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<DATE>2013-09-30</DATE>
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<NAME>Alexis Jakobson</NAME>
<RESP>MURP</RESP>
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<TEXT LANG="eng">
<FRONT>
<DIV1 TYPE="title page">
<PB REF="1">
<PB REF="1" MS="y">
<P><HI>Several LETTERS; Containing the AMOURS OF</HI>
<LIST>
<ITEM>1. <HI>The</HI> &V;nfortunate Dutche&s;s; <HI>Or, The</HI> Lucky Game&s;ter.</ITEM>
<ITEM>2. Love after Enjoyment; <HI>Or,</HI> Fa|tal Con&s;tancy.</ITEM>
<ITEM>3. <HI>The</HI> unhappy Mi&s;take; <HI>Or, The</HI> Fate of cro&s;s'd Loves.</ITEM>
</LIST></P>
<P><HI>Written by Mr.</HI> D. Cr&mdash;rd, <HI>Gent.</HI></P>
<Q>Quod &s;i tantus amor menti, &s;i tanta Cupido e&s;t, Accipe, quae peragenda prius, latet arbore opaca. <BIBL><HI>Virg. Aenei. Lib.</HI> 6.</BIBL></Q>
<P>LONDON, <HI>Printed for</HI> Job Au&s;tin <HI>in</HI> Fleet-Street, <HI>and &s;old by the Book&s;ellers of</HI> London <HI>and</HI> We&s;tmin&s;ter, 1700.</P>
</DIV1>
<DIV1 TYPE="preface">
<PB REF="2" MS="y">
<PB REF="2">
<HEAD>THE PREFACE.</HEAD>
<P>NOvels of late have been &s;o ill writ, and Con&s;e|quently &s;o little e&s;teem'd, that 'tis rea&s;onably to be &s;uppos'd a Book&s;eller has not &s;uch another drug in his Shop. I was too weak to attempt the recovery of their lo&s;t honour, and therefore cho&s;e a new method of my own.</P>
<P>This may appear &s;omething odd to the Reader, becau&s;e it in&s;inuates as much as if I had &s;aid, I writ Novels in Sub&s;tance, but alter'd the Form. I confe&s;s I de&s;ign to leave him in the dark; and he may &s;uppo&s;e the &s;tories &s;o many real truths, or &s;o many little Romances as his fancy or judg|ment &s;hall guide him.</P>
<P>If it be objected, that I feign'd Nations, which is a thing rarely or never practis'd. I an&s;wer, if I make people bring them to good or bad ends, and keep their Lives and Honours in my own hands; by the &s;ame Authority I can ea&s;ily create a Country to &s;ettle them in. If the Amours be real, I ought in good manners to lay the Scenes in a new World, becau&s;e 'tis to be &s;uppos'd I de|&s;ign'd them not for</P>
<Q>&mdash;Monumenta Veneris Nefandae.</Q>
<P>And to be particular as to the Kingdoms, were the true way to di&s;cover tho&s;e concern'd.</P>
<PB REF="3">
<P> The Adventures of the <HI>Unfortunate Dutche&s;s</HI> are but few, not that the Subject could afford no more, but becau&s;e I had not much time to imploy that way. Be&s;ides my Printer o're-took me e're 'twas well begun, and hurry'd me to a &s;peedy clo&s;e. <HI>Daria</HI>'s are indeed too long, but I hope the Reader will not think it &s;o. I've &s;hown <HI>En|theon</HI> good Natur'd, and upon all emergencies tru|ly Generous, and if I have made him too ea&s;ie, at|tribute the cau&s;e to his exce&s;s of Love, and <HI>Eri|phile's</HI> irre&s;i&s;tle&s;s Charms. The fir&s;t confin'd his re&s;entment, and the latter di&s;arm'd his fury. The Dutche&s;s's Conduct is not to be ju&s;tified, but you will find I &s;carce de&s;ign'd any of my Lovers for exact patterns of Cha&s;tity and Honour. The&s;e romantick ways of Writing and Loving are equal|ly tedious, and very rarely credited. If &s;ometimes I mention every Circum&s;tance of an Action, or the Joys of an happy Night, 'tis only to make the &s;to|ry appear more probable, and to Cozen the Reader into a firmer belief of what may in it &s;elf be fiction.</P>
<P><HI>Love after Enjoyment,</HI> &amp;c. can hardly be thought a Mi&s;nomer, &s;ince <HI>Adra&s;tus</HI> in all his words and Actions &s;peaks an exce&s;&s;ive tenderne&s;s and pa&s;&s;ion for <HI>Timandra,</HI> nor did &s;he ever &s;how le&s;s for him. That in his ab&s;ence &s;he married the Duke of <HI>Mi|noya,</HI> can hardly be reputed a breach of Love, &s;ince for her excu&s;e &s;he rea&s;onably alledges, the World was too bu&s;ie with her Name, and 'twas high time to &s;alve her reputation, le&s;t the remedy had after|wards come too late, or it may be not at all. The &s;tory of <HI>Olmechine</HI> is in my opinion very Natu|ral, &s;he Lov'd him, yet was Virtuous, and forgot that pa&s;&s;ion &s;he had for him when <HI>Avilon</HI> (who fir&s;t had &s;ought her Heart) return'd. What con|cerns
<PB REF="3"> the Earl of <HI>Rucana,</HI> may at fir&s;t &s;ight &s;eem too nice to gain the Reputation of a Truth; but the Reader will hardly find any thing in it, that is not very probable, and in all points practicable.</P>
<P>In the <HI>Unhappy Mi&s;take</HI> it may perhaps be thought that I have been guilty of one my &s;elf, in crowding &s;o many People into &s;o &s;hort a &s;tory. <HI>Xen&s;a</HI> and <HI>Mangroa</HI> might have both been Wi|dowers, and <HI>Bonzeda</HI> had lo&s;t nothing had I robb'd him of a &s;i&s;ter. But I'm confident 'twill appear otherwi&s;e to any Man that deliberately weighs the Plott, nor will he find it any difficulty to remember every Man's bu&s;ine&s;s, Pretentions and Intere&s;t throughout the whole. <HI>Delia</HI>'s Adven|tures may indeed be too long. But you will find by the end of her own and <HI>Sirena's</HI> &s;tory, that I was &s;en&s;ible of my errour e're 'twas fully committed. I had wa&s;ted too much Paper; and was forc'd to kill more People in one Leaf, than I de&s;ign'd at fir&s;t in two. Yet after all, <HI>Martius</HI> and <HI>Artaxus</HI> fell not without Circum&s;tances, that largely entituled their deaths to probability and truth. As for <HI>Ericis,</HI> I was forc'd to u&s;e her ill, le&s;t Treachery had e|&s;cap'd unpuni&s;h'd. And <HI>Manderina</HI>'s end might very well be occa&s;ion'd by her griefs, if you con&s;i|der her lo&s;s.</P>
<P>Thus much I thought no le&s;s than nece&s;&s;ary, in defence of particulars, and as for general faults, I pre&s;ume they may all be comprehended under this one. The pa&s;&s;ions are not painted with the height of Mode&s;ty. If there is any thing that appears &s;mutty I'm confident a Lady can hardly own &s;he knows it to be &s;o, unle&s;s at the &s;ame time &s;he confe&s;s her own guilt, and lewd inclinations. For to the truly Virtuous 'tis &s;o well cover'd, it will hardly
<PB REF="4" MS="y"> &s;how it &s;elf. Be&s;ides, to expre&s;s any thing of that Nature nicely, methinks requires more of Art, and neat choice of words, than a pa&s;&s;ion truly mo|de&s;t, and if well done, is in &s;ome mea&s;ure pardo|nable; but that is what I would not be thought to defend, even tho' I were truly guilty.</P>
<P>I've nothing to &s;ay in relation to my &s;tyle or way of expre&s;&s;ing my &s;elf, I writ them for my own plea&s;ure and improvement in the <HI>Engli&s;h</HI> Language, and by con&s;equence &s;trove not to be too nice or elaborate, yet to &s;hun that trouble, you will find I've borrow'd nothing from others to indulge my wants.</P>
<P>The Reader will find an exce&s;s of grief or joy expre&s;s'd with mea&s;ure, the better to move the pa&s;&s;i|on, and as for what's purely narrative, I have us'd a natural way free from force or Affectation.</P>
<P>The wor&s;t of Criticks pretend to &s;ome Genero|&s;ity, and &s;pare dead Authors. In rea&s;on they ought to &s;how the &s;ame goodne&s;s to a &s;tranger, e&s;pecially when he is ab&s;ent; if they do, then I &s;hall be &s;afe, and this little Po&s;thumus may &s;tay behind, and live without its Father to protect and defend it.</P>
<CLOSER><SIGNED>D. Cr&mdash;rd</SIGNED></CLOSER>
</DIV1>
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<TEXT LANG="eng">
<FRONT>
<DIV1 TYPE="title page">
<PB REF="4">
<P>THE Unfortunate Dutche&s;s; OR, THE LUCKY GAMESTER.</P>
<P>Written by Mr. <HI>D. Cr&mdash;rd,</HI> Gent.</P>
<P><HI>LONDON,</HI> Printed for <HI>Job Au&s;tin</HI> in <HI>Fleet-Street,</HI> and &s;old by the Book&s;ellers of <HI>London</HI> and <HI>We&s;tmin&s;ter,</HI> 1700.</P>
<PB REF="5" MS="y">
<GAP DESC="duplicate" EXTENT="1 page">
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<GAP DESC="duplicate" EXTENT="1 page">
<PB REF="6" MS="y">
</DIV1>
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<BODY>
<DIV1 TYPE="letter">
<PB N="1" REF="6">
<HEAD>THE Unfortunate Dutche&s;s, <HI>&amp;c.</HI></HEAD>
<HEAD><HI>To the Divine</HI> Albi&s;inda.</HEAD>
<OPENER><SALUTE>Madam,</SALUTE></OPENER>
<P>WHEN I fir&s;t had the honour of your acquaintance, among&s;t tho&s;e number|le&s;s Qualities that render'd you &s;o amiable, and your Conver&s;ation &s;o charming and ea&s;ie; I found that e&s;teem you had for Plays and Novels, to be none of the lea&s;t con&s;iderable. It &s;peaks a tender Soul, and a large Portion of wit. To pity a feign'd Hero is commendable, becau&s;e 'tis a &s;ure Argument, that Compa&s;&s;ion would not be wanting to a real one. And to delight in tho&s;e things, which have a certain Air or Pa&s;&s;ion well repre&s;ented in them, &s;hews that the fancy of the Reader, is little or nothing inferiour to that of the Writer; for we can take no more plea&s;ure in that which we under&s;tand not, than in tho&s;e things which we under&s;tand too well. To re|move the weight of a few lazy Minutes, I &s;end you the fam'd amour of a Lady, whom a long Scene of Gallantry has at la&s;t render'd obnoxi|ous
<PB N="2" REF="7"> to the Laws of her Country. Her misfor|tunes make her too well known, and tho' &s;he is at pre&s;ent the Theme of her own Nation, I am confident the &s;tory has not yet reach'd yours. I'm no &s;uch Stranger to your Mode&s;ty, as not to fore&s;ee, that an exact account of &s;ome Cir|cum&s;tances would &s;eem culpable; and therefore &s;hall not give you ju&s;t grounds for anger, where my aim is to divert: Yet that I may not omit tho&s;e things without which the Story would be too imperfect; I beg a greater liberty than is perhaps truly adequate to the narrow rules of a preci&s;e mode&s;ty. I'm too unfortunate if you think my Nature loads me beyond tho&s;e bounds; and I hope if any thing of that kind e&s;cape un|poli&s;h'd, or without a nece&s;&s;ary Cover, you will attribute it to &s;ome other cau&s;e, or at lea&s;t &s;u|&s;pend your Judgment, till you &s;ee the Author, and permit him to an&s;wer for him&s;elf. To ex|cu&s;e all other faults, remember <HI>I</HI> love too much to Write well, and that when I'd fix my thoughts upon this Subject, I'm &s;urpris'd to find my Soul rides Po&s;t to you, and leaves me robb'd of Fancy or De&s;ign.</P>
<DIV2 TYPE="part">
<P>IN <HI>Clu&s;a</HI> (the Metropolis of the wealthy King|dom of <HI>Armenis,</HI> which is compos'd of the greate&s;t half of the I&s;land <HI>Sindaton)</HI> there liv'd a Beauty, whom Fortune and Nature had joyntly ble&s;s'd with all tho&s;e Graces that procure Adorers, yet render the po&s;&s;e&s;&s;or not altogether happy. No Man could &s;ee her and pre&s;erve his liberty, and therefore no Man could think him&s;elf &s;ecure in the po&s;&s;e&s;&s;ion; yet all the Youth of the Nation &s;igh'd for her, and tho&s;e whom Fortune had not
