſo, never do doubt but I ſhall do for you any thing within the compaſſe of my power. To this Clotilda anſwered that ſhe would alwayes obey his commands, though to the expence if her life: and that her greateſt glory would be in doeing any acceptable ſervice. Then Gondebaut replied thus: that which I require of you my dear Daughter (for ſo he called her when he was in a good humour) is not to tell me what diſcourſe Sigiſmond, and you had ſince his return, for I know that as well as your ſelf; but I would have you take ſome paines in helping me to ruine that affection which I know has already taken too deep root. And that you may not think but I know ſomething of the buſineſs I will acquaint you with moſt of the particulars; upon this he caſt his eyes upon the young Princeſſe and ſeeing her bluſh, I perceive (ſaid he) that my diſcourſe does aſtoniſh you; but you will have greater cauſe when you have heard all. Did not Sigiſmond come into your Chamber the laſt night after I was retired, and by your beds ſide told you all that had paſſed in Marcelles betwixt him and Dorinde? Did he not ſhew unto you half a ring which he ſaid was a ſecret betwixt them invented to defeat all practiſes to ſeperate their wills? Upon this Clotilda was quite out of countenance, and in her aſtoniſhment, not knowing where he ſhould hear all theſe things, ſhe was ſo affraid that he would puniſh her for entertaining the ſecrets of Sigiſmond that falling down upon her knees, ſhe began to implore his mercy, and aske him pardon. But the King commanding her to riſe, he took her hand, and kiſſed her; Nay nay Daughter (ſaid he) never fear that you have angred me; I know what care you have taken to quench his flame, and I am ſure, it is not long of you, that he has not complied with my humour; but ſince neither your endeavours nor mine can bring him to that paſſe I conceive it expedient, to this which I will communicate unto you as the laſt remedye: in ſaying ſo, he cauſed her to ſit down at his beds feet, and then he continued thus,

It is probable Clotilda that you do know what ſperit Dorinde is of, and that being of ſo ambitious a temper as ſhe is, no doubt but though Sigiſmond be very amiable and hanſome, yet ſhe loves him as much for his quality as his perſon. Now you muſt know that when ſuch perſons of her quality, do arrive at any high degree of honour, they alwayes become moſt inſufferable, and uſe a moſt tirannicall, and dominering authority over all: they think the Sunnes does ſhine only to pleaſe them, and charge the earth with ingratitude, if it do not produce her faireſt flowers in all places where they ſhall honour it with their feet; Truth is, they are full of ſo much dangerous vanity, that (judging falſly of all things) if they think any one to be an obſtacle unto their fortune or ambition, they preſently are plotting to ruine them; and are never quiet till they have done it. I ſpeak this, partly in relation unto you Clotilda; to the end you may ſecure your ſelf ſo, as though I ſhould faile you, yet, that you may never fall into ſuch extremities as I have mentioned, which doubtleſſe will come to paſſe, if Dorinde ever bring about her deſignes: for as ſoon as ever Sigiſmond marry her, ſhe, who as you know is only the Daughter of Arcingentorix, will become ſo proud to ſee her ſelf Queen of the Burgundians, as for getting her ſelf, ſhe will alſo forget what is due unto your merit and quality; The vaſt difference that is betwixt her extraction and yours, will make her ſo aſhamed to appear where you ſhould be, as perhaps will beget ſuch a hatred in her ſoul, that your life may be in danger. This is the danger, which threatens you: and if you do come to a fatall end, it is meerly your own fault, ſince the remedy is yet in your own hands, which is Clotilda, by all meanes to quench this fire, which has already broken out into ſuch great flames.

Judge Madam, how eaſily the ſpirit of a young lady might receive all the impreſſions: The King had no ſooner done his diſcourſe but he had infuſed a ſtrange miſtruſt in to the ſoul of this young Princeſſe, that all theſe misfortunes would come to paſſe in caſe this affection continued: So as forgetting what ſhe owed [Page] unto the amity of Sigiſmond, and preparing her ſelf to do whatſoever the King commanded againſt Dorinde; Sir, anſwered ſhe, my fears of being miſerable, ſhall not be the motive to make me obey you; but it ſhall be my deſires to make you know that I will never be ungrateful unto your goodneſs: Therefore I moſt humbly beſeech you to tell me what I muſt do, that I may preſently begin it, and by that you may judge of my affection. Truth is (ſaid the King) haſte is very requiſite in the buſineſs; for in ſuch matters, delays are dangerous, and often marre all; you muſt therefore of neceſſity get that half Ring which is in the hands of Sigiſmond, with all poſſible expedition. Oh Sir (ſaid Clotilda, and interrupted) I doubt it is impoſſible; for did you ſee with what care he kept it, you would wonder; he looked upon it, he kiſſed it, he laid to his heart, he talked to it as if Dorinde were preſent; and therefore I am afraid that being ſo tranſported with this paſſion, it will be a great difficulty to get it from him. It is not my deſign to attempt it openly (ſaid the King) or by violence, you know ſuch ways have been already uſed without effect; but I would have us go about it by cunning, and do all that poſſibly we can to deceive him: Oh (replied Clotilda) it is hard deceiving ſuch miſtruſtful ſpirits as his: you may be deceived (replied Gondebaut) ſo you will do as I ſhall direct, which doubtleſs will be an eaſie matter to do, ſince he takes you under the notion of a confident, and not as one who would divert his affection.

Clotilda promiſing to do her beſt, the King continued thus: You daughter have ſeen this Ring, and you know what mettle and ſize it is, get another made of the ſame, and as like it as you can; then breaking it in two, keep the one half, Sigiſmond will certainly come to you, as he did the laſt night, and will be as cerimonious to this Ring as before: when he does, take your half in one hand, and take his in the other, and when he asks for it again, in lieu of his, give him yours; it is impoſſible he ſhould perceive it; for not having the other to compare them together, nor miſtruſting your deſign, he will beleive it the ſame he brought from Marcelles, which done, we will proceed further, and to morrow I will tell you how,

Clotilda thought this invention to be excellent, and very feaſable; and after ſhe had ſworn to uſe her beſt endeavours: Well Clotilda (ſaid Gondebaut) you muſt now give me this contentment, ſince you have ſworn it, and I deſire it: This invention is the only Remedy we have, and I will uſe it: If you do your beſt endeavours, you ſhall ere long ſee how much I love you; and if on the contrary, I find you fail me, and that my deſign do come to be diſcovered (which can no way be but by want of good-will, or groſs indiſcretion) be certain, I will take it as the greateſt injury I ever received from any enemy. To which Clotilda anſwered, that ſhe would ſooner dye then fail in the leaſt of his Commands: After which, the King kiſſed her; ſhe went out of the Chamber, and he got out of his bed.

I wil not abuſe your ears, Madam, with too preciſe a relation of every particular circumſtance, which is not fully pertinent to my purpoſe; It will ſuffice you know that all this day was ſpent in hunting, and part of the night in dancing, After which Sigiſmond failed not to accompany Clotilda in her Chamber; for in the abſence of Dorinde, he took delight in nothing ſo much as in talking with her: Amongſt other diſcourſe they fell into talk of the Ring; and as ſoon as Sigiſmond had taken it out of his Box, he ſhewed it unto the Princeſs, who took it into her hand as if ſhe deſired to look upon the faſhion of it; whe ſhe had it, ſhe put both her hands behind her, ſhe left Sigiſmonds Ring on the ſtool, and kept only that which ſhe had provided; afterwards holding out both her hands to him ſhut: I hold a wager (ſaid ſhe unto him) that you gueſs not in which it is. The Prince, who never miſtruſted her fallacie; I hold a wager (ſaid he and ſmiled) it is in that hand: In ſaying ſo, he touched Clotildas right hand, and opening it he found only the counterfeit of that which he ſought for; yet ſuppoſing it to be the very ſame which Dorinde gave him, he innocently took it, and looking upon the Princeſs: Oh Siſter (ſaid he and ſmiled) you muſt know that love can do any thing, and though he be blind, yet [Page] nothing can be hid from him: In ſsaying ſo, he laid this counterfeit part of the Ring to his lips, and Clotilde ſeeing him kiſs it with ſo much devotion and zeal, ſhe could not chuſe but ſmile; but preſently after hearing him ſigh, her ſoul reſented ſome little kind of compaſſion; and therefore ſhe ſaid unto her ſelf, Oh Sigiſmond, didſt thou but know how much miſery my Artifice is preparing for thee, thou wouldſt turn all thy ſighs of love into ſighs of rage and diſpair: Upon this thought ſhe repented that ever conſented unto this Treaſon; but then calling to memory the diſcourſe of Gondebaut, and conſidering how inevitable her ruine would be, if ſhe did not purſue her enterpriſe, ſhe thought it beſt to finiſh what ſhe had ſo happily begun: But becauſe the night was far ſpent, and Sigiſmond who would never have been weary of her company, did not think of retiring, ſhe put him in minde of it; and when he was gone ſhe went to bed.

The next morning, ſhe got up betimes, becauſe ſhe imagined the King would ſend for her, to what ſhe had done: And indeed ſhe was no ſooner dreſt, but a Meſſenger came according to her expectation: As ſoon as ſhe came into his Chamber; Come Clotilda (ſaid the King unto her) have we gotten this Ring? we cannot get it (anſwered Clotilde and ſmiled) out of his hands; why? (replied Gondebaut, and began to be angry) becauſe it is not there (anſwered Clotilda and ſtill ſmiled) for it is in mine; and that you may not doubt of it, ſee here the accompliſhment of your deſire, and my promiſe.

Upon this, the King took it, and ſeeming highly ſatiſfied with the diligence of Clotilda; Do not think (ſaid he) that whilſt you were at work, I was idle; they have promiſed to bring me a man hither this morning, whoſe name is Squillinder, and who, if I miſtake not, did formerly live in Forreſts, and fled hither for refuge: Now they tell me this man is the rareſt in the world at counterfetting all manner of hands; which if he be, he ſhall write a Letter from Sigiſmond unto Dorinde, that will do the deed; only one thing troubles me, I cannot think upon one that is fit to execute the reſt of my plot; for he muſt be a man of excellent wit and judgment, and one, if poſſible, that has ſome colour of pre [...]ence with Dorinde; after that Sigiſmond has quitted his inintereſt.

Then Clotilda began to think a little; afterwards upon a ſudden: There are many (ſaid ſhe) who have loved her, and I know two who do at this very inſtant loue her, and are here; you may chuſe which of them you think moſt fit for your purpoſe: Then ſhe named Periander, and Merindor. As ſoon as the King heard my name, he clapped his hands together, and ſeemed to be extreamly glad: I am certain (ſaid he) this Cavileir will do whatſoever I ſhall bid him. There needed no more but to conſult with me about him: Oh Great Gods! what Soveraign Authority has Kings over us? And how hard it is for us to reſiſt the charms of their Commands, eſpecially when they come with any appearance of Juſtice: Gondebaut had not ſooner ſent for me, but he told me all that I have told you; and after this, and a world of mountainous promiſes, in caſe I could win Dorinde to marry me, he did inſenſibly engage me to do whatſoever he would. He had no ſooner got his promiſe from me, but I ſaw a young man enter, who, ſince they told me was Nephew unto Ardilan, whom Godamar killed: he brought with him this Squillinder, whom I ſpoke of before, and who, perhaps Madam, you have heard of, ſince he lived in your Provinces: He did not only live here (anſwered the Nymph) but was born here in a Town called Argental; and I know him to be a man of good wit, if he would well imploy it: However, replied Merindor, he is extreamly ſubtle, and one may know it by his very looks and mind: But Madam, to hold you in this diſcourſe no longer: Gondebaut did make very much of him, and having imparted his mind unto him, he ſhewed unto him one of Sigiſmonds Letters; And after an injunction of eternal ſilence, and a large recompence if he would but counterfeit the hand, he ſet him to work, he himſelf dictating this Letter.