<PB N="3" REF="7"> ble&s;t with Wealth, gaz'd on the happy exalted Fair, and had tho&s;e thoughts for her, which we bear to di&s;tant Heaven, when yet we cannot paint the glorious Fabrick, or hope to reach the Ble&s;&s;ing. Her Father (the Earl of <HI>Ci|&s;ala)</HI> lov'd her more than Honour; he ble&s;t the Gods for this mighty gift, and with pride &s;aw him&s;elf the Ma&s;ter of a thou&s;and Hearts, by being the envied di&s;po&s;er of the Lovely <HI>Eriphile.</HI> The travelling God, in all his race, ne're &s;aw a form like hers beneath him; Love threw his Ar|rows through the yielding Air, or &s;hot at random to con&s;ume the trifles, her Eyes too fa&s;t &s;upply the wilful lo&s;s, and &s;trike even tho&s;e who ne're before had bow'd. She &s;eem'd the unknown Agent of the all-conquering <HI>Jove;</HI> for tho' &s;he had the &s;oftne&s;s of a pitying Godde&s;s, and the langui&s;hing looks of a yielding Virgin, yet her frowns out|&s;tretch'd thunder, and &s;hook the very State of powerful Love. Believe me, <HI>Albi&s;inda,</HI> the on|ly way to expre&s;s her Charms and Wit, were to to &s;ay &s;he copied you; and had &s;he prov'd as nicely Virtuous, &s;he had been indeed another Miracle. But Beauty too often proves fatal to the owner, and a hand&s;ome Face an Enemy to Honour. All men admire the truly Charm|ing, and continued A&s;&s;aults mu&s;t needs &s;hake the be&s;ieg'd, or force them at lea&s;t to Ar|ticles.</P>
<P>Among&s;t the numerous Youth of <HI>Armenis,</HI> none could yet pretend to merit the happine&s;s of her e&s;teem, and the Young Lovers had no relief from pains, but when they remember'd, that time mu&s;t advance one to the Heaven they aim
<PB N="4" REF="8"> at, and knew not but indulgent Providence had de&s;ign'd the Bli&s;s for them.</P>
<P>While thus &s;he reign'd, ab&s;olute in the Hearts of a thou&s;and noble Subjects, the Great Duke of <HI>Entheon</HI> arriv'd from his Travels. Him too &s;he Conquer'd, but pay'd her Liberty as a price for the glorious Victory. He is the fir&s;t Sub|ject of his Country, yet Ma&s;ter of a Soul that infinitely &s;urmounts his Birth or Quality. He has the Courage of a Man in de&s;pair, yet attended with the Caution and diffidency of a Coward, or one who values Life. Like Heaven &s;low to Anger, but if it concerns his Fame, &s;udden in the Execution, and quicker than Lightning. The liberality of a migh|ty Prince, and the careful management of a pri|vate Subject, are equally his. He has the Reli|gion of the good and wi&s;e, without the Biggotry of the &s;uper&s;titious and ignorant: Looks like a Crown'd Head, yet more affable than the mean|e&s;t Courtier, and values the honour of his Na|tive Country beyond his private intere&s;t, or his dearer Life. Admir'd by all men but him&s;elf, and envied by none but Villains, who damn tho&s;e Virtues in others, to which them&s;elves can ne're attain. He &s;peaks mo&s;t Languages, and is con|ver&s;ant in the Hi&s;tory of mo&s;t Nations. In &s;hort, Madam, 'tis generally &s;aid of him, that his Birth and breeding, make him truly the fir&s;t Gentleman in the World. <HI>Sindalon</HI> thought her &s;elf enrich'd beyond her Neighbouring Coun|tries, and the happy Inhabitants of <HI>Armenis,</HI> look'd on this miraculous Youth, as their Geni|us or Guardian Angel. Every Man became his
<PB N="5" REF="8"> Votary, and tho&s;e who had &s;pent mo&s;t of their Years abroad, felt yet tho&s;e little qualms, and di&s;turbances of Mind when they approach'd him, which ba&s;hful Strangers know in &s;hining Courts, when ey'd by Godlike Monarchs. The faire&s;t Ladies in <HI>Clu&s;a</HI> &s;igh'd for him, the King doated upon him, and all the World ble&s;t him. <HI>Ci&s;ala</HI> among&s;t the re&s;t, fail'd not to &s;hew that e&s;teem he had for him; and the Duke, who greedily had heard his Daughter's Beauty univer&s;ally proclaim'd, forgot not to embrace his Friend|&s;hip, he long'd to &s;ee the Original, which his Fancy, at &s;econd hand, began to form even be|yond what it was, or Nature e're cou'd make, and already believ'd that in all his Travels he had &s;een nothing comparable to the Fair <HI>Eriphile.</HI> The Earl's Country Hou&s;e was &s;ituated on the fertile Banks of that famous River which &s;up|&s;upplies <HI>Clu&s;a</HI> with daily Nece&s;&s;aries, and as it peaceably glides along wa&s;hes the Walls of its Monarch's Garden. Thither the noble Youth went to confirm the lo&s;s of his Liberty, which already he had half re&s;ign'd. <HI>Ci&s;ala</HI> receiv'd him with that re&s;pect, his merit every where exacted, without regard to Quality, and now thought he had found a Husband worthy of his Daughter; yet doubtful of his wi&s;h'd &s;ucce&s;s he acquainted the Fair One with the arrival of his Noble Gue&s;t. 'Twas impo&s;&s;ible to live in <HI>Armenis,</HI> and not to have heard of him; &s;he under&s;tood the meaning of this Adverti&s;ement, <GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter">nd carefully dre&s;t her &s;elf to the be&s;t advantage, an Art very commen|dable in Ladies, and in which tho&s;e of her Na|tion are particularly skill'd. The Earl diverted him &s;ome time with the Rarities of his Hou&s;e,
<PB N="6" REF="9"> and &s;hew'd him &s;everal pieces of exqui&s;ite paint|ing, done by the greate&s;t Ma&s;ters of the Age. <HI>Entheon</HI> felt a certain unexpre&s;&s;ible di&s;quiet, when he view'd a well-done Landskip, and wanted &s;omething which the&s;e Scenes &s;ugge&s;ted to his fancy, yet could harldly con&s;ult his Judg|ment to find what 'twas he &s;igh'd for. At la&s;t they re&s;olv'd to take a turn in the Garden; where the Earl meeting with &s;ome Friends that had come to &s;ee him that Evening, was oblig'd to beg the Duke's Pardon, and promis'd to wait upon him in a very few Minutes. <HI>Entheon</HI> now left alone, and about to pur&s;ue his walk, was &s;uddenly arre&s;ted by a Song that charm'd his Soul, and ty'd up all his thoughts. He won|der'd that he had not heard this Godlike Mu|&s;ick, but fancy'd the Charm was ju&s;t begun, or not heard to perfection, becau&s;e of his pa&s;t di&s;|cour&s;e with the Earl. He &s;tood &s;ometime im|moveable, yet impatient to &s;ee her that &s;ung &s;o like an Angel; he re&s;olv'd to lo&s;e one part of his pre&s;ent happine&s;s for the purcha&s;e of a grea|ter, and, guided by the Heavenly Voice, with eager &s;teps he reach'd at la&s;t the Grove. His Curio&s;ity (tho' great) did not too far extend it &s;elf; his pa&s;&s;ion ne're o're-rul'd his Judgment, and this juncture he manag'd with the di&s;cre|tion of old Age: For tho he could have enter'd, as if chance not de&s;ign had led him, yet he cho&s;e rather to keep him&s;elf undi&s;cover'd, and to be ble&s;t unknown. But <GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter">hen he advanc'd, and &s;oftly had pre&s;t down tho&s;e &s;mall boughs that ob&s;tructed his &s;ight, how much was he &s;urpris'd! to paint his thoughts, were a labour fit for a Mu&s;e at her full Strength! let this &s;uffice, he
<PB N="7" REF="9"> &s;aw <HI>Eriphile,</HI> and grew divinely mad. Mor|tality was forgot, and he remain'd in that exta|&s;ie, which if expre&s;t would &s;eem wholly irreli|gious, to any Man but a tran&s;ported Lover. The Fair One lay in a carele&s;s Po&s;ture, extended on the yielding Gra&s;s. Her Foot and half the Leg were obvious to his &s;ight, and the &s;canty Bli&s;s prompted his lingering Soul to Paint the Beauties yet un&s;een, even beyond the Original, or what Nature when &s;he us'd her utmo&s;t Art could form. He cur&s;t his Fortune that &s;hew'd no more, or el&s;e expos'd too much, and fear'd that a &s;hape &s;o far beyond what his eager thoughts had created, &s;hould be attended with the alloy of a homely Face; &s;till waiting with the impa|tiency of a Man half ble&s;t, till &s;ome kind acci|dent &s;hould encrea&s;e the plea&s;ure. She, who dreamt not of a prying Lover, proves kind with|out de&s;ign, and taking her favourite Maid by the Hand (with an accent that gave a perfect har|mony to all her words) &s;uddenly cry'd, my Dear <HI>Daria</HI> (for that was her Name) I've un|luckily lo&s;t one of my Garters. The Duke had no time to weigh his coming Fortune, and con|&s;equently lo&s;t part of the ble&s;&s;ing, for the charm|ing <HI>Eriphile</HI> had no &s;ooner &s;aid &s;o, than he could &s;ee the Pettycoat gently remov'd. The plea&s;ure of a longing &s;tranger, when the furling Curtain &s;hews a guilded Scene, and warlike Mu&s;ick Charms the un&s;teady thoughts, &s;ickens the Mind and thrills the kindl'd blood, but ne're yet gave a Joy confus'd like his. His tran&s;ports were &s;uch (which &s;ome will think next door to impo&s;&s;ibili|ty) that even Nature was hu&s;ht, the Soul alone imploy'd, and <HI>Plato</HI>'s way of loving was here
<PB N="8" REF="10"> practis'd to Perfection. Yet 'tis probable that had the old Philo&s;opher him&s;elf &s;een &s;o much, he had quit the Argument, and given the Body a conque&s;t o're the Soul. The amorous Duke, ble&s;t too much, was unable to contain him&s;elf, and after he had at once &s;urvey'd the tempting Object, and her more bewitching Face, &s;uddenly cry'd, Oh Heavens! Can &s;o much Beauty ever give her &s;elf up to the embraces of a Mortal? Sure 'tis anticipating Heaven to lye panting in her Arms.&mdash;'Twas well the Fair One &s;tarted from the Ground, the Lover el&s;e had prejudg'd the Duke, and his raptures had &s;poke his Judg|ment not the &s;ame he po&s;&s;e&s;t the preceeding mi|nute. But a violent Love &s;eldom knows any bounds, and when powerful Beauty &s;uddenly a&s;|&s;aults the Heart, Rea&s;on is often di&s;lodg'd, or at lea&s;t gives way, and then 'tis pardonable if a Man rave. However he begg'd a thou&s;and Pardons for his Sin of ignorance, and told her, that tho' he thought him&s;elf infinitely ble&s;t by this Encounter; yet he could have wi&s;h'd it had hapned at a time when &s;he was le&s;s di&s;pos'd to Solitude: And offer'd to retire, that by his &s;peedy ab&s;ence &s;he might retrieve a part of that &s;ilent plea&s;ure &s;he had lo&s;t, tho' not before he had a&s;|&s;ur'd her, that if his Curio&s;ity had led him to the Grove, he paid the Forfeiture of his Liber|ty, as a puni&s;hment for his offence. The bewitch|ing Maid, not knowing he had &s;een &s;o much, was pleas'd with the accident; their mutual &s;ur|pri&s;e added to the Beauties of both, and &s;he found by her forc'd &s;ilence, that the Duke was already more than indifferent to her. Yet a|&s;ham'd of this new weakne&s;s, &s;he &s;trove &s;udden|ly
<PB N="9" REF="10"> to recollect her &s;elf, and confu&s;edly told him, &s;he pre&s;um'd he was the Duke of <HI>Entheon;</HI> that her Father and the whole World &s;poke advan|tagiou&s;ly of him, and &s;he could not think her &s;elf unfortunate in the Conver&s;ation of a Man &s;o univer&s;ally e&s;teem'd. But that if he paid too great a price for that which enrich'd her, &s;he would be &s;o generous as not to urge him to &s;o much bounty, notwith&s;tanding of tho&s;e advantages &s;he might reap by it. This was indeed an obliging Compliment, but the fair <HI>Eriphile</HI> already lov'd him, and already knew it. She had too much wit therefore to lo&s;e &s;o favourable an opportunity of engaging a Man, for whom the greate&s;t Beau|ty in the I&s;land would have di&s;penc'd with the out-gaurds of Mode&s;ty, or rather the &s;uperfluous niceties impos'd by Cu&s;tom not Rea&s;on upon tho&s;e of her Sex. On the other hand the Duke thought him&s;elf in Heaven. His exce&s;s of Joy almo&s;t deny'd him the u&s;e of his Rea&s;on, and if ever he was non-plus'd, let me &s;uppo&s;e this the time. However from what &s;he &s;aid, he gue&s;t his &s;tay could not be altogether un&s;ea&s;onable. And after he had wittily acknowledg'd the Ho|nour &s;he did him, was about to begin Encomi|ums on her Beauty, when the Earl arriv'd and made the Number four. He told the young Lover, he was glad to find his ab&s;ence &s;upply'd by the Conver&s;ation of a young Lady, in whom if he found any thing agreeable he was doubly Fortunate. This too was a hand&s;ome begin|ning, and the Duke (who had too noble a Soul not to be amorous) that moment renounc'd his Liberty, which was repaid with hers. To have &s;een this lovely Pair, would have kindl'd flames
<PB N="10" REF="11"> in others, when icy Age had bani&s;h'd native Heat. The Earl him&s;elf cur&s;t grey Hairs, griev'd he was born &s;o &s;oon; and to be again capable of loving, and fit to be belov'd, would have re|nounc'd the World's Empire, and that experi|ence which his Years had brought him. <HI>Enthe|on</HI>'s looks &s;poke the agreeable di&s;orders of his Mind, and the charming Mi&s;tre&s;s of his Heart had &s;o much of a langui&s;hing &s;oftne&s;s, and new born Love in her Eyes, they reach'd his very Soul, and hurry'd him into exta&s;ie. The calm Evening added infinitely to their Plea&s;ure, nor did they think of parting till the falling Dew oblig'd them to't.</P>
<P>The Duke was already divided from him&s;elf, his thoughts were wholly imploy'd on the Ad|ventures of that Day, and he was &s;urpris'd to find him&s;elf in <HI>Clu&s;a,</HI> when he had hardly dreamt of his being on the Road. To inform you how he &s;pent the Night, were a needle&s;s labour, if you have been in Love, you can ea&s;ily form his Pains, his Hopes, his Fears, and the &s;trange e|motions of his Soul; and if you have not, you would hardly credit the Recital; as for the beau|teous <HI>Eriphile, Albi&s;inda,</HI> I leave her to your un|erring Judgment, doubtle&s;s you can Divine her Thoughts, and if you never was a Pri&s;oner to re&s;i&s;tle&s;s Love, yet your fancy can ea&s;ily paint her faint Joys, di&s;tant Cares, frequent Doubts, and di&s;order'd Thoughts.</P>
<P>Next Morning the Duke was at Court, e're the King had quit his Bed, and waited the Earl's arrival, with the impatiency of a young Lover. When he came, <HI>Entheon</HI> upon the fir&s;t occa&s;ion told him how happy he was in being a Fa|ther;
<PB N="11" REF="11"> and &s;miling (&s;aid he) <HI>Ci&s;ala,</HI> &s;ure you need no more to make you Ma&s;ter of all your fellow Creatures, than to &s;hew them what a Trea&s;ure you can di&s;po&s;e of. The Earl, who could ne're enough e&s;teem a Man of his Merit, was much pleas'd with this piece of Raillery (for &s;o he would term it) and told him, the World was indeed pleas'd to commend his Daughter's Beauty, and that he was heartily &s;en&s;ible of the Honour he did him, in heightning her Cha|racter. For his good Opinion mu&s;t needs be much to the advantage of a young Lady, &s;ince no Man refus'd to pay homage to his Judgment and Choice in every thing el&s;e: From this mi|nute let me date their Friend&s;hip. The Earl was no where to be found, but with the Duke; and <HI>Entheon</HI> mu&s;t be &s;ued to by <HI>Ci&s;ala.</HI> The Lover thought <HI>Clu&s;a</HI> no other than a De&s;art, or if a Ball at Court &s;ometimes oblig'd his Mi&s;tre&s;s to wait upon the Queen, he judg'd him&s;elf in ano|ther World. He found a livelier Air in every Man's Face, and the tran&s;ports of his elevated Soul were &s;uch, that with difficulty he ab&s;tain'd from giving publick Te&s;timonies of his inward &s;atisfaction. The happy <HI>Eriphile</HI> ey'd him with concern, thankt the gods for the ble&s;&s;ing of his Love, and knew no real Cares, but when &s;he dreamt &s;he did not plea&s;e enough. The Duke became the Object of her &s;erious Wi&s;hes, and he ne're petition'd Heaven without a Clau&s;e for her. Thus &s;ome Months were con&s;um'd, Love was an equal Friend to both, and mutual hopes en|creas'd their growing flames. Each of them fear'd the lo&s;s of the other, and the Duke having obtain'd the Earl's con&s;ent, Hymen could not
<PB N="12" REF="12"> be wanting in his. In a word, they were mar|ry'd.</P>
<P>I hope, <HI>Albi&s;inda,</HI> you'll excu&s;e me, if for the fir&s;t Night I draw the Curtain, and hide her Maiden blu&s;hes, when the ha&s;ty Youth took her in his Arms, trembl'd with the apprehen&s;ion of his coming Joy, &s;poke in &s;oft whi&s;pers, yet &s;carce knew what he &s;aid, and the beating of his Heart expre&s;t the eagerne&s;s of his Soul. When breathle&s;s on her panting Brea&s;ts he lay, &s;trove to be again ble&s;t, and again &s;unk beneath the weight of the exce&s;&s;ive Plea&s;ure; or better to expre&s;s it, when Love (too prodigally kind) gave him Heaven by the bulk, without a &s;trength of Mind adapted to the Ble&s;&s;ing. To paint the Joys of both were too much, let this &s;uffice, <HI>They lov'd, and were marry'd with con&s;ent of Friends.</HI> The Days now &s;eem'd Hours, or ra|ther le&s;&s;er Scenes of happine&s;s than the more wel|come Night; and in the morning (tho' divided) each of them thought they yet felt the fa&s;t em|braces of the other, and could hardly think them&s;elves unlockt; &s;o vigorou&s;ly had the re|membrance of the Soul's pa&s;t Joys imprinted it &s;elf upon the con&s;enting active Body. But this fair Weather was not of perpetual Duration, a Cloud hover'd in the Air, thickned on a &s;udden, and in time eclips'd the &s;hining happine&s;s of both.</P>
<P><HI>Fidelia,</HI> a Lady who&s;e Wit and Humour had made her (from a mean Station) the exalted Mi|&s;tre&s;s of a kind Monarch, had come (as u&s;ually &s;he did once a Day) to &s;ee the young Dutche&s;s. They were both addicted to gaming (a Diver&s;ion, <HI>Al|bi&s;inda,</HI> rarely known to the Ladies of your
<PB N="13" REF="12"> Country) and having plaid &s;ome time at Cards, they re&s;olv'd to vi&s;it the <HI>Centura,</HI> (with us call'd a Play-hou&s;e) where de&s;iring to pa&s;s <HI>Incognito,</HI> they dre&s;t for the purpo&s;e, and a little after the Play was begun, they appear'd in the &s;ide Boxes. Their Cloaths and Air drew the Eyes of a full Audience, and the Actors them&s;elves were &s;o much &s;urpris'd, they &s;carce remember'd one Cue of twenty, and were oblig'd to the care of the Prompter for every Sentence they &s;poke, who him&s;elf had been incapable of rendering that timely Service, if his Seat had fronted either the Stage or Pit. The mo&s;t daring of the <HI>Beaus</HI> ad|vanc'd, and tho' they judg'd them of Quality, yet &s;ince they were Maskt, they thought that, without being guilty of ill manners, they might attacque them. Among&s;t tho&s;e the Duke &s;hew'd him&s;elf none of the lea&s;t forward, and <HI>Fidelia</HI> (who was freer than the more mode&s;t <HI>Eriphile)</HI> was the one he a&s;&s;aulted; &s;he fail'd not to en|tertain him kindly, and the Dutche&s;s (who would not baulk the Adventure &s;o oddly begun) took up with the fir&s;t that offer'd him&s;elf. He was a hand&s;om Youth, and knew how to addre&s;s a Lady as well as any Man in the World. The Dutche&s;s was very well pleas'd with his Wit and Conver&s;ation, &s;he already lov'd this invi&s;ible way of intriguing, and thought it within a degree of godde&s;s&s;hip to be pray'd to un&s;een. The Duke (who was young and naturally amorous) &s;pent the hours very agreeably, and form'd a Beauty to him&s;elf like that of his fam'd <HI>Eriphile,</HI> yet propos'd only this &s;atisfaction to him&s;elf, that to &s;ee her robb'd of mode&s;ty would &s;erve to en|dear
<PB N="14" REF="13"> that which him&s;elf po&s;&s;e&s;t, with con&s;tant Virtue joyn'd.</P>
<P>When the Curtain was dropt, the Dutche&s;s ey'd <HI>Fidelia,</HI> as if wholly ignorant what to do; &s;he had rely'd on her; and &s;he (who was all Gaiety and Mirth, and knew well enough how to come off) gave the Duke her Hand, and hav|ing &s;eated them&s;elves in the Coach, drove to &s;ome noted Tavern not far off. When they en|ter'd the Room, the Duke humbly begg'd the Lady would unmask, <HI>Erinthus</HI> (for that was his Name who waited upon the Dutche&s;s) did the &s;ame, and both their unknown Mi&s;tre&s;&s;es were almo&s;t forc'd to cry out in their own defence, or chu&s;e to undergo a quick di&s;covery; but our Gallants perceiving they were ob&s;tinate, were at la&s;t fatisfied with their Fortunes. 'Twas an odd freak on both &s;ides, and enough to move any Man's &s;miles, had he &s;een how earne&s;tly they talkt, &s;wore, prais'd and lov'd what yet they had not &s;een. The Duke was charm'd with the wit of his unknown Mi&s;tre&s;s, and <HI>Eriphile</HI> felt tho&s;e emotions which &s;he ne're had known, but when &s;he fir&s;t &s;aw the godlike <HI>Entheon.</HI> At la&s;t they betook them&s;elves to Cards, where (at <HI>Pickquet) Erinthus</HI> won fifty Pieces from the Dutche&s;s; &s;he readily paid him, and this confirm'd him in what he almo&s;t before believ'd, that &s;he was of Quality. This put him upon his guard, in|&s;pir'd him with care to plea&s;e; he a&s;&s;um'd a new Air, and &s;hew'd &s;o much it &s;eems of Gallan|try, that the yielding <HI>Eriphile</HI> was perfectly charm'd.</P>
<P>The Clock at la&s;t (having &s;truck twelve)
<PB N="15" REF="13"> &s;ounded a Retreat, and they began to think of their re&s;pective concerns. The Lovers begg'd they'd allow them the Honour of waiting upon them to their Lodgings; 'twas readily granted, and the Coach being call'd, 'twas as readily put in Execution. The Dutche&s;s had given the Coach-man private Orders to drive to her Hou&s;e, and the Duke, who&s;e mind was much imploy'd, ne're examin'd the place till he found him&s;elf in his own Bed chamber. As he was about to ex|pre&s;s his &s;urpri&s;e, <HI>Eriphile</HI> and <HI>Fidelia</HI> unmaskt. <HI>Erinthus</HI> fir&s;t begg'd Pardon for his rude mi&s;take, and <HI>Entheon,</HI> (after he had rouz'd his di&s;order'd Judgment) &s;mil'd, and askt the Dutche&s;s if what he had done, gave her any cau&s;e to &s;u&s;pect his Faith, and hop'd <HI>Fidelia</HI>'s Wit excus'd him for &s;pending &s;o much time in her Company, when he had thought his Wife at home. <HI>Eriphile</HI> &s;mil'd too, and faintly an&s;wer'd, if <HI>Fidelia</HI> plea&s;e &s;he can ea&s;ily Charm, for Wit and Beauty joyn'd can ne're a&s;&s;ault a generous Heart in vain. The Duke was &s;urpris'd with this cold return, and 'tis certain the lovely Dutche&s;s ne're had us'd him &s;o before; &s;he was not now Jealous, nor had &s;he any Rea&s;on to fear the lo&s;s. But <HI>Erinthus</HI> already appear'd too Charming, and truth is, it &s;eems he had &s;omething about him very taking, and &s;ingularly agreeable, for he had before that time atack'd a Lady of the &s;ame Rank, and had not fail'd of the &s;ucce&s;s de&s;ir'd.</P>