[Page]

The counterfeit Letter of SIGISMOND unto DORINDE.

IT is rather thy Tyranny of Gondebaut, then any conſent of my will, which has made me a Husband unto a Daughter unto the King of the Theurons: My deſpair is ſo great, that I cannot entertain you with thoſe ſorrows which I ſuffer by reaſon of this conſtraint: And this half Ring which I ſend you back, will tell you that there is no remedy left againſt my misfortune: I wiſh I were able to give you any conſolation; but ſince I cannot comfort my ſelf; what can I invent to comfort you?

The Truth is Dorinde, I am married, and I wiſh I could alſo ſay that I were dead, but Heaven is pleaſed to let me live only to reſent our ſeparation with more ſadneſs: Let that Neceſsity which hath forced me to violate my Faith unto you, excuſe my change; And if you have any inclination to oblige me, find that happineſs in the Arms of Merindor, which our bad deſtinies denies you to find from Sigiſmond.

Whilſt the King did dictate, Squillander did write this Letter; and when hee had done, Gondebaut compared it with Sigiſmonds, but found them ſo extreamly alike, as had hee not ſeen it written before his face, hee would have ſworn it to be the hand of his Son.

This done, Gondebaut diſmiſſed Squillander, and commanded Ardilan to recompence double to what the Fellow could expect: After this, hee turned himſelf unto mee; See here Menandor (ſaid hee unto mee) now all depends upon your good management of the matter: I have already told you, that if you proceed handſomly, you ſhall receive advantages from mee beyond your imagination, beſides the ſatisfaction of your Love unto Dorinde: you have wit enough to manage this mater aright; and though you had no intereſt in it but mine, yet that is enough to make mee hope well in your proceeding, I would have you go about it as ſoon as poſſibly you can, and that you go unto Dorinde as ſent from Sigiſmond: When you come firſt to her, upon the firſt opportunity of diſcourſes, tell her that ſhee is not to pretend any more unto the Crown of the Burgundians, ſince it is already deſtiny'd from the daughter of the King of Theurons, to whose Ambaſſadors, Sigiſmond and I have ſigned the Articles: I know that this will much afflict her; but a man of your accompliſhments will make her take this loſſe with little grief; eſpecially if you tell her, (as your Love will dictate unto you) that ſtill ſhee ſhall be a Queen, and raign ſoveraignly in your heart. I anſwered him, That I was wholly devoted to obey his commands, but there was one obſtacle in my way, which was, that I was engaged to run at the Ring with Prince Sigiſmond this very day; and ſhould I fail him, ſomething might perhaps be ſuſpected.

Upon this, the King ſcratched his head a long time together, and ſaid not a word: afterwards upon a ſudden, It is no matter (ſaid hee) if you go not till night; for let Roſilion, Lindamor and the reſt of the Cavaliers be as haſty as they will to return unto Amaſis, I ſhall ſtay them till to morrow, to the end, that before they can tell Dorinde Sigiſmond is not married, you may have time enough to get her conſent to marry you: and if I be not much miſtaken, you will finde no great difficulty in it: For very ſpite to ſee that Sigiſmond has caſt her off, will make her content to what you will; and to be revenged, will give unto you that Empire which my ſon pretended unto. Which if it come to paſſe, never fear what Sigiſmond can do afterwards: For if hee offer to attempt any thing againſt you, or againſt my ſervice, I ſhall take a courſe to keep him within compaſſe of his duty. This Madam, was the command which I received [Page] from the King, and which Love making mee as blinde as himſelf did move me to undertake: For certainly, had I not been ſtark blinde, I ſhould have foreſeen the misfortune which hapned unto mee ſince. But to proceed; be pleaſed to know, Great Nymph, that the Courſe at the Ring being ended▪ where every one did very well, and wherein Roſilion and Lindamor amongſt the reſt, did get a moſt high eſteem, I departed with a reſolution to ride all the night; but it began to rain ſo extreamly, as I was conſtrained to tarry at the firſt Town I came at. The next morning, which was yeſterday, I got up betimes, and came unto you very early. I ſhall not need to tell you with what an eye Dorinde looked upon mee, for you were a witneſſe of it: but let mee tell you, it was with a kinder aſpect than ſhee would, had ſhee known the meſſage which, I brought, I told her, that I had a Letter to preſent unto her from Prince Sigiſmond: and then I ſaw through her eyes the contentment of her ſoul; but becauſe you were ready to ſit down at the Table, I did not preſent it untill wee were riſen. Perhaps Madam, you obſerved how ſhee took mee aſide: Indeed I did (anſwered Amaſis) and I made a doubt whether it was for the love of Sigiſmond or yourſelf: Then Madam you muſt know (ſaid Merindor) that ſeeing none near to interrupt us, firſt ſhee asked for the Letter which the Prince had ſent; upon which, ſeeming to look for it, and in ſome ſort to prepare her for reading of it. But fair Dorinde (ſaid I) it ſeems you expect ſome great contentment from this Letter: Why not? (anſwered ſhee and ſmiled) ſince the Prince has done mee the honour to write it. I cannot tell (ſaid I, and ſeemed as if I could not yet finde it) but upon this I ſtopped: And Dorinde looking mee in the face, ſhee found there ſuch coldneſſe, as ſhee began to fear that all was not ſo well as ſhee imagined: ſhee preſently changed colour, and hoping that I ſaid ſo only to deceive her, It ſeemes Merindor (ſaid ſhee unto mee) you have a minde to make mee buy the contentment of this Letter very dear: but pray give it mee; for the favour is at ſo high a rate, as I ſhall never be able to pay it. Shee had no ſooner ſaid ſo, but I found it, and preſenting it unto her, Here Madam (ſaid I) may you finde in it as much contentment as you expect. Theſe words did renew the feares of Dorinde, ſo as receiving the Letter with a troubled countenance, ſhee opened it with a trembling hand, and at laſt read it: Shee had no ſooner read two or three of the firſt lines, but ſhee tryed whether or no her eyes had deceived her; and pointing with her finger at the words which were ſo diſpleaſing unto her, in hopes to find ſome other ſence in them, ſhe ſtill found the ſame, and ſo read on to the end of this ſad Letter. And when ſhee came to the place where Sigiſmond adviſed her to ſeek for happineſſe in my armes, anger did then ſurpriſe her, and I heard her ſay in a low voice, Yes, yes, perſidious man, could I but pull out of thy breaſt that heart which thou didſt promiſe to preſerve ſo faithfully: upon this, ſhee began to ſigh, and to be quite out of countenance; ſo as ſhe cryed in good earneſt: And chuſing rather that I ſhould be a witneſſe of her teares, then you, ſhee turned her ſelf towards mee, and when ſhee could ſpeak, ſaid thus unto mee: I cannot tell Merindor, from whence ſuch a ſudden change ſhould proceed; Pray tell mee, if you can? Faire Dorinde (ſaid I unto her) perhaps that Letter will give you a better accompt then I can: No (anſwered ſhee) it mentions nothing at all, but onely that hee is married, and I wiſh to heaven I had dyed before I heard that word: Then Madam, replied I, I ſhall acquaint you with the Circumſtances, to the end I may leſſen your ſorrowes and pardon his Infidelitie. Then I told her all that I could invent to colour this Lye: I told her that Sigiſmond was no ſooner entered into Lyons, but Embaſſadours from the King of Theurons came to treat about this alliance: and that Gondebaut having found it very advantageous, had turned every ſtone, and uſed ſo many arguments to perſwade Sigiſmond unto it, as at the laſt hee conſented: That afterwards, the Prince would have ſtoln away, but being prevented, Clotilda was imployed to perſwade him unto this marriage: That this Princeſſe was once out of all hopes to bring it about; but at laſt, ſhee tampered ſo with him, and had ſuch a prevalence with him, as ſhee made him ſigne the Articles, and at the [Page] ſame time procured from him this Letter, and this half of a Ring which I come to reſtore unto you. To this I added a thouſand ſignes of ſorrow, that I ſhould be the meſſenger of ſuch ſad newes: and only received the Commiſſion to get the opportunity of putting her in memory of my former ſervices, and not to grieve her. My diſcourſe; and her teares did end both together, and I proteſt Madam, I was amuzed to ſee her ſorrowes ſo ſoon vaniſh; at leaſt; I obſerved in her countenance a moſt ſtrange alteration, and was the moſt ſurpriſed man in the world, when I heard her ſay; Since I muſt knew the treaſon of this perſidious Prince, I am not ſorry Merindor, that you have brought mee the newes. Know therefore, that I will content you for it very ſhortly, and end my dayes with you. After this, ſhee left mee and went towards you: For my part, I was the moſt ſatisfied man upon earth; and wiſhed that the night was already paſt, hoping ſhee would perform her promiſe in the morning: which indeed ſhee did; but Madam in a farre different manner from what I expected: and ſee how ſhee went to work. Shee feigned her ſelf to be ſ [...]ek, to have a pretence of asking your Coach, and afterwards to take a way quite contrary unto yours. You, who never ſuſpected her deſigne, did lend it unto her: but you were no ſooner gone, then ſhee took mee unto the Coach with her, and commanded the Coachman to carry her unto Bonlieu. I, who thought upon nothing but my Love, and the promiſe which ſhee had made mee night before: But faire Dorinde (ſaid I unto her) what moves you to go unto Bonlieu? I am reſolved (ſaid ſhee) to keep my word with you, though Sigiſmond has broke his: I muſt confeſſe my blood began to riſe at this, and was joyed beyond all expreſſions. Therefore kiſſing her hand; I vow, faireſt Dorinde (ſaid I unto her) that you will be the happieſt of all women: I expect no leſſe (anſwered ſhee) for otherwiſe I ſhould not thus diſpoſe of my ſelf.

With ſuch diſcourſe as this, wee came to the Temple which they told mee was dedicated unto a Virgin, which was to have a childe. There Dorinde cauſed the Coach to ſtay, and deſired mee to ſtay in it whilſt ſhee talked a little with one of the Druides which belonged to the Temple: I waited there almoſt two houres; and when I began to be paſt all patience; I heard one call mee. Upon this I looked round about; and ſeeing no body, I heard a voice again which bad mee come into the Hall, the doore whereof was immediately opened unto mee. I, who knew not what belonged, or to what purpoſe this was, entered in, and ſpyed Dorinde in great barres of iron; ſo cloſe as one might onely ſee but not come unto her: Now Merindor (ſaid ſhee unto mee) ſee the performance of my promiſe; here will I die to all the world; and by you as I promiſed: Carry this Letter unto Amaſis; and if ſhee ask you the reaſon of this my holy reſolution, tell her it was your voyage: Ache [...]. Upon this ſhee caſt a Letter at my feet; and drawing a curtain which hindered mee from the ſight of her, I earneſtly entreated to ſee her once more; but do all I could, it was not to be obtained: Seeing then all my prayers and my teares were in vaine, I took up the Letter, and returned in your Coach to give it unto you, with an exact accompt of Gondebauts Treaſon, of my owne indiſcretion, and of Dorindes deſpaire.