<P>You may wonder perhaps, <HI>Albi&s;inda,</HI> why I am not more particular in my Character of this Man; but to &s;atisfie &s;ome part of your Curio&s;ity, know, he owes his Birth to <HI>Burgoa,</HI> a Common-Wealth rais'd by Trade, their indu&s;try, and the
<PB N="16" REF="14"> ea&s;ine&s;s of their prouder Neighbours, to a height unlookt for, &s;urmounting in Wealth tho&s;e very States or Kingdoms, from whom &s;ome Years ago they kneeling begg'd Protection. Love and Gallantry are Strangers to the Nation, many of their Souls are as Phlegmatick as their Bodies, and mo&s;t of them look like Machines or rather walk|ing Tuns. His Parents were forc'd to pur&s;ue a mean imployment to purcha&s;e a livelihood, and the now fortunate Lover, when young, left his Country in a Po&s;t &s;uitable to his Quality and Education. But having learnt in <HI>Armenis</HI> (what was by no means to be found at home) &s;ome|thing of a better Air, and the ea&s;ie &s;mooth way of &s;peaking peculiar to the Language of that more Polite Nation, he quickly found Prefer|ment. They are naturally kind enough to Strangers, and the advantages of his Per&s;on (which Nature it &s;eems de&s;ign'd not for a <HI>Bur|goan)</HI> conduc'd not a little to his good Fortune. That he was a lucky Game&s;ter may appear from this, that in a very &s;hort time he purchas'd an E&s;tate, and became a Companion to tho&s;e of the be&s;t Quality in <HI>Sindalon. Entheon</HI> us'd gaming as a wi&s;e Man ought to do, that is, for his Plea&s;ure; he always play'd without Heat, lo&s;t Cheerfully, and rarely laid down too much to be di&s;pos'd of by Fortune, remembring always how much of madne&s;s it &s;hew'd, to put that to a hazard which before was his own.</P>
<P>This accidental meeting already mention'd, gain'd him the Honour of the Duke's acquaint|ance; you may believe then, <HI>Albi&s;inda,</HI> that for the future he was no &s;tranger to his Hou&s;e; they &s;pent whole Days together, and Night her &s;elf
<PB N="17" REF="14"> could &s;ometimes hardly part them. <HI>Eriphile</HI> was always pleas'd when he was pre&s;ent, and lan|gui&s;h'd for his ab&s;ence. 'Tis true, her Virtue was yet &s;trong, and &s;he &s;truggl'd with the grow|ing Pa&s;&s;ion, hid her griefs with Art, and in her Eyes expre&s;t an ea&s;ier Soul. When &s;he play'd, her thoughts even then were hardly fix'd on Game, nor could &s;he truely grudge the fortu|nate <HI>Erinthus</HI> a double Victory.</P>
<P>The Youth already ob&s;erv'd his coming hap|pine&s;s, and by his indu&s;try to plea&s;e, advanc'd that Heaven he wi&s;h'd for. 'Tis impo&s;&s;ible, when alone to expre&s;s her pains, &s;he &s;aw how much &s;he lov'd, and from her yielding Heart could judge her Honour lo&s;t. <HI>Entheon</HI> &s;till was kind, &s;he knew his Merit, and fain would yet be ju&s;t; but powerful Love, with double force a&s;&s;ails, and &s;catters virtue's Charms that &s;top his way. Nor can he walk with Judgment who was always Blind.&mdash;Oh <HI>Albi&s;inda!</HI> that this charming Fair, at la&s;t betray'd her Marriage Vows, is not be di&s;puted. But to &s;ay, &s;he fell without a noble Conte&s;t, were too much. No Woman e're knew more, or was Mi&s;tre&s;s of bet|ter Inclinations, &s;he was &s;en&s;ible of her Errour, even when &s;he drew the Guilt upon her; and in his Arms (although &s;he lov'd) could have wi&s;h'd her Soul fled to &s;ave her &s;inking Honour. The World has more than common Charity for the fair <HI>Eriphile,</HI> and &s;ome People &s;cruple not to affirm, &s;he yielded e're &s;he knew &s;he had done &s;o. The Story, <HI>Albi&s;inda,</HI> is in this place known to all, and (even by tho&s;e who pretend to an exact knowledge in the &s;tate of Affairs relating
<PB N="18" REF="15"> relating to this amour) for a truth believ'd. And it runs thus,</P>
<P>The Duke it &s;eems had long profe&s;t a more than common tenderne&s;s for the lovely <HI>Daria,</HI> a Maid generou&s;ly educated, and of a noble Spirit, to her Mi&s;tre&s;s ju&s;t, nor to her &s;elf unkind. No allurements could prevail, no pre&s;ent found ac|ceptance, and the weakne&s;s of her Nature was always &s;upported by the &s;trength of her Virtue. But the Duke growing at la&s;t importunate, and ob&s;tinately kind, &s;he found it too hard to pre|&s;erve Honour and his Friend&s;hip too. In this pre&s;&s;ing juncture &s;he re&s;olv'd to abandon the Fa|mily, and after &s;he had with Tears in her Eyes told the Dutche&s;s, that an affair of Con&s;equence required her ab&s;ence, humbly begg'd &s;he'd make her happy in her Con&s;ent.</P>
<P>Her Mi&s;tre&s;s was too &s;en&s;ible of her Merit, to lo&s;e her without Reluctancy, and &s;aid to her, that if &s;he was any way di&s;oblig'd &s;he &s;hould have immediate &s;atisfaction; nor would &s;he give her Con&s;ent, unle&s;s &s;he were fir&s;t acquainted with tho&s;e Rea&s;ons that mov'd her departure. <HI>Daria</HI> wept, and on her Knees conjur'd her not to urge, what if betray'd would give her Pains unknown. This in&s;tead of &s;atisfying, encreas'd the Dutche&s;s Curio&s;ity, and &s;he was at la&s;t oblig'd to di&s;clo&s;e the whole.</P>
<P>Poor <HI>Eriphile</HI> was Thunder-&s;truck with the unwelcome Relation. Her Heart 'tis true alrea|dy was unfix'd, and &s;he had tho&s;e thoughts for <HI>Erinthus,</HI> which &s;poke him too much Ma&s;ter of her Soul. Yet &s;he lov'd the nobler <HI>Entheon,</HI> or at lea&s;t e&s;teem'd him &s;o much, that &s;he could
<PB N="19" REF="15"> not even in thought con&s;ent to lo&s;e him. In this afflicting affair her Wit or Invention at la&s;t offer'd this relief, which &s;he propos'd as the only means to confirm the Duke her own, and pre|&s;erve her <HI>Daria</HI> too. The Maid was &s;eemingly to yield, to make an a&s;&s;ignation, and that done &s;he was to leave what follow'd to <HI>Eriphele</HI>'s Care and Management. This was as &s;oon per|form'd as projected, for the faithful Maid (who&s;e Beauties were better'd by her new Griefs) was that Day more &s;trongly a&s;&s;aulted than ever, and &s;he could do no le&s;s than make an Appointment. Two in the Morning was the hour agreed upon, and you may ea&s;ily believe <HI>Entheon</HI> thought it an Age till Night. In the Afternoon <HI>Erinthus</HI> came to &s;ee him, of who&s;e Company he was at that time more than ever de&s;irous. To Cards they went, where the plea&s;ures of Love were for a while forgot, and Game and Wine the bu&s;i|ne&s;s of both.</P>
<P>In the mean time, the Dutche&s;s (willing to enjoy what was for her Maid de&s;ign'd) took po&s;&s;e&s;&s;ion of <HI>Daria</HI>'s Bed, and with much im|patiency waited the Duke's coming. The hour at la&s;t appear'd, but <HI>Entheon</HI> (whither indi&s;pos'd by drinking, &s;udden con&s;cientious qualms, or &s;itting up beyond his u&s;ual hour, I know not) felt no great inclination to the Combat. This freak, <HI>Albi&s;inda,</HI> is indeed unan&s;werable, e&s;pe|cially if you weigh the Conduct of this great Man; but 'tis confidently affirm'd that he ac|quainted <HI>Erinthus</HI> with the Intrigue. Told him, he found him&s;elf at that time unfit for the Field, and that if he pleas'd, he might &s;upply his Place. The forunate Youth was ravi&s;h'd with the kind
<PB N="20" REF="16"> offer, and told the Duke, that &s;ince he was on|ly to fight for the fir&s;t Blood, he was proud of the &s;ervice enjoyn'd him&punc; In &s;hort, <HI>Entheon</HI> conducted him to the Chamber door, which &s;tood open on purpo&s;e for him&s;elf, and there left him.</P>
<P>The Youth found the Bed in the dark, and I &s;uppo&s;e (without the help of a Candle) found the Dutche&s;s too. She receiv'd him, as &s;he'd have done her Husband, and if &s;he found him richer in his Love, &s;he attributed the Cau&s;e to liberal Fancy, that form'd her new, and of a &s;tale Wife made a tender young Mi&s;tre&s;s. How e're it was, they remain'd not long in the &s;tate of Ignorance, and each of them wonder'd why the other was &s;ilent; for tho' <HI>Erinthus</HI> would pa&s;s for <HI>Entheon,</HI> and <HI>Eriphile</HI> would for a time be <HI>Daria,</HI> yet the fir&s;t Joys and tran&s;ports fled, &s;he began to di&s;tingui&s;h the Lover from the Husband, and trembling &s;aid, My dear <HI>Enthe|on,</HI> why have you us'd me thus? I have been <HI>Daria,</HI> and under that Name much happier than my own. Ev'n when &s;he &s;poke &s;he doub|ted the truth, and us'd the&s;e words, only to be confirm'd in her Opinion. The Lover was ra|vi&s;h'd, the place on a &s;udden was converted in|to a new Heaven, and he only griev'd, that much of his pa&s;t Happine&s;s was lo&s;t, by being &s;o long ignorant of the value of that trea&s;ure he had po&s;&s;e&s;s'd. New Love, new Wi&s;hes, rouze him up to Life, and e're he &s;poke he would be ble&s;t again. <HI>Eriphile</HI> 'twixt fear and hope again receiv'd him, and even in his Arms could hardly know whether &s;he wi&s;h'd him <HI>En|theon</HI> or not.</P>
<PB N="21" REF="16">
<P> At la&s;t the fortunate Youth confe&s;s'd him&s;elf, told her that Chance and the Duke's kindne&s;s had made him happy, but &s;he alone could keep him in that &s;tate. That he had long ador'd her, and bountiful love had now repay'd his pains; that his happine&s;s &s;hould be conceal'd from all the World, and her Honour was now as &s;ecure, as if in <HI>Entheon</HI>'s Arms &s;he fainting lay. A Crime when fir&s;t committed is of greate&s;t weight, and frequent repetitions render tho&s;e things familiar and &s;eemingly innocent, which we at fir&s;t view'd with reluctancy and horror, for a &s;mall &s;in pa&s;t without grief, &s;peaks us in a fair way towards a greater. The Dutche&s;s 'tis true lov'd, and by his Voice knew the happy Man: But then &s;he remembred the lo&s;s of her honour, &s;aw how far &s;he had fall'n, and trembled when &s;he look'd back upon the frightful Precipice. She call'd to mind the Duke's pa&s;t Love, tho&s;e thoughts &s;he had for him, when fir&s;t he &s;ound her lying in the Grove, and knew his merit nothing yet dimi|ni&s;h'd. This my dear <HI>Albi&s;inda</HI> gave the Fair One &s;ome pains, for tho' her Nature had given con&s;ent, her Soul was yet Virtuous; and had <HI>Erinthus</HI> &s;een tho&s;e Tears &s;he &s;hed, all thoughts of Joy had vani&s;h'd from his Brea&s;t, grief had di&s;arm'd his eager wi&s;hes, and impotency by pi|ty brought, had &s;upply'd the place of vigorous Love. But, <HI>Albi&s;inda,</HI> 'twas in the dark, the Curtains drawn, they were alone, both lov'd and both forgot their Cares; you may ea&s;ily be|lieve he had his &s;hare; for tho' he was a <HI>Burgoan</HI> that is, a Man who&s;e Con&s;cience would never baulk his bu&s;ine&s;s, if attended with plea&s;ure or profit, yet he had &s;ome faint remembrance of