This was the diſcourſe of Merindor, at which Amaſis could not reſtrain her tears; and doubtleſſe her grief had been greater, had ſhe not known; that there was a remedy. Chearing up her ſelf therefore, in hopes to hinder Dorinde from confi [...]ing her ſelf for ever, amongſt the Carnates, ſhe roſe up, and in returning to the houſe: Merindor (ſaid ſhe) you have done very well in advertiſing me of this accident ſo ſoon: for yet there is time to remedy it, becauſe, do what Dorinde can, it will be two months before her vow will be received, to admit her amongſt the reſt. Madam (anſwered Merindor) I make no doubt of what you ſay, but I fear it will be a great difficulty to perſwade Dorinde that Sigiſmond has not deceived her: The plot has been acted ſo cunningly, and they have gloſſed it with ſo many colours of truth, as it is hard to be known for a falſhood: But, Madam, I am in a moſt deſperate condition, for now there is no place where I [Page] can find any ſafe Sanctuary: Sigiſmond will not ſooner hear of my doing, but he will with all his power ruine me, and I cannot condemn him for it: for I do acknowledge my fault, and know, that I ought not for an Empire to conſent unto any wicked action. In this (ſaid Amaſis) there are many things to excuſe you; and though I did not bring your love to Dorinde for one, yet it was a hard task for you not to obey Gondebaut, who would himſelf have ruined you, had you refuſed to execute his command. Still, Madam (replied Merindor) it had been more glorious to periſh that way then the other, and it would have been great ſatisfaction to die without ſhame, or a ſtain upon my reputation. All thoſe ſaid Amaſis) who know the power of a paſſion, when it is ſeconded with the command of ſuch a King as Gondebaut, will rather find matter of excuſe, then matter of condemnation: However, I offer you ſafe retreat with me, and promiſe to make your peace with Sigiſmond, provided, that as you have contributed in the fault, [...]o you will be an aſſiſtant in the reparation of it, Madam, anſwered the Cavalier, my deſign was to go and die amongſt the tranſaſpines, under another name then my own: The glory of war invited my courage thither; but ſince you conceive me neceſſary cure to the wound which I have made; I do in all humility accept of your offer; and promiſe, Madam, to ſpare nothing that is whithin the compaſs of my power, to reſtore unto Dorinde that contentment which I would have robbed her of.

After this, they went into, the chamber of Adamas, when Amaſis found beyond meaſure afflicted; and after ſhe had ſpent part of the day with him, ſhe called for Roſanira, Calathea, and the reſt, becauſe ſhe deſired to go home betimes, that ſhe might the ſooner get Dorinde out of the place; unto which ſhe had confined her ſelf.

Amaſis did not acquaint neither Galathea, nor Roſanira, with Dorindes reſolution, becauſe ſhe thought to divert her from it before they ſhould ere know it; only ſhe told them, that ſhe was going to Bonlieu, and, that being deſirous to viſit the Temple of Carnates, ſhe intended to ſpend all the whole day there. They caſtly believe the Nymph, and the ſooner, becauſe not knowing of Gondebauts plot, they did not think that Dorinde had any reaſon to leave the world. But when they deſired leave to wait upon the Nymph thither, and ſhe denied them, then they began to ſuſpect ſomething of the buſineſs. Yet, leſt they ſhould diſpleaſe Amaſis, they preſſed her to further, though the ſorrows which they ſaw in the face of Merindor, and the ill humour of Dorinde ever ſince that Cavalier came, had made them extreamly deſirous of it.

Thus, they were no ſooner come to Iſoures, but Amaſis left them there; and without any company but Merindor, ſhe went towards Bonlieu: ſhe had not gone above two or three hundred paces, but ſhe eſpied a man coming in great haſle, and preſently knew him to be the little Meril whom ſhe had left in Marcelles: ſhe cauſed then, the Coach to ſtay, and the little boy was no ſooner come near, but kneeling down upon the ground. Madam (ſaid he with a laughing countenance) Lindamor will be returned within this hour, and the Princes, Rosilion, and Godomar, will come with him: They were much troubled when they found neither you nor any of your Nymphs in the Caſtle; but when they heard where you were, they intended to leave all their Equipage in the Town and come to ſurprize you: The truth is, they came preſently, and I thought fit to advertiſe you, to the end, Madam, you might have time to put things in order for them.

Amaſis was very glad of the news, and little Meril knew it by her carreſſing of him; but Merindor, who knew himſelf culpable, did preſently conceit that Sigiſmond had diſcovered his crime, and had ſent Godomar to take revenge; he looked therefore for the worſt, and reſolved however, to die like a Cavalier: The Nymph obſerved his countenance to change, and therefore asked the cauſe. I knew Madam (anſwered Merindor) that Roſilion, Lindamor, Damon, Alcicon, and the reſt, did not intend to ſtay long after me; but I cannot underſtand, why they ſhould bring back Prince Godomar, ſince here is now no enemies to fight withal, unleſſe he take me for one, by reaſon of the crime when I committed againſt [Page] the contentment of his brother. I believe (replied Amaſis) the reaſon is only, becauſe Lindamor has obliged him to come and ſee me; but after ſhe had commanded to drive back unto the pallace, M [...]rind [...]r (ſaid ſhe) never trouble your ſelf, I will undertake to ſecure you from all the dangers that your ſin does cauſe you to fear.

After ſome other ſuch diſcourſe, the Nymph arrived at Iſoures, and no ſooner ſaw Roſanira, Daphnide, Madonthe, Galathea, and the reſt, but ſhe acquainted them with the good news which Meril brought: The god of Love knows, how they all rejoyced at this; and ſince Roſaniras quality gave her more freedome to teſtifie her reſentments, ſhe was the firſt that ſpoke and asked whether they came to Iſoures; and being anſwered according to her deſires, ſhe run unto the window, to ſee whether they appeared: ſhe preſently heard the noiſe of horſes in the Court, and preſently after ſhe eſpied Roſilion, Godomar, Lindamor, and Damon: ſo as Amaſis, and the Ladies, had hardly ſo much time as to go unto the ſtairs, but they met them with expreſſions of extream contentment: Roſilion was the firſt that asked the reaſon why they were all become Shepherdeſſes, and whilſt Roſanira anſwered, that ſhe was inconſtant in nothing but that change, Godomar looked round about for Dorinde; but having long imployed both his care and time in vain, he addreſſed himſelf unto Amaſis, and asked what was become of her? To whom the Nymph anſwered in a low voice, that ſhe muſt have more leaſure before ſhe could ſatisfie his curioſitie, and that the accidents which had hapned unto that fair one, ſince they went away, deſerved a private audience. They ſeparated themſelves therefore, a little from the company, and preſently after taking Coach, they went out of the Pallace: They were no ſooner in the way to Bonlieu, but Amaſis told him all that ſhe had heard concerning Gondebauts plot, and the reſolution of Dorinde: Yet, before ſhe began this diſcourſe, ſhe made him promiſe, not to deny her a requeſt which ſhe would ask: ſo as, requeſting a pardon for Merindor, he vowed that he would never bear him any ill will.

This diſcourſe did entertain them till they came to the Temple, where Amaſis coming out of the Coach, and intreating Godomar to ſtay in it, ſhe deſired to ſee Dorinde: The doores were immediatly opened, and ſhe was no ſooner entred in, but ſhe was brought out by the ſage Cleontine, who held her by the hand. Amaſis could not chuſe but ſmile, when ſhe ſaw her approach with ſuch a compoſed face of gravity, as if ſhe had been ten years amongſt them: yet ſeeing her time ſhort, ſhe took her aſide, and talked to her in theſe terms.

I do not come, fair Dorinde, to reſiſt your reſolution, for I will approve of it, if you ſhall think it legitimate; but I come only to acquaint you with the moſt black and horrid plot, that ever was invented to deſtroy an affection: It is probable you will give credit unto my words, ſince if you conſider who I am, you may well think I will not authorize any lie. Let me tell you then Dorinde, that you are betrayed: I know it very well, Madam (anſwered Dorinde and interrupted) Merindor has given me ſufficient teſtimonies of it. This is not it, replied Amaſis) which I mean; It is Gondebaut, and not Sigiſmond, who is the Authour of this Perfidie, and to put you out of all doubt, I will faithfully tell you the whole truth: Then Amaſis briefly related unto her the confeſſion of Merindor: but ſeeing Dorinde not at all moved at it, nay rather on the contrary, ſeeming by ſome ſmiles to ſleight and mock at what ſhee ſaid, I perceive (ſaid Amaſis) that you give no credit unto my words; but at my requeſt, go with mee ſo farr as my Coach, and I will give you undeniable teſtimony of it. Dorinde, who thought this only ſome trick of Amaſis, only to carry her away, ſhee proteſted at firſt, that ſhee would not ſtirr out of the Temple; but after, that the Nymph ſwore ſhee would bring her back again, ſhee contented to go: Shee was no ſooner at the Gates, but Godomar came out of the Coach, and taking her in his armes, Siſter (ſaid hee unto her) how can you think it lawfull to diſpoſe of your ſelf againſt all the promiſes which you have made unto Sigiſmond? Dorinde was all amazed at this diſcourſe, and the more, becauſe ſhee did not think that Godomar was returned: Yet a little recollecting her ſelf, Sir (ſaid [Page] ſhe unto him, I thought that his violated faith, would have diſpenced me from all my oaths and promiſes, and that I ought not to be blamed if not being able to imitate his infidility, I make choiſe of a death ſo honourable. D [...]ar Dorinde (replied Godomar) you muſt live long, if you do not die tell my Brother change: I proteſt his love was never ſo great as now, and I will give you a teſtimony of it which perhaps you do not expect, in ſaying ſo he gave her a Letter, in which ſhe found theſe words witten with his blood.

SIGISMONDS Letter unto DORINDE.

THey ſay that blood does emblem [...] cruelty: but I would have this be an eternall mark of my love and loyalty. Receive it, as yours, deareſt Dorinde, and conſider that I ſhall not be coveteous if I conquer your beauty by my armes, as I have already Tryumphed over your heart by my ſervices.

At the ſight of this Letter Dorinde was really moved; and Godomar who perceived it, did take his time ſo well, that his perſwaſions prevailed with her: he ſwore ſo many oathes in excuſe of Sigiſmond, as at laſt ſhe did believe it was only Gondebaut that had deceived her: ſo as not thinking her ſelf obliged to follow her laſt reſolution, ſhe returned with Amaſis, and Godomar to the Palace of Iſoures, where ſhe no ſooner had talked with Merindor, but ſhe reaſumed her good humour.

On the other ſide, after Adamus was quite out of all hopes ever to find any remedy to appeaſe the anger of the gods, and make them ſtay the ſentence which they had pronounced againſt the life of Silvander, he prepared himſelf to obey them, and made a vow that this ſacrifice ſhould be the laſt he would ever make: He therefore commanded the Eutages, and the Vaces to be in readineſs: and he himſelf ſent to erect a pile of faggots near the fountain where the body of Silvander was to be burned; And accordingly, Aurora no ſooner proclamed the return of that bright Planet which was to be a witneſs of this ſad ſpectable, but Silvander aroſe out of bed, and went unto the Druides Chambers, to ſhew that he was ready to go where his fate did call him. Adamas received him with teare, but ſeeing the ſhepherd not at all moved, and that though he had in his face the features of a man that was to die, yet of a man that was contented to die, he could not chuſe but add unto his ſorrows, his admiration to ſee him ſo courageous.

But as the ſpirit of Silvander was very ſtrong to bear out this laſt blow, ſo Dian [...]s was as weak; For this ſhepherdeſs no ſooner ſaw the day appear, but her ſoul was ſwelled with moſt ſenſible afli [...]ion: but ſince ſhe could not ſigh freely enough ſhe ſtole from Aſtrea, and opened the window as ſoftly as ſhe could. There did ſhe fill the air with her ſad breath, and the Ecchoes all about ſeemed to approach her voice, and help her to lament. This ſad entertainment luſted a while: but afterwards looking towards the plaine, ſhe ſaw the Eubages, and the Vaces goeing to the ſacrifice where all her joyes were to be offered in the perſon of Silvander. This object did ſo peirce her to the heart, as never thinking that her gr [...]f would wake Leonide, and Phillis who were a ſleep in the bad cloſe by the window, oh god, cryed ſhe out, now have I but one moment to live: Oh ye cruell executioners of the wrath of angry gods, why ſhould you not be myne. rather then my ſhepherds? Why will not the deſtinies be contented with my life? And ſince it is their pleaſure to puniſh innocence, what moves them to ſpare me? In ſaying ſo ſhe ſighed ſo loud that Phillis waked, who ſeeing Diana all in teares, did quickly gueſſe the cauſe. She got up therefore, and goeing to the window where her Companion was leaning: Siſter, (ſaid ſhe) I do not ask what is the cauſe of your teares becauſe this is the fatall day whereon Silvander is to be vaniſhed from us: Alas alas, replied Diana, though we ſhould loſe the memory of [Page] it, yet yonder objects are able to revive it. Do you not ſee how all the ſhepherds, do leave their houſes, to go and ſee this ſad ceremony? See how carefull they are to riſe betimes, and how they croud in all haeſt, as if the fear of ſome enemy had driven them from their habitations. Good gods? muſt I have ſo many witneſſes of my misfortune? Upon this ſhe ſtopt and was ſilent: and Phillis who did not think it juſtice to comfort her in ſuch a ſad affliction, ſhe durſt not open her lippes to anſwer: but ſtill holding her eyes upon the objects which Diana had ſhewed her, ſhe did by little and little loſe her ſight: for her teares did inſenſibly ſteal it from her.

Leonide and Astrea waked almoſt at the ſame time, and ſeeing Diana and Phillis up, they quickly dreſſed themſelve:s Phillis alſo ſhe dreſſed her ſelf; But Diana who had hardly ſo much ſtrength as to ſuſtain her ſelf, by the perſwaſion of her Companions ſhe lay down upon the bed: Aſtrea and Phillis ſate down by her, and leaſt Bellinde ſhould come and interrupt them, they beſeeched Leonide to contrive it ſo, that ſhe ſhould not come, or at the leaſt till after the ſacrifice: which the Nymph promiſing, ſhe went out, and did as ſhe was deſired: for Bellinde doubting that Diana would ſadly reſent the loſſe of that ſhepherd, ſhe eaſily conſented to let her complain by her ſelf. This little liberty was ſome ſmal comfort to her: but it being almoſt impoſſible that ſo little water ſhould quench ſo great a fire, the eaſe ſhe received was as little as nothing.

In the mean time, the Eubages were come to the houſe of Adamas, and thoſe whom curioſity had invited unto this ſad ſpectable, were waiting round about the houſe, whilſt Amaſis, Godomar, Roſanira Galathea, Roſilion Dorinde, and the reſt were with the Druide. The noiſe of ſo great a Company was ſo loud as it reached the ears of Diana, who doubting the cauſe, did double the ſorrows of her ſoul: Aſtrea, and Phillis did quickly perceive it: but not being able to remedy it, did nothing but accompany the ſighes of this ſad ſhepherdeſſe with theirs. They all drooped in a long ſilence: but Diana upon a ſuddain interrupting their ſilence, deareſt Siſters (ſaid ſhe unto them) the only confidents unto whom I have communicated both my ſorrows and my joyes: pray tell me; Do you not think that the Sun makes more haſt then ordinary, and ſtayes only becauſe Silvander is not yet dead? Alas alas what has this poor ſhepherd done againſt nature, that it ſhould have ſuch a deſire to ſee him periſh? After this ſhe was ſilent: and falling into a profound ſtudy: but is it a ſign of love (replied ſhe upon a ſuddain) or a ſign of ingratitude, if he ſhould depart before he bids me adieu. Dear Aſtrea (ſaid ſhe and turned towards her) for pityes ſake, order it ſo that I may ſee him [...] tell him he need not fear to aflict me more for my ſorrows cannot poſſibly be greater: Good gods (continued ſhe) if he do give his life to obey the deſtinies who are his enemyes, dares he deny to ſpeak one ſingle word to his Miſtreſſe? After this, ſhe began to ſigh again, and Aſtrea who was glad of any occaſion to pleaſe her, ſhe was very willing to undertake this commiſſion and the ſooner becauſe ſhe thought Celadon would be with him: and indeed, ſhe was no ſooner entred into the hall, which was already full of people, but ſhe met him: and Celadon taking her hand and kiſſing it: now (ſaid he) I am ſure it is day, ſince my bright Sun is up: your Sun (anſwered the ſhepherdeſſe) will this day be eclipſed and dark; for the ſorrows of Diana, and the misfortune of Silvander, [...]do cloud her with abundance of grief; then Celadon would have replied: but Aſtrea addreſſing her ſelf unto Adamas, Father (ſaid ſhe unto him in a low voice) Diana will eyther die, or ſee Silvander: and I believe ſhe will turn deſperate, if they will not let him bid her the laſt adieu. The Druide, thinking that without injuſtice, this conſolation could not be denied, he went and preſently advertiſed the ſhepherd: who having no difficulty to ſurmount but this, prepared himſelf to overcome it. Aſtrea then conducted him into the Chamber of this afflicted ſhepherdeſs, and to give them the more opportunity to ſpeak there moſt ſecret thoughts at this laſt meeting, ſhe took Phillis by the hand, and leaving them no other witneſſes but love, and pity, ſhe carryed her into another room.

As ſoon as this ſhepherd came into the Chamber, Diana was ready to go out [Page] of the world: at firſt, ſhe give a great cry; and raiſing her ſelf up a little in her bed, ſhe croſſed her arms, and had ſuch evident ſigns of tranſport in her face, that Silvander after he had a little conſidered them, began to feel all his courage and his ſtrength to fail. That great reſolved ſoul which he had ſhewed till now, was vaniſht, and he was not able to reſiſt thoſe ſorrows which the preſence of Diana cauſed: Thus this poor ſhepherd was no ſooner gotten into the midſt of the Chamber, but his legges failed him: upon which falling, and finding himſelf to ſwound, he fell upon his ſide ſome two paces from the bed of his Miſtreſſe. Diana in the mean while, ſeeing him lie as if he were dead, was grieved to the ſoul that ſhe could not help him: yet thinking it no time to ſtand upon nicities ſhe roſe out of bed in her ſmock, and would have helped him to riſe: but finding no motion in him, ſhe was ready to tender up her ſoul: her diſpair was then at the laſt point, and doubtleſs if grief could have killed her, ſhe had dyed; but being ſtill reſerved for more miſeryes, this accident did not deprive her of ſpeech: for after ſhe had laid her mouth cloſe to the face of Silvander: Poor ſhepherd (ſaid ſhe aloud) am not I a moſt miſerable woman, in being the cauſe of all thy misfortunes? Without me, the deſtinies had ſpared thy life, and if my intereſt had not been enterwoven with thine, they would never have made thee miſerable. Upon this ſhe was ſilent, and love ſucceeding pity, after ſhe had looked about her, and ſaw none to obſerve her actions, ſhe kiſſed him, as if ſhe would inſpire new life into his lippes, or as if ſhe would waken him with the water of her tears: but which ſoever it was, the ſhepherd opened his eyes, as a ſign he was not dead; And though Diana had not taken all that paines but only to revive him, yet was ſhe ſurpriſed becauſe of the condition wherein ſhe was, that ſhe roſe up in all haſt and went into bed; but never minding what ſhe did, ſhe made more haſt then good ſpeed, and knocked her head ſo hard againſt one of the bed poſts, as ſhe fell a croſs over the body of Silvander; Her crye, and the noiſe ſhe made brought Aſtrea, and Phillis into the room, and ſeeing ſuch a pityfull ſpectacle, they made no queſtion but they were both dead for the love of each other: yet comming nearer, they ſaw Silvander move his arm, as if he endeavoured to get it from under the body of Diana, and therefore they took up their Companion, and put her into bed: as they were lifting her up▪ ſhe returned out of her ſwound but becauſe ſhe lay her hand upon her forhead where ſhe felt pain, they took a handkercher and preſſed it ſo hard to the place where ſhe began to ſwell, as little or no mark, appeared afterwards.

Silvander alſo returned perfectly to himſelf; and comming near Dianas bed, as ſoon as Aſtrea, and Phillis were gone to the window; I thought, faireſt Diana (ſaid he unto her) I ſhould have been ſo happy as to die in your preſence; But I ſee the doom of heaven is irrevokable, and I muſt die by the hand of Adamas; This laſt action, which ſeems to oppoſe my felicity, would not much trouble me, did I not ſee a trouble unto you: But deareſt Miſtreſſe of my ſoul, do not let it trouble you at all that I am to be ſacrificed, the gods would have ſome part of me, as well as you: and as I have already ſacrificed my ſoul unto you, ſo they would have me this day ſacrifice my body unto them. In this diviſion the beſt part is yours: for you having my heart, my will, my ſoul, and all its faculties, they have nothing but a bare carcaſſe which is meat for worms or crows. Oh dear (anſwered Diana with a deep ſigh) yet in this, they take part of my happineſſe from me, for when you did ſacrifice your ſoul unto me, it did not imply any ſuch condition, that I ſhould not pretend unto your body: you did give it unto me, without any manner of reſervation, and gave me full power to do what I would with it: and though I have no power to make you live: yet they do moſt tirannically uſurp it from me; but Silvander, ſince they are ſole Arbitrators of our lives, I will yeild this right unto them, and will not grieve for your death, if you will but grant me one conſolation, the hope of which is all the happineſs I have. The ſhepherd who deſired nothing but to pleaſe her did promiſe to deny her nothing. Then (ſaid Diana) I would have you let me die as ſoon as ever I hear that you are out of the world. Diana uttered theſe words with great reſolution, and Silvander was ſo charmed with this laſt teſtimony of her love, that for a [Page] while he was not able to open his lips. At laſt taking her hand, and kiſſing it; Ah my faireſt, would you ſign your affection and my misfortune with your blood? have you ſo much courage as to follow me in this fatal paſſage? and does it not grieve you to leave Paris and your life? Cruel Silvander (replied Diana, and interrupted) canſt thou doubt, but that my paſſion dare attempt any thing?