<PB N="22" REF="17"> that inju&s;tice he did to a Man, who had forgot his mean Birth, made him a Companion and &s;harer in his plea&s;ures, and had (or at lea&s;t thought &s;o) be&s;tow'd that Prize upon him, (in the &s;eeeming po&s;&s;e&s;&s;ion of <HI>Daria)</HI> which he him|&s;elf had &s;ought for many Months. In a word, all complaints were hu&s;h'd; the Dutche&s;s forgot what once &s;he was, what yet &s;he ought to have been, and own'd her Love was &s;tronger than her Virtue.</P>
<P>When the Youth retir'd, her Cares again en|creas'd, &s;he griev'd a lo&s;s &s;he could not then re|trieve, and wept and wi&s;h'd the bu&s;ine&s;s &s;till un|done. The&s;e indeed were the fir&s;t motions of her primitive Soul; but Love again brought it to a modern Con&s;titution, &s;he con&s;ider'd how &s;e|curely &s;he had enjoy'd the Man &s;he lov'd, and flatter'd her &s;elf with the thoughts of being real|ly innocent, becau&s;e the World yet thought her &s;o, and believ'd the manner in which it happen|ed extenuated the Crime. In the mean time, the Duke had waited the return of his Friend, (if now I may call him &s;o) and &s;miling ask'd, how happy he had been. <HI>Erinthus</HI> gave him a thou&s;and thanks for that Te&s;timony he had re|ceiv'd of his Friend&s;hip, but told the Adventure with &s;o much indifferency, that <HI>Entheon</HI> could hardly grudge that favour he had be&s;tow'd upon him. When he went to Bed, he was yet in&s;en|&s;ible of his lo&s;s, <HI>Eriphile</HI> was all lovely, and that Crime again&s;t his Love he had almo&s;t committed, endear'd the Object of his wi&s;hes more, than all her wonted Charms, or native goodne&s;s. He found her melancholy greater than u&s;ual, and griev'd that &s;he was not &s;o kind as &s;he u&s;ed to be,
<PB N="23" REF="17"> earne&s;tly ask'd the cau&s;e, and to comfort her, &s;wore, that he had that Noble Love for her, which our fir&s;t Father bore to his lovely <HI>Eve,</HI> e're Hell debauch'd her. She gave him feign'd returns, alledg'd &s;he was indi&s;pos'd, begg'd his Pardon for her &s;eeming indifferency, and faintly &s;aid, &s;he did belive he Lov'd her. The kind Duke was &s;atisfied, and in a few Minutes the Cares of both were &s;wallowed up in &s;leep.</P>
<P>This account, <HI>Albi&s;inda,</HI> is by &s;ome rejected, and your bu&s;ie Medlers, or News-pimps, who pretend to know every thing, confidently affirm, that <HI>Erinthus</HI> had won &s;o much from her at Cards, &s;he was nece&s;&s;arily oblig'd to pay the Sum with a favour that might have been the price of Empire.</P>
<P>Next day he came to wait upon the injur'd Duke (or rather the kind Dutche&s;s) and forgot not to improve every opportunity to the Advan|vantage of his Love. In a little time he became too happy, or at lea&s;t too often &s;o; and if the generous <HI>Entheon</HI> had in the lea&s;t &s;u&s;pected the Fair <HI>Eriphile</HI>'s weakne&s;s, or his Friend&s;hip, their guilt had been too obvious. His Noble Con|fidence made him too &s;ecure, till an Adven|ture that hapened &s;ome time after, taught them more caution, and him more of Jealou|&s;ie.</P>
<P>The Duke it &s;eems was oblig'd to attend the King, who then kept his Court twenty Miles from <HI>Clu&s;a.</HI> The Dutche&s;s knew of it the pre|ceeding Night, and had therefore order'd every thing nece&s;&s;ary for the reception of her Lover. Her Husband took Coach about Eight next Morning, and <HI>Erinthus</HI> was to wait upon her
<PB N="24" REF="18"> Grace at three in the Afternoon. She thought every hour had borrow'd from Eternity, and griev'd &s;he had delay'd her happine&s;s &s;o long. She &s;ighing lay upon the yielding Bed, and un|der the Modi&s;h covert of a &s;udden indi&s;po&s;ition, occa&s;ion'd by a Cold &s;he ne're had felt, avoided the un&s;ea&s;onable Vi&s;its of her trouble&s;ome Friends. <HI>Daria</HI> was alone privy to the intrigue, and tho' &s;he had all that re&s;pect for the Dutche&s;s, which her Duty in the &s;tricte&s;t &s;en&s;e could exact from her; yet &s;he griev'd to find her Virtue &s;o much weakned, and wi&s;h'd her innocent as when fir&s;t &s;he knew her. <HI>Eriphile</HI> had the goodne&s;s to excu&s;e her &s;elf as hand&s;omely as &s;he could, Painted her Lover dre&s;t with all his graces about him, and &s;how'd the power of &s;ubtle Love, in words that &s;poke her knowing in the My&s;tery. Poor <HI>Daria</HI> &s;igh'd as if &s;he had felt tho&s;e pains of which her Mi&s;tre&s;s &s;poke, and by her looks con|fe&s;s'd her inward griefs. The Dutche&s;s careful|ly ob&s;erv'd her frequent change of colour, and the flu&s;hing of her di&s;order'd Blood, and ask'd, if Love had ever led her Captive. The tender Maid blu&s;h'd, and by her &s;ilence confe&s;t the truth of what her Mi&s;tre&s;s had often much &s;u&s;|pected. She charg'd her upon her allegiance, as &s;he would pre&s;erve her e&s;teem, and make her think &s;he lov'd her, &s;he would relate the whole and by the &s;tory of her Love divert her melan|choly, till the arrival of the fortunate <HI>Erinthus. Daria</HI> excus'd her &s;elf from the performance as well as &s;he could; but &s;eeing 'twas not ac|ceepted, &s;he &s;igh'd, was &s;ome minutes &s;ilent, and addre&s;&s;ing her &s;elf to the Dutche&s;s, began as fol|loweth.</P>
</DIV2>
<DIV2 TYPE="part">
<PB N="25" REF="18">
<P>YOU know, Madam, I was born in <HI>Scar|ronida,</HI> your &s;i&s;ter Nation and of the &s;ame Religion with your &s;elves, a hardy Warlike Peo|ple, yet no Strangers to Love, and tho' we lye North from <HI>Armenis,</HI> and by our bounds make up the half of the I&s;land, yet we &s;eem nearer the Torrid Zone than you. My Father was a Gentleman very much e&s;teem'd, and tho' his Fortune did not prefer him to that height his Soul always aim'd at, yet his humour and agreeable Conver&s;ation, made him the darling of his grea|ter Neighbours, and he match'd with an ancient Family rich in Friends, and every way truly preferable to his own. I was the fir&s;t and la&s;t pledge of their Loves, and was ever doated upon by tho&s;e who &s;aw me, for that re&s;emblance <HI>I</HI> had of the Fair <HI>Julietta,</HI> (for that was my Mother's name) and <HI>Ari&s;teon</HI> (my kind Father) e&s;teem'd his Young Daughter even beyond Life or Em|pire. He &s;ought Wealth only to ble&s;s me in a Noble Marriage, and with &s;ecret Pride already ey'd my growing Beaury. Our Neighbour in the Country, the great <HI>Dion,</HI> who (tho' a pri|vate Gentleman) can for the &s;ervice of his Prince mu&s;ter an Army of his own Va&s;&s;als and Depen|dants, to the number of &s;ome thou&s;ands, had a Son whom all the World e&s;teem'd, whom many Beauties &s;igh'd for, and none attackt with &s;uc|ce&s;s. I was then in the &s;ixteenth Year of my Age, and tho' I had often &s;een him and heard him prais'd, yet my Heart had ne're &s;ubmitted to his Charms.</P>
<P>That Friend&s;hip which was between my Fa|ther and his, drew them often together, and the generous <HI>Dion</HI> has &s;ometimes &s;pent whole Weeks
<PB N="26" REF="19"> at our Hou&s;e. It hapened once, that while he rode a Hunting, and eager in the Cha&s;e, his Hor&s;e fell down a &s;loping Bank, and bruis'd his hardy Rider. <HI>Ari&s;teon</HI> was much concern'd for this Misfortune, and immediately &s;ent for his Son. The hand&s;om Youth came to our Hou&s;e with Tears in his Eyes, and mourn'd over his Aged Father, with the tenderne&s;s of a weeping. Mother, that griev'd the lo&s;s of her darling in|fant. There was &s;o much of the Man mixt with a Woman's &s;oftne&s;s in his pains, that I could not chu&s;e but ob&s;erve it. I was in&s;en&s;ibly pleas'd with every word he &s;poke, and &s;ighing wi&s;h'd I had had a Brother like him. His Cares for the old Man brought mine, and I could have wept for <HI>Dion,</HI> more earne&s;tly than when fir&s;t he got his Wounds. The Young <HI>Odmar</HI> (for &s;o he was call'd) took notice of my Cares, and from my Tenderne&s;s and Compa&s;&s;ion, argu'd the ea&s;i|ne&s;s of my Soul. I &s;hall not, Madam, prai&s;e my own Beauty; but he has afterwards told me, that the &s;oftne&s;s I then &s;how'd, reach'd his Heart, and from &s;mall griefs wound him to Pity, and tho' he had no cau&s;e much to &s;orrow for me, yet my pains to him &s;how'd double, and from Com|pa&s;&s;ion drew him up to Love.</P>
<P>I was one evening walking in the Garden, di&s;order'd in my thoughts, and examining my &s;elf to find if that unea&s;ine&s;s I knew proceeded from my Love to <HI>Odmar.</HI> But as I began the &s;crutiny, he enter'd, who alone could confirm the truth of what I fear'd. I trembl'd as he ap|proach'd, wi&s;h'd him gone, yet lov'd to &s;ee him &s;tay, and &s;carce could tell what thoughts po&s;&s;e&s;t my Heart. The Lovely Youth &s;oon apologiz'd
<PB N="27" REF="19"> for intruding upon my Retirement, and you may ea&s;ily imagine how readily I forgave him.</P>
<P>There was a plea&s;ant River at the back of the Garden-wall, and beyond that a &s;pacious Green, where feeding Flocks attend the Shep|herd&punc;s call, forget their pre&s;ent wants, and li&s;ten to the lov'd Mu&s;ick of his tuneful Pipe. There labouring Swains when toils out-&s;trip the Day, Dance with the Maids they Love, and cheat tho&s;e pains by cruel labour brought. The Gard'ner it &s;eems had by chance left the Back-door open, and there being a Tarra&s;s walk upon the top of the Bank, we re&s;olv'd from thence to view the open Fields. The Water murmur'd beneath us, and the little Fi&s;hes wanton'd in the Streams. The &s;et|ing Sun lookt back on that va&s;t trackt he had left behind him, griev'd to lo&s;e that pro&s;pect once he had, and as he &s;toop'd beneath the veil of Night, rouz'd up him&s;elf with eagerne&s;s, and by a fla&s;h of new born Light, would gild the di&s;tant Mountains. Ju&s;t &s;o a Lover when he quits the Shoar, with trouble views the Mi&s;tre&s;s of his Vows, longs to be nigh, yet &s;till he &s;lides away, and when he's almo&s;t bani&s;h'd from her &s;ight, he &s;tands aloft and glads her from afar, and by his ge&s;tures &s;hows he fain would &s;tay. In a word, Madam, the place and the Company very much charm'd me, and I felt that painful joy at my Heart, which &s;peaks us &s;ick with Love. Among&s;t other things, I askt <HI>Odmar,</HI> if his Fa|ther's pains were yet abated, if he hop'd a &s;peedy recovery, and told him, that tho' I was proud of his Company, yet I could not chu&s;e but grieve the occa&s;ion that brought us &s;o often together.