In ſaying ſo, ſhe ſeemed to be a little troubled; and the ſhepherd knowing that ſhe had reaſon to be angry with him; Dear Diana, replied he, pardon my love if any ſparks of jealouſie ſeemed to appear in it: It is the will of the Gods that you ſhould be the wife of Paris; and if I do fear it, has not my fears a very lawful ground? I know, reylied Diana, that they have ſo ordained it: But in this matter, I ſwear that I will be my own deſtinies: You know Silvander that I can be no bodies but yours, and you ſhall never go into the Elizian fields without me. I will go then (ſaid Silvander) and die with content, in hopes that our abſence will not be long; I will go, my faireſt Diana, and offer unto the God of Love that which belongs unto you; happy ſhall I be in ending my days, if by my example you be not afraid to follow me. Adieu, my faireſt Diana; for pities ſake ſpend theſe laſt munites in remembrance of my ſervices, and confeſs that Heaven is too barbarous in conſenting to our ſeparation.

Then Silvander embraced Diana; ond that Shepherdeſs was ſo moved with theſe laſt words, that hardly being able to ſpeak: Adieu (ſaid ſhe, and broke out into tears) Adieu dear Silvander, be conſtant unto thy Diana, and le [...] her ſee thy love can laſt longer then life: Upon this, her voice failing, ſhe offered to embrace him, but had not ſtrength to lift up her Arm: Silvander in the mean time, got up; and ſeeing Aſtrea and Phillis near: Oh dear companions of my faireſt Miſtreſs (ſaid he unto them) I leave you poſſeſſors of all that happineſs which the preſence of Diana afforded me: And as you have been the only Confidents of her ſecrets and mine, be alſo the faithful witneſſes of the purity of our flames: Then he [...]ad them the laſt adieu, and went out of the Chamber, after he had ſought for the door two or three times; for the pain wherein he was, and the tears which he had ſhed, had equally troubled both his judgment, and his ſight.

In going down the ſtairs, he wiped his eyes, and compoſed his face, as well as he could; And as ſoon as he came into the Hall, knowing that all things were ready, and that none would tell him it was time to go, he ſolicited the Druid to defer the fatal Ceremony no longer. Adamas having nothing to alledge againſt it, was conſtrained to conſent; ſo as giving order how all things ſhould be obſerved, they all ſet forward.

All this great company was no ſooner out of the houſe, but Diana recollected thoſe ſpirits which ſhe loſt in parting from Silvander; and hearing no noiſe at all, ſhe preſently ſuſpected the reaſon; therefore riſing out of bed, and running to the window; Oh my Silvander (cryed ſhe out) whether art thou going? Oh my deareſt ſhepherd, whither art thou going? Is this then the fatal day which puts me out of all hopes ere to ſee thee again, or ever to enjoy thee? Oh ye moſt cruel deſtinies, who do raviſh him from me by the moſt unjuſt Law, that ever was eſtabliſhed, why ſince you give us but one life, do you ſuffer us to have ſo many different deaths? Poor Silvander, I am the only one for whom thou dyeſt, and the only one who does not accompany thee in this ſad journey: In ſaying ſo, ſhe raiſed her ſelf up in the window, the better to look upon her lover: But Aſtrea and Phillis fearing ſhe would throw her ſelf down, catched hold of her: Siſter (ſaid Aſtrea unto her) though this misfortune be without remedy, and your ſorrows infinite, yet I beſeech you allow ſomething to our affection, and for our ſakes ſtrive againſt this diſpair, which does every moment inſpire you with ſome fatal deſign againſt your ſelf: Ah Siſter (replied Diana) thoſe that are ſafe in the Port, may well look upon thoſe that are in danger of ſhipwrack, and wiſh them well; had you the ſame pain I have, you would reject all Counſels that ſhould adviſe you to live: And why do you condemn that in me, which you would put in practiſe your ſelf, [Page] were you in my room? No, no, companion, I muſt follow Silvander; no conſideration whatſoever can divert me from it; and if you will oblige me, go both of you, and be preſent at this Ceremony, where the moſt amiable Victime is to be ſacrifized, that ever was, for having no confidents but you, I cannot expect any others will give me ſo faithful a relation of his laſt actions.

Phillis, who conceived that Diana had ſome reaſon for this requeſt did think it beſt for Aſtrea to take this office upon her; and turning towards Diana, Siſter (ſaid ſhe) you muſt not imagine that both of us will accept of this commiſſion; I muſt of neceſſity ſtay with you, for I will not leave you to the mercy of your diſpair; You do oblige me (replied Diana faintly) by your cares to preſerve me; but the favour which Aſtrea will do me, will do no leſs if ſhe will take ſo much pains as to relate unto me me the circumſtances of Silvanders death: And therefore, dear ſiſter (ſaid ſhe and turned towards her) I beſeech you do not deny me this ſatisfaction, ſince it is the only one I expect in this extreamite: Aſtrea durſt not contradict the deſires of her companion; but promiſing to give her a faithful relation of all things, ſhe departed: and becauſe the great companion was not yet gone far from the houſe, ſhe quickly overtook them, and a little after found Celadon.

Diana all this while never ſtirred from the window; but keeping her eyes ſtill fixed upon Silvander, ſhe ſtill thought what means ſhe could invent not to be long after him. Phillis, who alſo beheld the order of this Ceremony, and having no particular object whereon to fix her looks, becauſe Lycidas in that multitude was not knowable, ſhe looked one while upon one thing, and another while upon another. She ſaw the Eubages and the Vaces going firſt, carrying Veſſels and other Inſtruments uſed in Sacrifices. After them, went Adamas holding Silvander in his hand; and ſome eight or ten paces after him, Amaſis betwixt Godamar and Roſilion: A little after, ſhe obſerved Bellinde, Roſanira, Galathea, Madonthe, and the reſt, whom the Cavaliers led by the Arm: And becauſe all the reſt followed in confuſion, ſhe could not find Lycidas, which made her think; that perhaps he would not be a ſpectator of this ſad Ceremony.

In this conſideration, neither Diana, nor ſhe, could reſtrain their tears: but when the diſtance of place, and thickneſs of Trees had inſenſibly taken from them the ſight of this great company; Then was Diana afflicted beyond all meaſure; ſhe did not only loſe her ſpeech, but was very near looſing her life: yet finding in this extremity ſome ſubject of conſolation: Come, come (ſaid ſhe upon a ſudden) away with theſe unprofitable complaints, Silvander has no need of my tears or ſighs; if I will give him any contentment in his ſecond life I muſt accompany him with my ſoul. In ſaying ſo, ſhe left the window; and by fortune caſting her eye upon a little Cabinet of Ebony, ſhe eſpyed a knife, which ſhe and Aſtrea had uſed ſome two days before, when they did eat in the Chamber; ſhe had a good deſire to ſeize upon it, but fearing that Phillis would ſee her, ſhe let it alone, and walking up and down the Chamber, ſhe watched till her companions eyes were off her.

Phillis no ſooner turned her ſelf another way, but Diana went to the Cabinet, and having ſeized upon theſe Arms, ſhe went to bed: Phillis, ſhe came unto her, and becauſe Diana did nothing but ſigh; Alas, dear Diana (ſaid ſhe) I ſee it is vain to flatter our ſelves with hopes of any remedy: It is by the will of the Gods that Silvander is raviſhed from us, and we have no better way then to beg as much patience as is neceſſary to endure this extream misfortune: For my part, replied Diana, I have already prepared my ſelf, and do proteſt, that ſince I have ſo good a remedy with me, I find my grief nothing ſo violent. Phillis, who knew not that ſhe had got a knife, did imagine that ſhe took her for this good remedy, and therefore ſhe anſwered her thus: Certainly, dear ſiſter, if your griefs may be eaſed by my reſentments, they ſhall quickly ceaſe their violence: For mine are ſo great, as I may ſafely ſay they do equal yours; yet believe it, I would do any thing that would conduce unto your conſolation. Dear Siſter (ſaid Diana) I know very well that you are very ſenſible of my ſufferings; [Page] and that your affection and compaſſion would make you do any thing to eaſe me.

With ſuch diſcourſe as this, theſe two Shepherdeſſes entertained each other in expectation of Astreas return; and in the mean time Silvander came to the place where death was to triumph over him. There was not one in all the company which did not change colour when they ſaw the pile of wood, he only looked upon it without the leaſt diſmay.

As ſoon as the Druide was got upon it, and the Eubages and their veſſels▪ and and knife, and all in readineſſe, he himſelf got up alſo; and kneeling down, after he had caſt his eyes upon the cloud which covered the Fountain of Verity. King of ſouls (ſaid he with moſt admirable conſtancy) Puiſſant Deity who never had in heaven any thing ſo fair as the eyes of Diana: O great God of Love; ſince I muſt die to ſatisfie for the ſin which my preſumption hath committed in adoring her: Receive▪ ſweet Tyrant, this teſtimony of my obedience, and what puniſhment ſoever my Crime had merited; yet let thy wrath be appeaſed by my death. Upon this he roſe up, and after he had put off his dublet, he made a ſign to the Druide that he was ready to die: his great reſolution did aſtoniſh all the ſpectatours, and even the leaſt ſenſible did ſhed tears at the misfortune of this Shepherd; but above all, Aſtrea and Celadon appeared the moſt ſadly afflicted: for as the one lamented the Fate of Silvander, ſo the other grieved no leſſe for the misfortune of Diana. Adamas, for his part, he doubted whether he had life enough to our-live this Sacrifice: yet conſidering, that it was the will of the gods, he began to put his hand to the work.

The ſcaffold which he had cauſed to be erected, was about ſome two yards in height, and that it might hold the more wood, it was ſix yards in length, and as much in bredth: As ſoon as all things were in readineſſe, the Druide took two great Tapers which he lighed at the fire, which one of the Bubages carried in a ſilver chafingdiſh, and giving them unto two other Hubages; he commanded them to go nine times about the ſcaffold. After this, but with a trembling hand, he took the knife, and addreſſing himſelf to the Shepherd, he asked him whether he had conſtancy enough to die, without his eyes being blinded; and Silvander proteſting, with abundance of alacrity, that the minute of his death, was the ſweet oft minute of all his life, he opened his breſt to receive the blow: but Adamas being in ſome ſort offended at his forwardneſſe: Silvander (ſaid he unto him in a low voice) the haſte which you make to die, is indeed an argument of your courage; but it may alſo be an argument of your diſpair: The gods do not like precipitate actions, and therefore I conjure you to wait with a little more patience, for the blow which you are to receive. We do uſe in our Sacrifices to ſprinkle the ſcaffold with ſome drops of blood which we take from the Victime which is to be ſacrificed: and therefore, not to go againſt this order, I will ſprinkle the wood with yours, upon which you are to die. Silvander made no anſwer unto the words of Adamas; but after he had ſhewed him that he was ready to obey whatſoever he commanded, the Druide took hold upon his arm a little above the hand, and the Shepherd himſelf turned up the ſlieve of his ſhirt, left is ſhould be any hindrance unto his deſign: an Eubage preſently brought a baſin to receive the blood, and Adamas lifted up his hand to make the wound: But he no ſooner caſt his eye upon the place which he was to cut, but a ſtrange aſtoniſhment ſeized upon him: At firſt, he could not ſo much as ſtir, or take his eyes off the arm of Silvander; afterwards, perceiving himſelf to weaken upon a ſudden, he let fall the knife, and taking the Shepherd about the neck, O Silvander (cryed he out) O Paris, my ſon Paris: In ſaying ſo, his ſtrength quite failed him, and Silvander himſelf having not ſo much as to hold him up, they fell both together upon the ſcaffold.

At the ſight of this accident, thoſe that ſtood at a little diſtance gave a great cry, imagining that Silvander had received his Fatal blow; yet ſeeing Adamas to fall firſt, they thought that the Sacrificer was himſelf become the Victime: At that inſtant the two Tapers did miraculouſly extinguiſh of themſelves, to the amazement of the Bubages; and Paris, raviſhed at this ſpectacle, and that he [Page] ſhould be named, went preſently up the ſcaffold. He was no ſooner there, but the Druide aſſumed his ſpirits and ſtrength, and falling down upon his knees: Moſt pitiful and compaſſionate gods (cryed he out) who never ſuffers us to ſpeak any untruth, I give you moſt hearty thanks for the great favour you have done me: Pardon me, if in deſpairing of your goodneſs, I did murmure againſt the greatneſſe of your infinite benignity: I muſt confeſſe that I have ſinned as a mortal man, but I will make a vow to ſerve you as my Soveraign Tautates, and promiſe to offer upon your Altars, continual Victimes: After this, he roſe up; and ſeeing the whole Aſſembly was no leſſe aſtoniſhed then he, he took Paris in one hand, and holding Silvander in the other, he raiſed his voice to as loud a ſtrain as he could, and began to ſpeak in this manner.

I muſt make here a Publick confeſſion of a private action, and in the ſight of all Forreſt declare that, which until now was never known unto any but the gods and my ſelf. I do proteſt, that this is Paris (ſaid he and ſhewed Silvander) this who has born that (ſaid he and ſhewed Paris) is not my ſon, but only by adoption, and as affection, or rather piety moved me to give him that name and title. But becauſe ſuch a change is not ordinary, I am inſpired to give you my reaſons, to the end all men may learn never to deſpair in the goodneſs and favours of heaven. Know then, that when the valour of Aetius added glory to the Grandure of the Romane Empire, and when the Prudence of this great Captain had gotten to himſelf the government of Gaul, this countrey which had enjoyed a ſecure peace for many ages before, did now find that it was not without enemies; and it being impoſſible but my Intereſt muſt needs be involved in a misfortune which was then common unto all theſe Provinces, I quickly found how barbarous the inſolency of thoſe are, who look after profit more then glory in their triumphs, for they delight in nothing but deſtruction, and in plundering all that preſents it ſelf unto their infatiable fury. Their rage did not only reach ſo far as to raviſh all that was precious in my houſe, but alſo they raviſhed away my ſon, who was the only ſtay of all my hopes. I did what I could to hinder them, I told them, he could not do them any ſervice, ſince he was but five years of age: I beſeeched them to have ſome pity upon his innocency and my affliction; I uſed all the expreſſions that either ſweetneſs or deſpair could inſpire: But neither compaſſion at my tears, nor reſpect which was due unto my quality, nor the horrour of their crime, were able to move them, but rather made them more furious; and do what I could, they would needs commit two faults: the one, in taking away my ſon, and the other in leaving me alive. After this misfortune, I remained without child, and without conſolation; my cares became my food, and my tears my drink, and but for the charge which I had taken upon me to exerciſe, certainly I had followed theſe raviſhers of my ſon, or elſe confined my ſelf unto ſome horrid ſolitude: But ſince I could not leave the duty of a Druide I was conſtrained to ſtay in the ſame place where every object did preſent my loſs before my eyes.

A few dayes after, I went to take the air along the banks of Lignon; there I muſed upon my loſs, and how deplorable it was, and when I was in the depth of my melancholy thoughts, I heard the voice of a child crying very near me: preſently being ſtruck with a ſecret joy, I went that way, and was not long before I found him: he was ſet upon the very brink of the bank, and ſo near, that his tears dropped into the water: for all his ſorrows, he ſeemed very fair, and I muſt confeſſe, that imagining his deſtiny to be like unto that of Paris, I conceived a particular affection to him, and took him along with me: I did what I could to know who were his Parents, but being, as I conceive, younger then Paris, he could not give me any ſatisfaction. I had no ſooner brought him home, but being proud of this new prey, I began to find ſome comfort in my affliction, and to thank the gods, that after the loſs of my ſon they had ſent me another, unto whom I might in reaſon give that title, ſince I was no leſs then a Father unto him in preſerving his life.

I commanded therefore all thoſe who were witneſſes of my diſaſter not to ſpeak of it unto any; and charging them to call this Chide by the others [Page] name, they did all ſo well obey mee, that none know of my misfortune: and there was not any in all Forreſts, who did not think this ſuppoſed Paris to be the ſame which the Gods had given mee for a Succeſſor. Yet ſince this day the Gods have diſcovered the truth, and permitted mee to finde in Silvanders arme the only mark by which I could know him, it is moſt juſt, that I do declare him to be the true Paris: in ſaying ſo; hee embraced Silvander again with teares in his eyes; afterwards turning up the ſleeve of his ſhirt, hee ſhewed unto all thoſe that were near the ſcaffold the branch of Misſleto, which hee had imprinted upon his arme, and which Aſtrea confeſſed ſhee had once ſeen, when being in a ſwound, Phillis ſtole from him a bracelet which hee wore: After this Adamas beginning to ſpeak: But (ſaid hee) though this ſuppoſed Paris cannot now be called my Son, yet I doe proteſt I will ſtill love him as well as if hee hee were; and marrying him unto Leonide, I will give him ſuch a ſhare in my eſtate as ſhall keep him from beating any envy unto the Fortune of the other. And to the end it may not be thought, that becauſe hee was found by the water ſide, lying upon the graſſe and abandoned of all the world, that therefore his birth was infamous; I would have you to know, that I found about him ſuch infallible ſignes of his being deſcended from ſome illuſtrious Family, as I muſt needs doubt, whether in taking him to be mine I did not do an injury unto the glory hee might have had from his own original. Thoſe that left him in that condition, doubtleſſe had not time to ſtrip him of his cloaths, or perhaps they were not ſo barbarous as to do it: For I found him in a little purple gown, embroydered over with fine gold, and interwooven with flowers of ſilk, ſo exquiſitely wrought and ſhadowed, as they did exactly imitate the natural. At night when I cauſed him to be got to bed, I ſaw that hee wore at his breaſt a little Agathe hanging in a chain of gold; in which was engraved a Lion, and cloſe by him a Lions Whelp which was fighting for his life againſt a Tiger as big as himſelf, and about him were written in great Characters theſe words, Comme ne de ce Lion: and this made mee think this childe had a very generous father, who expecting actions from his Son worthy of his birth, would ſignifie thereby, the great hopes that hee had in his future valour: Theſe are the marks that I found about this childe, which I have ſafely kept; and I wiſh they may conduce as much unto his contentment, as thoſe markes of my Son have ſerved to convince mee that hee is my own. Upon this Adamas was ſilent; and leaving all the by ſtanders in a ſtrange aſtoniſhment, Aſtrea above all the reſt, did not know how to interpret what ſhee had ſeen: ſometimes ſhee imagined that it was only a dream, and ſometimes accuſed her ſelf for not believing her own eyes; but her wonder was greater, when ſhee ſaw Bellinde advancing in great haſte, and being helped up to the ſcaffold, ſhee took him about the neck who had ever been taken for Paris: Deare Ergaſtes (ſaid ſhee) is it thou my Son, whom Adamas has ſo carefully brought up? Ergaſtes, my Son Ergaſtes, let mee embrace and kiſſe thee my dear Son Ergaſtes. Upon this her voice failed her, but not her ſtrength; for ſhee held him ſo cloſe and hard, as hee was not able to fall downe upon his knees. As ſoon as ſhee could ſpeak, it was only to tell the Druid, that all the marks which hee had found upon that childe were upon Ergaſtes, and that the Figures and Motto which were upon the Agathe, were only to ſignifie that it was Celion.

Adamas received abundant conſolation from the Joyes of Bellinde; and whilſt Ergaſtes (for I will hereafter call them by their names) was ſometimes thanking the Gods, and ſometimes Adamas, for the favours which they had done him, in reſtoring him unto his mother; the true Paris did nothing but think upon the change which was hapned in his Fortune. In that inſtant, all the Oracles that had be [...]n given, did come into his memory; and finding them to be all true in this laſt accident, hee knew very well, that hee never had any right underſtanding of them: and certainly it was impoſſible hee could ever dive into ths ſecret of this myſtery: For not knowing that hee was Paris, it was not poſſible hee could conceive, that all thoſe misfortunes wherewith Silvander was menaced, were to turn unto his own happineſſe and advantage.

[Page]Hee was ſtill in theſe thoughts, when hee heard Adamas begin to ſpeak with a countenance full of ſadneſſe: yet notwithſtanding (ſaid hee) the Gods have ordained that this Joy ſhall not continue long; and the finding of Paris, is but to make my loſſe the more intolerable, for I am ready to execute their commands: And therefore Oh Tautates, Great God of Love (ſaid hee, falling down upon his knees, and lifting up his eyes to heaven) Infinite Deity, who doſt diſpoſe of all our deſtinies according to thy pleaſure, pronounce (I beſeech thee) either to my happineſſe or confuſion the laſt doom of thy divine Will; whether my Son, being already dead as a Shepherd and as Silvander, ſhall alſo die as hee is Paris: For if it be thy divine will to have it ſo, though his death will moſt certainly be the cauſe of mine, yet I do vow inviolably, that I will be no obſtacle unto it.

At this Prayer, all the Company changed countenance; and the fear leaſt ſome ſad accident ſhould happen which might diſturb the happineſſe of new Paris, cauſed every one to long and deſire to know what would become of it. But they were not long in this perplexity; for the Druid had no ſooner done ſpeaking, but the Cloud which covered the Fountain did open according to its cuſtome, and by little and little appeared out of the water a Pillar of white Marble; upon which the God of Love appeared, not now armed with Thunder and Lightning, but with ſuch armes as hee uſes when hee playes with the Craces. Hee had in one hand two Crownes of Mirtle, which hee did throw ſo dexterouſly, that the one fell upon the head of Celadon, and the other upon the head of Silvander: Afterwards, hee vaniſhing, the Cloud cloſed again; but i [...] did riſe again in ſeveral little Clouds, in which were abundance of little Cupids which alſo threw Crownes upon the Aſſembly, and joyining their voices unto the harmony of Inſtruments, they ſang theſe words:

Ceaſe all your cares; the Gods are pleas'd

That you ſhould of them all be eas'd:

Let all your Griefs be turn'd to Joy,

Let nothing your delights annoy.

Let Lignon glide, and only move

In ſweets of Peace and charmes of Love.

This conſent of Cupids having ended this Anthem, the Clouds diſperſed, and all the little Cupids vaniſhed: but Aſtrea was no witneſſe of it; for ſhee no ſooner heard that Silvander proved to be Paris, but ſhee ſtole out of the company to carry the news unto her companions.

Phillis in the mean time went from time to time to look for her at the window; and ſeeing Aſtrea return, ſhee went unto Diana's bed ſide, but with a face ſo pale and dejected, as if ſhee had heard of the death of Lycidas and not of Silvanders. Diana, who obſerved this alteration, did ask her the cauſe; and Phillis anſwered with a deep ſigh, that ſhee had ſeen Aſtrea returning, and that her fears to hear ill newes, had ſo chilled her heart as made her change colour. Then Diana all in confuſion: Oh God (cryed ſhee out) I know Silvander is dead; but let heaven and earth do what they can, they ſhall not hinder mee from following him.