<PB N="28" REF="20"> <HI>Madam,</HI> reply'd he) <HI>I cannot be &s;o happy in this World, as when I am in</HI> Ari&s;teon<HI>'s Hou&s;e, and yet I think it fatal to me, for as the Father's pains decrea&s;e, the Sons are &s;till augmented, and tho&s;e torments that oppre&s;t the old Man's body, are doubly charg'd upon the young Man's Soul.</HI> I blu&s;h'd as he &s;poke, and &s;o many crowding thoughts fill'd my Brea&s;t, I was unable from the confus'd heap to produce one to &s;erve the pre|&s;ent exigency. My un&s;ea&s;onable &s;ilence &s;hew'd I under&s;tood his Language too well, and had be|fore thought of (nay it may be wi&s;h'd for) what I heard.</P>
<P><HI>Odmar</HI> read his good Fortune in my Eyes, and (willing to make u&s;e of the lucky Minute) threw him&s;elf at my Feet, conjur'd me to re|member that his Life and Fortune depended on what I was about to &s;ay, that one kind word gave him Heaven, and my anger made him the unhappie&s;t of Men. That 'twas impo&s;&s;ible for him to live without me, and he'd forfeit every thing he held dear on Earth, for the greater ble&s;&s;ing of my Love.&mdash;His fears, Madam, were vain, I e&s;teem'd him too much to give him more of Pain, and reply'd in Terms that &s;poke him not indifferent to my Soul. Had your Grace &s;een his looks, when he found me &s;o calm, in &s;pite of all your Mode&s;ty you would have doated on him, and I dare &s;ay 'twas impo&s;&s;i|ble for Woman to have us'd him otherwi&s;e than I did.</P>
<P><HI>Dion</HI> at la&s;t recover'd, and I mu&s;t &s;ay, tho' I wi&s;h'd him well, I griev'd his Health re&s;tor'd, 'cau&s;e by his ab&s;ence I was robb'd of <HI>Odmar.</HI> Our parting yet pre&s;ents it &s;elf to my view, and
<PB N="29" REF="20"> I &s;ee the lovely Youth drown'd in Melancholy, a&s;ham'd of his weakne&s;s, yet weeping as he &s;poke. His Hou&s;e was but three Miles from ours. I bid him remember <HI>that</HI> Conveniency, and propos'd an Enterview at lea&s;t once a Week. The Youth (who was o rejoy'd to find me &s;o kind, and in|dulgent to his flame) was almo&s;t dumb with ex|ta&s;ie, and &s;wore he ne're could Merit any part of that Goodne&s;s I had &s;hown; and that his Life was not of worth enough to repay my &s;tock of Love.</P>
<P>When he was gone, methought I yet &s;aw him, heard him, felt his &s;oft ki&s;&s;es, and gaz'd upon the <HI>Phantom.</HI> My tender Heart could hardly bear the burden of a long Weeks ab&s;ence. A thou&s;and times I trac'd the Tarra&s;s walk, and if from afar I e&s;py'd ought that re&s;embl'd Hu|mane Kind, I long'd and wi&s;h'd it him. <HI>Odmar</HI> &s;har'd in ev'ry thought, and my Father's Hou&s;e lookt runious, dead and decay'd, &s;ince the de|parture of the &s;prightly Youth. I remembred every word he &s;poke, when fir&s;t he &s;wore he Lov'd, and cur'&s;t the hour that took him from my Sight. I blu&s;h not, Madam, to &s;ay, no Wo|man ever lov'd like <HI>Daria,</HI> and no Man e're me|rited more than <HI>Odmar.</HI></P>
<P>To avoid Di&s;covery, I was to meet him a Mile from our Hou&s;e, the River already men|tion'd which run by the Garden, chalk'd out my way, and I went along upon the dewy Banks, and &s;haded from the Sun by &s;preading Oaks. When we met 'was impo&s;&s;ible for either of us to expre&s;s our Joys: We gaz'd, &s;igh'd, and em|brac'd, as if our Souls had joyn'd; griev'd that time flew too fa&s;t, and wi&s;h'd the Minutes Years.
<PB N="30" REF="21"> What e're he &s;aid was welcome to my mind, and tho' I li&s;tned to his Voice, with all the plea&s;ure of a ravi&s;h'd Maid, yet I often broke the thread of his Di&s;cour&s;e, by asking a thou&s;and little kind yet in&s;ignificant Que&s;tions, becau&s;e like him I'd &s;how how much I lov'd. Thus have we &s;pent a few &s;hort hours, then griev'd and parted, tho' never before we had fix'd the Day for our next Enterview. At this time we rail'd at Fortune and our Stars, and mourn'd we could not meet to &s;tay for ever. But had we known the com|ing ill, we'd then have judg'd our &s;elves truly happy.</P>
<P>My Father it &s;eems had often mi&s;s'd me, and found by con&s;tant Ob&s;ervation that I was ab|&s;ent twice every Week, and always at the &s;ame hours. He knew not at fir&s;t what to think of this adventure, he dreamt not of <HI>Odmar,</HI> and won|der'd much that I &s;hould walk abroad alone. 'Tis true he had taken notice of my Melancholy, tho' ignorant of the Cau&s;e, and was now afraid that I began to humour that weakne&s;s of the mind, which &s;o often proves fatal to the Beauty and the Judgment of its Slave, knowing that while we humble the mind too far, we &s;ink the body quite. But then again con&s;idering my Years, my few Cares (unle&s;s I lov'd) his and my Mother's kindne&s;s to me, he could hardly Credit that thought; to rid him&s;elf therefore of his doubts, he re&s;olv'd to watch me narrowly for the future, and in per&s;on make a true and wi&s;h'd di&s;covery of the hidden &s;ecret.</P>
<P>The early Day drove on the yielding Night, and as the latter fled, the fir&s;t in view appear'd, proud of the Conque&s;t, and growing in his
<PB N="31" REF="21"> &s;trength. The happier gods lay &s;tretcht upon their Beds, and loath to ri&s;e, rais'd up their awe|ful Heads, look'd down, and &s;huffl'd by the thicker Clouds, to &s;ee if bu&s;ie mortals yet were &s;tirring, but viewing the dark and &s;olitary Globe, they &s;hrinkt again beneath the covert of the Night half fled, and clos'd up the Gape of Heaven to wait the arrival of the marching Day. In a word, Madam, 'twas very early in the morning when <HI>I</HI> aro&s;e, and took that road which led me to my Love. My Father follow'd me &s;o clo&s;e, that un&s;een he po&s;ted him&s;elf behind a Bu&s;h, hard by that &s;hade where gentle <HI>Odmar</HI> lay. When I appear'd, the Youth aro&s;e and caught me in his Arms. Oh welcome to my Brea&s;t, (he cry'd) my beauteous generous <HI>Daria!</HI> What Love can repay this favour, or what words expre&s;s my boundle&s;s Joy. When all the World &s;leeps, we two are awake, and kind <HI>Da|ria</HI> robs her &s;elf of re&s;t to ea&s;e her <HI>Odmar</HI> from the pains of ab&s;ence. <HI>Ari&s;teon</HI> who &s;aw how fa|miliarly he embrac'd me, and di&s;tinctly heard every word he &s;poke, was &s;trangely &s;urpris'd, and wi&s;h'd him&s;elf in the other World, that he might be in&s;en&s;ible of that affront he already thought done him in this; and doubted not but I was born for his ruine, and the di&s;grace of his Fami|ly. He was a Man, Madam, rigorou&s;ly good, and lov'd me very tenderly; from this you may ea&s;ily imagine the troubles of his Mind, and with what difficulty he contain'd him&s;elf. While <HI>Odmar</HI> &s;poke, I had felt a &s;udden trembling at my Heart, new-born fears oppre&s;s'd my ea&s;ie Soul, and I was &s;ick with the apprehen&s;ion of &s;ome coming danger, yet could not fore&s;ee how,
<PB N="32" REF="22"> or from whence the dreaded ill &s;hould come The young Man was &s;en&s;ibly afflicted with the unlookt for change, threw him&s;elf at my Feet, and &s;ighing cry'd. <HI>O my</HI> Daria <HI>whence this new coldne&s;s to the Man that Loves you! You have been kind, I have been more happy and&mdash;A ri&s;teon</HI> no longer doubting what before he much had fear'd, with fury in his looks eppear'd. He continued &s;ome time &s;ilent, his pa&s;&s;ion denying him the liberty of &s;peaking, or it may be he waited till his heat abated, and his judgment &s;hould take place. My &s;urpri&s;e, Madam, is not to be painted in words, and kind <HI>Odmar</HI> griev'd and look'd on me. My Father look'd &s;tedfa&s;tly upon me, and taking me by the Hand, which eagerly he gra&s;pt, he calmly but re&s;olv'dly &s;aid, Well, well, <HI>Daria,</HI> you have undone your &s;elf, and bani&s;h'd ea&s;e from me. My misfortune comes from that &s;ide from whence I lea&s;t ex|pected any unkindne&s;s, and <HI>Odmar</HI> wrongs that Man, that would have laid down his Life for his or <HI>Dion</HI>'s &s;ervice. Ah! Why did he ask? or why did you con&s;ent? Iv'e no comfort now, but that the tender <HI>Julietta</HI> is yet ignorant of her Daughter's weakne&s;s. My Lover was &s;o amaz'd, he knew not what to &s;ay. But falling on his Knees he embrac'd tho&s;e of <HI>Ari&s;teon,</HI> and at la&s;t &s;wore by all the Powers above, he never yet de|&s;ign'd him any harm, and that his Daughter was Virtuous ev'n to a fault. But if innocent Love, or cha&s;t mutual flames were crimes, he own'd we both were guilty, and de&s;erv'd his anger. <HI>Daria</HI>'s Birth (continued he) is in nothing infe|riour to <HI>Odmar</HI>'s; and if my Fortune &s;urmounts hers, her Virtue turns the &s;cale, and with her
<PB N="33" REF="22"> Beauty joyn'd, weighs more than <HI>Dion</HI>'s Wealth, or all the glorious riches of the <HI>Indies.</HI> My Father with Tears in his Eyes rais'd him from the ground, and again taking me by the Hand, Come, come, <HI>Daria,</HI> (&s;aid he) the&s;e are fine Baits to catch Fools and ignorant ea&s;ie Maids withal. <HI>Odmar,</HI> for your Father's &s;ake I cea&s;e to re&s;ent this injury as I ought, tho' you have hurt me in the mo&s;t tender part. <HI>She has been kind, you have been happy:</HI> But neither of you &s;hall be &s;o again, and now you part for ever. This &s;aid, he turn'd his face and mine away, and curs'd the hour brought <HI>Odmar</HI> to our Hou&s;e&punc; To have &s;een the afflicted Lover, (for I would look back) would have baffl'd all the Precepts of Philo&s;ophy, and turn'd the &s;tronge&s;t Rea&s;on and mo&s;t fortified Judgment into downright madne&s;s. My Soul was in a perfect frenzy, and I could have rail'd again&s;t Heaven and Nature, and damn'd that wanton &s;lippery minute that gave me fir&s;t a being.</P>