In ſaying ſo, ſhee would have laid her hand upon the knife which ſhee had hid; but in her tranſport not remembring in what place ſhee had laid it, ſhee raiſed her ſelf half out of bed, and looking about on all ſides: What, (ſaid ſhee in a great ſurpriſe) have the Gods taken from mee the remedy which I had prepared againſt my diſpair? Upon this, ſhe found the knife, which, unknown to her, lay cloſe by: and ſettling her ſelf again in her bed, No, no, (ſaid ſhee, and continued) they are more pitifull then to leave the miſerable no refuge. Phillis, who obſerved all her actions to the leaſt circumſtance, did wonder what it [Page] was ſhe did, and partly ſuſpecting the truth, did ſet her ſelf to watch her from doing any harm unto her ſelf.

In the mean time, Aſtrea was come, and as ſoon as ſhe entred in at the door courage Siſter (ſaid ſhe) Silvander is dead. Diana preſently caſt her eye upon her, and ſeeing her all in a water, did think it to be tears and not ſweat that had bedewed her face: ſo as not queſtioning the misfortune which ſhe feared: Ah Siſter (anſwered ſhe) it is in vain to bid me courage, for I have as much as will help me to die and to bid you adieu: in ſaying ſo, ſhe ſeized upon the knife, and lifting her arm out of bed, ſhe offered to thruſt it into her breſt: But Phillis keeping alwayes an eye upon her, did preſently catch hold of her: Siſter (ſaid ſhe) what do you mean to do? Nay Siſter▪ (ſaid Diana all in a fury) what do you mean to do? Oh you enemy of my contentment, why do you oppoſe my reſolution ſince it is ſo juſt? In ſaying ſo ſhe ſtrove, and endeavoured to get her hand at liberty, and Aſtrea who was extreamly afraid at the ſight of the knif, ſhe repented that ſhe had given her ſuch a falſe alarm; But Siſter (ſaid ſhe) Paris is ſtill alive: what care I (replied Diana) whether Paris he alive or no, ſince Silvander is dead: it does concern you ſo much (replied Aſtrea) that you will not refuſe him for your husband; I had rather marry a Toade, anſwered Diana and interrupted: and yet ſaid Aſtrea, Silvander dyed only that it might he ſo: and I will die (anſwered Diana) that it may not be ſo. But (ſaid Aſtrea) if Paris and Silvander be both one, and he whom you thought to be Paris, do prove to be Ergaſtes the Brother of Diana, what will you ſay then? Ah Siſter (replied Diana) your ſubtilty is out of ſeaſon, and I will never trouble my ſelf to anſwer it, becauſe I know it to be a thing impoſſible: but I muſt, and I will die, becauſe I ought to do ſo, and becauſe I have promiſed it. Upon this she began to ſtrive again, and perhaps had been too hard for Phillis, if Aſtrea had not helped, and took the knife from her: afterwards with expreſſion of affection, and joy, Siſter (ſaid ſhe) I do proteſt, Paris is not Paris, but Ergaſtes: and he whom you lament for as Silvander who was to die, is now the very ſame Paris whom the gods have deſtinied for the husband of Diana. If you do make any doubt of my words, and that the wonder of the accident does require a larger diſcourſe, I will tell you every circumſtance, upon a promiſe that you will hear me patiently. Aſtrea did ſpeak this in ſuch a manner as did a little ſetle the mind of Diana, and made her believe there was ſome truth in what ſhe ſaid: and though this novelty did find but little place for belief, yet ſhe thought it was not altogether impoſſible; Having therefore promiſed Aſtrea to hear her, that ſhepherdeſs related word for word, all that ſhe had heard, and ſeen in the ſame order as they fell out: ſometimes ſhe put Diana into fears, and ſometimes revived her, according as ſhe took away or gave her any hopes; At laſt, when ſhe had told all, and had filled the mind of Diana with more amaſement then before; Siſter (ſaid Phillis) it is not enough to give credit unto Aſtrea, but me thinks you ſhould deſire to be a witneſs of it your ſelf, I conceive it beſt therefore to dreſs your ſelf as ſoon as you can, for I believe you will hear of Bellinde very ſhortly; In ſaying ſo ſhe fetched her clothes; and Diana took them with ſo much joy that ſhe knew not what ſhe did: and indeed, if Aſtrea had not helped her, it would have been long before ſhe had dreſſed her ſelf. At laſt, when ſhe was ready to go out, ſhe went betwixt Aſtrea and Phillis, and they had not gone a hundred paces from the houſe, but they met Lycidas, whom Adamas had ſent, to advertiſe Diana of all paſſages. At firſt, Phillis was a little ſurpriſed at the ſight of him, for ſhe could not tell whether or no he went to the ſacrifice of Silvander; But when they were within hearing of each other, ſhe called him ſluggard, and accuſed him for having leſs care, and affection then Aſtrea had to bring them the news of the life of Paris, and the finding out of Ergaſtes. The ſhepherd excuſed himſelf as well as he could, and conſidering that he had come as faſt as he could, he wondered that Aſtrea ſhould be before him. Yet hearing that ſhe did not ſtay ſo long as to ſee the diſenchantment of the fountain, he made a particular relation unto them of thoſe remarkable paſſages.

The haſte which Diana made to ſee theſe alterations in the perſons of Paris and [Page] Ergaſtes, was ſuch, as never thinking how weary Aſtrea was with walking before, as they came quickly to the place where all the Company was aſſembled, and where every one was raviſhed with the wonders they had ſeen. As ſoon as they were come near, the croud made away for them, untill they came to Adamas and Bellinde who were already come down from the ſcaffold: for deſiring no leſs a Theater then the whole plain of Forreſts for the repreſentation of this tragi-Comedy they went unto Amaſis, who deſired that the knot of this buſineſs ſhould he diſſolved in her preſence.

Adamas, held Ergaſtes, by the hand; and Bellinde, Paris: ſo as Diana was no ſooner come unto them, but the Druide embraced her, and being hardly able to with hold his tears for the extream joy which he reſented; Daughter (ſaid he unto her) heretofore I deſired to give you this Son as a lover and as a husband: but the gods would not let my ignorance commit ſuch a crime, and have this day ordained that I ſhall preſent him unto you as a Brother; In ſaying ſo he preſented Ergaſtes unto her, and afterwards continuing, take him (ſaid he) as the beſt preſent I can offer unto you, and let him find more favour as your kindred, then he could as your ſervant. Diana did not hear theſe laſt words; for as ſoon as ſhe had liberty to ſalute Ergaſtes, ſhe was inſpired with ſo much conſanguinious affection, as ſhe embraced him a long time, and ſpoke not a word. Ergaſtes was no leſs amaſed and mute, ſo as not being able to ſpeak, their tongus did leaſt of all contribute unto the expreſſion of their reſentments, and perhaps they had forgotten themſelves in the tranſport into which this new acquaintance had put them, if Bellinde had not interrupted their carreſſes, and ſaid unto the ſhepherdeſs: Diana, to pleaſe both the Oracles and your affection at once, I do here give you Paris not as he is Silvander, whoſe ruine the gods do ſtill deſire, but as the legitimate Son of the grand Druide unto whom the gods do promiſe happineſs beyond all our deſires, as it has already our hopes. Upon this Silvander, or rather Paris, advanced: and caſting himſelf at the feet of Diana, ſecond, oh faireſt Miſtreſſe (ſaid he unto her) the favour which Bellinde hath done me: and ſince I want nothing to make me compleatly happy, but your conſent, give it deareſt Diana to accompliſh my good fortune; Yes Paris (anſwered ſhe) I will give it, ſince you deſerve it, and ſhe who has the ſole power of me commands it. Then ſhe embraced, and afterwards caſt her ſelf down at the feet of Bellinde, from whom she obtained a pardon for her former diſobedience. This commune joy, appeared in the countenances and eyes of all; But Aſtrea, Diana and Phillis, being thoſe that were moſt intereſted, it is eaſie to imagine that their joyes were beyond all compariſon or expreſſion: and indeed they appeared fairer then before; And that Diana had loſt much of her collour in her precedent afflictions, yet being conſtrained to make a confeſſion of her love in publique, even ſhame did bring ſuch blushes into her checks, as reſtored unto her the fresh luſter of her beauty.

On the other ſide Celadons ſatisfaction was beyond all parralell that the good fortune both of Paris, and Ergaſtes did ſute ſo well with his deſires; And the right Paris, ſometimes looking upon the ſcaffold, and then upon Diana, he was ſo ravished to ſee himſelf out of that danger wherein he thought to have perished as he could not enough be thankfull for his good fortune. Bellinde did not know in which she had moſt cauſe of joy, whether in finding him whom she thought for ever loſt, or in finding a means to content both the gods and Diana. Adamas ſeeing himſelf already in Poſſeſſion of thoſe favours which the Oracle promiſed unto him, after he had reſtored Celadon unto his dear Aſtrea, he thought himſelf fully recompenſed for all the cares, and paynes he had taken to preſerve them. Thus had every one particular conſiderations of the preſent happineſs, when the Druide knowing that ſomething elſe was to be done, he went unto Amaſis, and beſeeched her to command what was her pleaſure to be done: and the Nymph thought fit, that after ſo many favours which the gods had ſhewed them), they could do no leſs, then return moſt humble thanks: and in order thereunto, she commanded that ſome Bulls ſhould be brought, and ſacrificed in lieu of Silvander. Which the Victimaries obeying, Adamas did ſacrifice them withall uſuall ceremonies: [Page] And when hee viewed the intralls, hee found them all ſo pure and found, as hee was very certain that the Gods were well pleaſed.

This myſtery being ended, the Druid did put off the habit of grand Sacrificer; and now no ſignes of any enchantment remaining about the Fountain, almoſt all thoſe that were about the Fountain were inſpired with a great deſire of looking into it: but above all Alcidon was the moſt impatient; for the Oracle had promiſed that hee ſhould there finde an end of his paines. Hee addreſſed himſelf therefore unto Adamas, and ſaid thus unto him: You do know, reverend Father, by the relation which I have formerly made unto you of my Fortunes, that the beginning of my happineſſe depends only upon your permitting mee to look into the Fountain of Loves veritie: And now ſince there is no obſtacle to hinder mee but that, I do moſt humbly beſeech you to let mee have recourſe unto that remedy which only can give mee full contentment: Generous Alcidon (anſwered the Druid) you ask mee a thing which depends only upon your ſelf: yet if you will take my advice, let mee tell you, that I do think the Inchantment to be quite diſſolved, and do conceive it fit, that (ſince the Female Lover which was to die, was Alexis, and the Hee Lover Silvander; for death being only a deprivation of being, they are both dead, ſince neither Alexis nor Silvander are in being, but the one become Celadon, and the other Paris my Son) ſome order be obſerved in it: For it is to be feared, that if every one ſhould follow his own fancy, ſome confuſion would ariſe amongſt this great multitude, I do conceive it fit therefore, that wee ſhould obſerve ſome order, in which every one in their turnes may finde his particular Contentment.