<P>When we came home, I retir'd to my Cham|ber. To tell you my thoughts, Madam, were to undertake an imployment that yet would di|&s;tract me. I con&s;ider'd my lo&s;s, my indi&s;creet management, my poor Father's grief, and by his concern and Love for me, &s;oon found, that I ought not to have done any thing of that con|&s;equence without his knowledge and con&s;ent. I remembred his Tears, his &s;ilence by the way (for he had not &s;poke one word to me upon the Road) the words my Lover utter'd, which might give him ju&s;t grounds to &s;u&s;pect my frailty. But mo&s;t of all <HI>I</HI> remembred my afflicted <HI>Odmar;</HI> methought <HI>I</HI> yet &s;aw him &s;peaking to my Father, yet eying
<PB N="34" REF="23"> me, and &s;carce Ma&s;ter of his Judgment, &s;o much for me he fear'd.</P>
<P>My Mother wonder'd &s;he had not &s;een me all that day, and enquiring for me of <HI>Ari&s;teon,</HI> &s;he was told I kept my Chamber, that he had &s;poke &s;ome things to me, which tho' not har&s;h in them&s;elves, yet had brought my Tears; and de|&s;ir'd her to a&s;&s;ure me, that he was again pleas'd, and pardon'd what could not be recall'd, if for the future I forbore to offend in that kind. <HI>Ju|lietta</HI> de&s;ir'd he'd impart the cau&s;e of this little quarrel, and told him, &s;he was afraid he had been unju&s;t to me, becau&s;e &s;he knew I dreaded to di&s;|plea&s;e him. Be&s;ides, &s;he was confident my Na|ture led me not to any thing, that in the lea&s;t look'd like di&s;obedience. My Father &s;aid he knew 'twas &s;o, and that he was &s;orry for what he had &s;aid. You &s;ee, Madam, he had the ten|derne&s;s of a Kind Parent, and the goodne&s;s of a Ju&s;t Husband. He already forgot (as much as po&s;&s;ible) what he had heard and &s;een; my Tears had melted him, and after he had &s;eriou&s;ly ex|amin'd <HI>Odmar</HI>'s words, the hopes of finding me truly innocent yet chear'd his Soul, and by quick degrees had rais'd him up to better, kinder thoughts. To <HI>Julietta</HI> he was ju&s;t in the con|cealment of what had brought her too many fears; and to &s;how the goodne&s;s of his humour, from my infancy <HI>I</HI> ob&s;erv'd, that he had the tender|ne&s;s of a Young Lover for her, &s;tudy'd to plea&s;e, as if he yet courted her e&s;teem; &s;he was a Mi|&s;tre&s;s and a Wife, and never griev'd without a con&s;tant &s;harer.</P>
<P>When &s;he came to &s;ee me, &s;he found my de|clining Head &s;upported by my Arm, I was half
<PB N="35" REF="23"> a&s;leep, my &s;orrows having wearied out my active thoughts, and burden'd yielding Nature; unwilling to awake me, &s;he was about to retire, when her ha&s;ty &s;teps prevented all her cares, and rouz'd me till I &s;tarted from my Lethargy. I doubted not but that <HI>Ari&s;teon</HI> had fully inform'd her of what had pa&s;t, and throwing my &s;elf at her feet, conjur'd her to believe me innocent, &s;wore I ne're had yielded even in thought; that the gen'rous kind <HI>Odmar</HI> had a better opinion of my Virtue, than to think of, or propo&s;e a thing that would have given me cau&s;e eternally to hate him. That I was faulty in nothing but in con|cealing a Secret of that weight from my Father and her. But that I &s;hould attone for that Crime by my future Conduct.</P>
<P><HI>Julietta</HI> was much &s;tartled with what &s;he heard, but being of a ready Wit, ea&s;ily conceal'd her pa&s;t ignorance, and plea&s;antly ask'd me why <HI>A|ri&s;teon</HI> was incens'd again&s;t <HI>Odmar?</HI> If you con|ceal'd it (added &s;he) where was the Crime? Come, tell me all again, for I'm afraid your Fa|ther was bya&s;s'd by his Pa&s;&s;ion when he inform'd me of the Adventure.&mdash;You may believe, Madam, I fail'd not to obey, and thereupon gave her a true account of every thing that concern'd my Love, and that di&s;covery <HI>Ari&s;teon</HI> had made. While I told the Story I could ob&s;erve &s;trange changes and alterations in her looks. By turns, &s;he ey'd me with concern, anger, fear, joy, and grief. However the relation once ended, &s;he threw her Arms about my Neck, wept with the &s;udden tran&s;port of indulgent thoughts, and a&s;|&s;ur'd me &s;he had fear'd much my weakne&s;s, 'cau&s;e I yet was Young. But that now all her fears
<PB N="36" REF="24"> were vani&s;h'd, and &s;he believ'd me Virtuous. That <HI>Ari&s;teon</HI> had conceal'd from her what had hapned that day, yet had &s;ent her to inform me, that he forgave me all. This, Madam, gave me a double joy, and I could hardly forbear laughing when I con&s;ider'd my pa&s;t thoughts, my fears, and that ugly face my dejected fancy had given to my Fortune, and now &s;aw that which <HI>I</HI> had indu&s;triou&s;ly form'd to encrea&s;e my own pain, in half a minute vani&s;h'd. I thank'd <HI>Julietta</HI> for her tenderne&s;s and that good opinion &s;he had of me, and ju&s;t as I &s;poke <HI>Ari&s;teon</HI> en|ter'd. He had left me in Tears, and the fond|ne&s;s of his Nature made him impatient till in &s;ome mea&s;ure he had re&s;tor'd my peace of mind. <HI>Da|ria</HI> (&s;aid he) you &s;ee I'm a kind Father, and tho' you have offended, I come to &s;ue for Par|don, and am pleas'd to confe&s;s I wrong'd you Come my Dear, for the future let us have no cau&s;e for ju&s;t complaints from either &s;ide, and let m<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter"> hope that you truly de&s;erve that good opinion <GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter"> have of you. My Mother &s;aid &s;he'd an&s;wer in my behalf, for tho' I had been weak, yet &s;he wa<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter"> per&s;waded <HI>Odmar</HI> had a greater re&s;pect for him than to attempt the di&s;honouring of his Daugh|ter. Ha! (cry'd <HI>Ari&s;teon)</HI> then my <HI>Julietta</HI> you have found the occa&s;ion of our quarrel? Ye<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter"> (reply'd &s;he) and am &s;orry you made a Secret o<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter"> what all the World may know, without prejudice<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="MURP" EXTENT="1 letter"> to her Honour or that of our Hou&s;e. <HI>Ari&s;teon</HI> &s;aid, that at fir&s;t his fears were it may be too great, but now his mind was at re&s;t, and I could only keep him &s;o by my &s;olemn promi&s;e before <HI>Julietta,</HI> never to &s;ee <HI>Odmar</HI> or to Love him more. This, Madam, was a hard proof of my
<PB N="37" REF="24"> Obedience, and at fir&s;t I was very much &s;urpris'd with the propo&s;al. But &s;uddenly remembring that 'twas no mortal &s;in if I &s;hould &s;ee my Lover afterwards; I gave the proof of allegiance de|&s;ir'd, and engag'd never to conver&s;e with him again, unle&s;s one or both of them were pre|&s;ent.</P>
<P>Thus, Madam, the &s;torm I &s;o much fear'd blew over, my &s;in of Love was forgot, and I ab&s;olv'd for a performance of the penance en|joyn'd me. How far I play'd the Penitent, you may ea&s;ily judge by what follow'd in a very few days.</P>
<P><HI>Dion</HI> came to our Hou&s;e (as he us'd to do) attended by two or three Servants. Methought I had a more than common intere&s;t in them, and could hardly forbear te&s;tifying &s;o much to his very Slaves. I ey'd them with a pa&s;&s;ion that is not ea&s;ily to be expre&s;t, for I cannot po&s;itively &s;ay that I hop'd for any thing from them, and yet my mind gave me, that <HI>Odmar</HI> had (it might be) &s;poke to &s;ome of them, and if he had not written to me, at lea&s;t commanded them to ob|&s;erve my Eyes, and afterwards inform him if there they &s;aw any &s;igns of Langui&s;hment or Sorrow for his ab&s;ence. In each of their Faces (for from my Window I could &s;ee them playing in the Court,) methought I read my own mi&s;|fortune, remembred that next night they would be with <HI>Odmar,</HI> yet were in&s;en&s;ible of he hap|pine&s;s, and almo&s;t dy'd with grief, when I thought the Dear Youth had not &s;ent me any Mark of his continued Love.</P>
<P>In this dejected humour I retir'd; left the old People together, and in the Garden &s;ought for
<PB N="38" REF="25"> ea&s;e where fir&s;t I lo&s;t it. <HI>Rigd,</HI> (for that was the Name of one of the Servants) follow'd at a di|&s;tance, and taking an Alley which cro&s;s'd that in which I walk'd, he met me as if chance had led him. You may believe, Madam, I was plea|&s;antly enough &s;urpris'd when he gave me a Let|ter, and &s;miling told me, his Young Ma&s;ter had been Po&s;t to him&s;elf, if <HI>Dion</HI> had not prevented him. When I received it, I &s;carce knew what to &s;ay; and I mu&s;t confe&s;s <HI>I</HI> had not Art enough to hide my inward Joy. Having opened it, <HI>I</HI> found the&s;e words:</P>
<LETTER LANG="eng">
<OPENER><SALUTE>My <HI>Daria,</HI></SALUTE></OPENER>
<P><HI>WOu'd to Heaven you knew the troubles of my anxious Brea&s;t, and all tho&s;e pains that rack my burden'd Soul. Oh</HI> Daria! <HI>If</HI> A|ri&s;teon's <HI>frowns have bani&s;h'd</HI> Odmar <HI>from your Heart, I'm the mo&s;t wretched of Human Kind. Think! Think my Dear! of &s;ome means to pro|cure me that happine&s;s I once po&s;&s;e&s;t. To &s;ee thee, and to hear thee &s;peak, gives tho&s;e Joys that even a Lover cannot half expre&s;s. I'm mad 'twixt grief and Love; I would write more, but&mdash;Oh remember that during this ab&s;ence I am</HI> thy un|happy.</P>