And becauſe wee ſee that the God of Love is no leſſe pleaſed to have his power admired in the homely Cottages of our Shepherds, as well as in great Palaces: Nay, to break the force of an inchantment hee caſts his eye only upon them, as taking moſt delight in their innocency; mee thinks it fit that they, by whoſe meanes this Inchantment is diſſolved, ſhould have the firſt Eſſay: Alcidon thought this to be but reaſon; and the Druid having asked the advice of the Great Nymph, ſhee gave him leave to do as hee pleaſed.

Adamas then went unto Celadon, and got his conſent to be the firſt that ſhould look into the Fountain: at the firſt, Aſtrea did oppoſe it, imagining that it was in ſome ſort, to doubt of her affection. But the Druid telling her it did much conduce unto her Glory, that Poſterity ſhould know this Inchantment ended only for the tranquillity of this Shepherd, ſhee was obedient to whatſoever hee pleaſed. So Adamas took Celadon by the hand, and leading him unto the ſide of the Fountain, both kneeled down: And the Druid having made a prayer unto the God of Love, Celadon ſtooped down; and hee had no ſooner caſt his eye upon the water, but hee ſaw his Miſtreſſe, as fair as imagination was able to repreſent her: This ſight did raviſh him the more, becauſe hee ſaw himſelf alone with her, and becauſe it was a full aſſurance of her inviolable Fidelity. Preſently after, Aſtrea was conducted thither by Amaſis, who kneeling down as Adamas did before, ſhee made a ſigne unto the Shepherdeſſe to ſtoop down, which Aſtrea obeying, the Image of Celadon immediately appeared, accompanied with all the Graces that Nature could infuſe into his face: After this, ſhee yielded place unto Diana and Phillis, who never forſook her in this myſtery of Love, ſince their affections had linked them together: So theſe three fair Shepherdeſſes, one after another, did look into the liquid Chryſtal, which was then unto them the Fountain of oblivion: For at that very inſtant they loſt the memory of all the miſeries they had endured: And the ſight of Celadon, Paris, and Lycidas, whoſe images they ſaw, was a perfect remedy againſt all their paſt paines: Next after this, Roſilion, at the deſire of Amaſis, approached this miraculous water: and though hee had ſtronger arguments of Roſaniras Love, then ever to doubt of it, yet hee looked in, becauſe hee would be an eye-witneſſe of this miracle: So as hee ſaw himſelf next his Miſtreſſe, and not being able to conceive that Roſanira ſhould be ſo near him, hee turned about to ſee whether ſhee ſtood behinde him; but not ſeeing her there, hee [Page] looked into the water again, and remained in that contemplation, until Roſanira came and took him off, that ſhe might ſee the ſame which he had done. Dorinde was the next that advanced in a trembling pace, to clear her ſuſpitions of Sigiſmonds fidelity; and as ſoon as ever ſhe looked into the Fountain, ſhe was fully ſatisfied concerning the love of that Prince: ſo as ſhe accuſed her ſelf of incredulity, and made a vow never to doubt again of his affection. Alcidon in the mean while, beſeeched Daphnide not to deny him that remedy which the Oracle had promiſed unto them: To which ſhe conſenting, they went one after another to conſult with the water; which preſenting them with what they deſired, they were infinitly well ſatisfied with their good Fortune.

Damon, becauſe he would not be ſingular, he went as the reſt did, and beſeeched Madonthe to do the like; but becauſe they were already but one and the ſame, this ſight did hardly add any contentment unto them. They had no ſooner left the Fountain free, but every one did caſt their eyes upon Lindamor, whom, his reſpects unto Amaſis did keep from this myſterious water, and becauſe the great Nymph knew his mind, ſhe made a ſign unto him to go thither, whom he immediatly obeyed; but after he had received from this ſight all the ſatisfaction he could ever hope for, he perceived his joyes to leſſen, when his fears of a denial did forbid him to ask what the Fountain had promiſed unto him: yet remembring the diſcourſe which Godomar and he had together as they went to Lions, he took a little heart; and therefore as ſoon as Amaſis deſired to know what ſucceſs he had, he told her clearly, that the water made him believe he had ſome ſhare in Galatheas favour. Brave Lindamor (anſwered Amaſis) you do deſerve her better then any man in the world, and I would have you to enjoy her: Then cauſing Galathea to come near, and preſenting her unto the Cavalier, here Lindamor (ſaid ſhe) I do give her unto you; and if this recompence do not equal your ſervices, yet take it in good part, and conſider that I do give you all that I can. Upon this, the Cavalier kneeled down, and even raviſhed with joy, did kiſs her hand by way of thanks.

Delphires, Thomantes, Doriſea, Filiutes, and the reſt, who had all left their habitations to come unto this Sacrifice of Silvander, they had all the priviledge of this water, and found ſuch Dooms as ended all their differences, far better then the ſentence which Diana had pronounced a little before: for in deſpite of the pretentions and purſuit of his Rival, Thomantes continued poſſeſſour of Delphire.

Ligdamon, Silvia, and after them many Shepherds and Shepherdeſſes went to ſee their Deſtinies in this water; and amongſt the reſt, Dori [...] was inſpired to look in: Doubtleſs the only thing that moved her unto it, was her hopes to ſee the Ghoſt of Palemon; but the god of Love, who is an enemy unto the dead, was revenged of her, and preſented Adraſtes unto her in lieu of Palemon, and this Shepherdeſs was ſo ſurprized at it, that though ſhe did not much love him, yet not to diſobey the ordinances of this god, ſhe received him into the place which Palemon had raviſhed from him. Thus after every one had looked into the water, Hylas was the ſingular perſon that approached not: which moved Amaſis to ask the reaſon, to whom the Shepherd returned this anſwer. I know, Madam, you are not to be told; and ſince this Fountain bears the name of the truth of Love, I will not oblige her to commit a fault for my ſake. That, replied Amaſis, is only to be underſtood of actions that are evil; but to love one is a thing ſo laudable and honeſt, as you need not fear what the Fountain can tell you concerning that ſubject. Madam (replied the inconſtant) I am not very inquiſitive to know whether I did well or ill, in loving as I have done: I have followed the grain of my own humour, and do believe it is not to be condemned, ſince it has exactly imitated Nature, which will periſh and die rather then be confined alwayes to one thing. But to tell you truly, that which has much induced me to affect change, is the conſideration which I have had of the lives of thoſe Lovers, who like unto Celadon and Silvander, have endeavoured to get the ſimple ſirnames of faithful and conſtant: for I have obſerved them alwayes ſo miſerable, as I thought that Love did puniſh them for their fidelity and conſtancy, as for crimes which I ought [Page] to ſhun. And yet ſaid Amaſis, you ſee that on the contrary, the god of Love rather loves them, and has brought them to a higher pitch of felicity, then ever they could expect or deſire. At this, Hylas was a little gravelled; but at the laſt, he ſhook his head, I ſwear, Madam (ſaid he) they deſerve all the felicity they find; and it may be ſaid, that it was rather ſold then given them, for they have paid full dear for it! But for all that, I would look into this Fountain where Love diſcovers ſo many truths, if I had not a ſtronger reaſon which reſtrains me, and which makes me think it to be impoſſible: Upon this, Amaſis asking what it was, it is Madam (anſwered he) becauſe this Fountain is ſo little, that if I ſhould look into it, it is impoſſible I ſhould ſee half of thoſe faces which I have loved: Three or four faces will fill it; and how is it then poſſible, that Dorinde, Carlis, Stilliana, Palanice, Aymea, Doris, Florice, Phillis, Cryſeide, Stella, and as many more, ſhould find any room there? Amaſis and all the company, could not chuſe but laugh at the conceit of Hylas; but Adamas, telling him, that he ſhould ſee only the perſon whom he then loved, it did ſo perſwade, with him, that he reſolved to look into the Fountain; and ſo accordingly he ran thither immediatly, and without any kneeling, looked in: at which the god of Love was not offended, but ſhewed Stella unto him whom he then loved, without any other perſons but Hylas and ſhe, which did ſo raviſh him, as knowing thereby the will of that Shepherdeſs, he vowed inviolably to fix himſelf there.

Theſe Myſteries being ended, Amaſis deſiring to memorize them unto poſterity, did command all this great company to follow her unto Marcelles, where ſhe would celebrate a feaſt for eight dayes together, in memory of ſo many remarkable ſucceſſes. None durſt diſobey this command; and therefore, when ſhe ſet forward, every one prepared themſelves to follow. They had not gone above two hundred paces, but they ſaw upon their left hand a Shepherd and a Shepherdeſſe coming together, who were preſently known to be Laonice and Tircis: They held each other by the hand, at which Hylas was ſo raviſhed, that he ran to meet them; and wondering at the change which he ſaw in the humour to Tircis, he was extreamly glad that he had found a companion in his infidelity. Laonice in the mean while, no ſooner ſaw Diana and Paris, whom he ſtill took to be Silvander; but haſting to them, ſhe asked pardon for the Treaſon which ſhe had practiſed againſt them, which ſhe quickly obtained: for they did forgive her, and the more willingly, becauſe they were now above all fears of any alteration in their Fortunes. Tircis enquired of Hylas, from whence all that great company came, and being told in few words, he would needs go and ſee his Deſtiny as the reſt had; but Laonice would not let him, and therefore they followed the reſt unto Marcelles: where, during the eight dayes which Amaſis had devoted unto feaſting and pleaſures, all theſe Lovers did happily conſummate their marriages, except Dorinde, whom Godomar carryed unto Lions, after he had heard that Gondebaut had at laſt conſented unto a marriage betwixt Sigiſmond and her. Roſilion and Roſanira returned unto the Queen Argires: Daphnide and Alcidon went unto their houſes; and all the Shepherds and Shepherdeſſes returned home, and talked of nothing but the happineſs of Celadon, and the felicity of Aſtrea.

The end of Aſtrea.

Information about this book

Title statement

Astrea. Part 3. a romance / written in French by Messire Honoré D'Urfe ; and translated by a person of quality.Astrée. English

Urfé, Honoré d', 1567-1625.

Edition statement

1658

Publication

Publisher

Text Creation Partnership,

Place of publication

Ann Arbor, MI ; Oxford (UK) :

Date

2006-06 (EEBO-TCP Phase 1).

ID [DLPS]

A71190

ID [STC]

Wing U132_pt3

ID [STC]

ESTC R226429

ID [EEBO-CITATION]

12072949

ID [OCLC]

ocm 12072949

ID [VID]

53528

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Early English books online.

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(EEBO-TCP ; phase 1, no. A71190)

Transcribed from: (Early English Books Online ; image set 53528)

Images scanned from microfilm: (Early English books, 1641-1700 ; 584:7 and 584:8 or 584:9)

Source

— Astrea. Part 3. a romance / written in French by Messire Honoré D'Urfe ; and translated by a person of quality., Astrée. English, Urfé, Honoré d', 1567-1625., Davies, John, 1625-1693..

Extent

3 v. ([4], 427; [4], 208, 215; [4], 460 p.)

Printed by W.W. for H. Moseley, T. Dring, and H. Herringman ...,. London :: 1657-58.. (Translation of Astrée.) (Volume 3 has special t.p. The third and last volume of Astrea a romance ... London: Printed for Hum. Mosely, Tho. Dring and H. Herringman, 1658.) (To the reader signed: J.D. [i.e. John Davies] Cf. BM.) (Reproduction of original in the University of Illinois (Urbana-Champaign Campus). Library.)

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