<CLOSER><SIGNED>Odmar.</SIGNED></CLOSER>
</LETTER>
<P>How much <HI>I</HI> lov'd, and how this Letter was receiv'd, may appear from my An&s;wer. Which was to this purpo&s;e, if my memory &s;erves me.</P>
<LETTER LANG="eng">
<PB N="39" REF="25">
<OPENER><SALUTE>My <HI>Odmar,</HI></SALUTE></OPENER>
<P><HI>IF you Love like me, I can ea&s;ily paint your troubles and all tho&s;e pains that rack you; and to convince you that no power can bani&s;h</HI> Odmar <HI>from his</HI> Daria<HI>'s thoughts, I'll &s;ee you and &s;peak to you, tho' oblig'd to the contrary by a &s;olemn Pro|mi&s;e. To morrow's Night then (at</HI> Nine <HI>of the Clock) come to the Back-door of the Garden, on that &s;ide next the Fields, and in the new Lodge you'll find</HI> your longing</P>
<CLOSER><SIGNED>Daria.</SIGNED></CLOSER>
</LETTER>
<P>The Lodge much re&s;embl'd a Pavilion, 'twas &s;tor'd with Books and Pictures, and from the Window one might &s;ee three Rivers joyn into one Body; and falling from a mighty precipice in view, you'd thought they &s;hak'd the very Floor on which you &s;tood. The bubling and hollow noi&s;e of the greater &s;tream provok'd your Melancholy, and fed the Lamp of Love. I had of late much frequented that place, <HI>I</HI> kept the Key my &s;elf, and could not think of one more convenient for this &s;tol'n enterview. 'Twas there <HI>I</HI> writ my Letter undi&s;cover'd, and there re&s;olv'd to meet my welcome Lover; my Fa|ther alone us'd to po&s;&s;e&s;s it, 'tis true; but on the other hand <HI>I</HI> remembred, that <HI>I</HI> had not &s;een him there for twelve long Months pa&s;t. In a word, Madam, <HI>I</HI> thought the place very &s;ecure, and al|ready wi&s;h'd the Night gone, that &s;tood like a heavy Age between me and my happine&s;s. Me|thought <HI>I</HI> already &s;aw the tran&s;ported Youth begging at my Feet, melting my Heart, and
<PB N="40" REF="26"> conquering as he &s;poke. <HI>I</HI> dreamt of nothing but <HI>Odmar,</HI> or if <HI>I</HI> awak'd <HI>I</HI> &s;carce knew that <HI>I</HI> did &s;o, for the lovely Image was &s;o &s;trongly im|printed, <HI>I</HI> knew not if my Judgment or my active Fancy form'd him.</P>
<P>When <HI>Day</HI> appear'd, the morning mov'd &s;o faintly, you'd thought the lingring <HI>Night</HI> had dar'd him to the Combat, and vow'd the &s;ole po&s;&s;e&s;&s;ion of the Skies. <HI>I</HI> quit my Bed &s;o early, that from my Chamber Window <HI>I</HI> could not de&s;cry any thing awake but my &s;elf, a dead &s;i|lence reign'd in every part, and not one watchful Bird yet welcom'd in the light, the yielding Gra&s;s lay cover'd o're with Dew, and the nodding Trees &s;poke Nature in a Slumber. To any but a Love-&s;ick Maid, this had been no other than a melancholy Scene, and <HI>I</HI> mu&s;t own that even to my &s;elf it appear'd no le&s;s. But from that me|lancholy my plea&s;ure grew; Love in ab&s;ence is naturally dejected and langui&s;hing, and <HI>I</HI> firmly believe (at lea&s;t <HI>I</HI> think <HI>I</HI> felt it &s;o) that when we are alone, and &s;ad, the Fancy is &s;tronger than when our Rea&s;on drives our Pa&s;&s;ions from our Brea&s;ts, and hardens the Soul, which Love or Grief before had melted down and made pli|ant for any impre&s;&s;ions.</P>
<P>While thus <HI>I</HI> &s;tood and thought of <HI>Odmar</HI> and the coming Night, <HI>I</HI> could &s;ee, (tho' with &s;ome difficulty a Man on Hor&s;e-back). <HI>I</HI> waited im|patiently till he approach'd, (for tho&s;e who Love much hope ea&s;e from ev'ry thing) and at la&s;t knew him to be <HI>Dion</HI> and <HI>Odmar</HI>'s Servant. After <HI>I</HI> had askt concerning his Ma&s;ter's health, and told him that I'd awake &s;ome of the Ser|vants to let him in, <HI>I</HI> &s;tole gently down Stairs
<PB N="41" REF="26"> my &s;elf, and (changing my Voice to a &s;harper Key) de&s;ir'd to know if he had bu&s;ine&s;s with my Ma&s;ter? (meaning my Father) <HI>Riga</HI> (for 'twas he, and knew me not) an&s;wer'd no. He begg'd pardon for that di&s;turbance he gave the Family, and &s;aid, he had lo&s;t ye&s;terday &s;ome Papers of con&s;equence, and was &s;ure he had dropt them in our Hou&s;e, and to his be&s;t knowledge the la&s;t time he had them was in <HI>Daria</HI>'s Chamber, when he waited upon his Ma&s;ter. This encreas'd my hopes, and <HI>I</HI> firmly believ'd 'twas a Plot of <HI>Od|mar</HI>'s, and willing to be &s;peedily re&s;olv'd, <HI>I</HI> ask'd him (by way of a whi&s;per) if he had not a Letter for my young Mi&s;tre&s;s. No, (&s;aid he in a &s;eeming Pa&s;&s;ion) from whom &s;hould it come? Why (reply'd <HI>I)</HI> &s;he writ to <HI>Odmar</HI> ye&s;terday, and from him expected an An&s;wer. Did &s;he! (cry'd he) <HI>I</HI> know nothing of the matter, <HI>I</HI> came out early in &s;earch of my Paper, and am oblig'd by &s;even of the Clock to attend <HI>Dion,</HI> becau&s;e this Day he goes a Hunting with &s;ome of his Neighbours. But pray (added he in another tone) Sweet heart, if 'tis po&s;&s;ible let me into <HI>Daria</HI>'s Chamber, for there I'm per&s;waded <HI>I</HI> &s;hall find my Papers. <HI>I</HI> was vex'd, and knew not what to make of this Adventure. If my Father had &s;een me <HI>I</HI> had been undone. The fellow told me he had no Letter for me, yet wanted to be in my Room, and &s;poke the &s;tory of his Papers with &s;o much gravity and earne&s;tne&s;s, that <HI>I</HI> could hardly doubt the truth of what he &s;aid. Un|willing neverthele&s;s to betray my own weakne&s;s, <HI>I</HI> &s;till per&s;onated the Maid, and faintly told him that he might come &s;oftly up Stairs, and &s;tay at the Door till <HI>I</HI> had receiv'd her Orders. He fol|low'd,
<PB N="42" REF="27"> and when <HI>I</HI> enter'd my Chamber <HI>I</HI> was even &s;ick with grief, <HI>I</HI> wonder'd much that <HI>Odmar</HI> had not written to me, and thought, if he eager|ly had long'd to &s;ee me, he had &s;lipt no oppor|tunity of telling me &s;o, and of returning tho&s;e thanks my too obliging Letter well de&s;erv'd. However <HI>I</HI> was yet unwilling to condemn him, and to divert that pain the thoughts of his un|kindne&s;s brought me. <HI>I</HI> run immediately to the Door, where <HI>I</HI> had almo&s;t forgot the poor Servant; and Night being wholly fled, he could perceive by my morning Gown who it was then admit|ted him, and after a low Bow pre&s;ented me with a Letter from <HI>Odmar.</HI> I've lo&s;t no Papers, Ma|dam, (&s;aid he) but you &s;ee I've pre&s;um'd to bring one, and from a Man who would renounce a year of that term of life allotted him by De&s;tiny, to &s;ee you as &s;ecurely now as <HI>I</HI> do. <HI>Riga</HI>'s good con|duct and obliging Complement &s;o prevail'd up|on my fluttering gladed Heart, that <HI>I</HI> could not for my life delay that. Reward he de&s;erv'd till <HI>I</HI> opened the Letter. The faithful Servant thankt me for my bounty, de&s;ir'd me &s;peedily to read what he had brought me, and a&s;&s;ur'd me <HI>I</HI> &s;hould ever find him con&s;tant to his young Ma&s;ter's in|tere&s;t, tho' <HI>I</HI> had not ty'd him to it by my Li|berality. The words, Madam, If <HI>I</HI> remember well were the&s;e.</P>
<LETTER LANG="eng">
<OPENER><SALUTE>My Generous <HI>Daria,</HI></SALUTE></OPENER>
<P>I <HI>am Ble&s;t beyond my hopes, or what the mo&s;t ambitious e're could wi&s;h. Oh! every minute &s;hows a painful hour till</HI> that <HI>markt out for my hap|pine&s;s arrive. I'll &s;ee</HI> thee <HI>by Heaven, tho' all the</HI>
<PB N="43" REF="27"> <HI>Elements at once oppos'd me, let the gods be pa&s;&s;ive and nothing &s;hall &s;top my way. I'll for ever re|member</HI> Nine, <HI>for that hour my</HI> Daria <HI>cho&s;e to ble&s;s her</HI> Odmar, <HI>&s;hall for the future be &s;et apart for Love and Wine. Oppre&s;s me with heavy Cares all Day, I'll &s;hake off the burden when that lucky minute comes, remember the Happine&s;s it now brings me, and even while the Clock &s;trikes I'll doat upon the very &s;ound.</HI></P>
<CLOSER><SIGNED>Odmar.</SIGNED></CLOSER>
</LETTER>
<P><HI>I</HI> con&s;ider'd this Letter as the effect of his Love, and the very product of his real Thoughts, and knew by his &s;tile and freedom he had remembred 'twas in &s;afe Hands, and would be with &s;ecre&s;ie enough convey'd to mine. However, le&s;t the Servant's &s;tay &s;hould have render'd his Errand li|able to &s;u&s;picion <HI>I</HI> dur&s;t not write, and only bid him tell his Ma&s;ter. <HI>I was pleas'd with what he had &s;ent me, but could give no immediate return, unle&s;s he hazarded a di&s;apointment at Night, as undoubtedly 'twould come to pa&s;s, if I &s;hould be &s;u&s;|pected in the morning, of holding any corre&s;pon|dence with my kind</HI> Odmar. The Servant with|drew, and <HI>I</HI> could &s;ee him mount his Hor&s;e er'e any in the Family were awake.</P>
<P>You may wonder, Madam, when you con&s;i|der my re&s;erv'd way of living, and coldne&s;s of Temper, how <HI>I</HI> was then &s;o kind, and perhaps you may quarrel my fondne&s;s too, and that ex|pre&s;&s;ion <HI>my kind</HI> Odmar! But if your Grace con&s;ider my Years, and that my inclinations were Virtuous, methinks 'twill not appear &s;trange
<PB N="44" REF="28"> or faulty; for in hone&s;t exalted Love there can be no Crime, and what e're we &s;ay of obliging and tender, is certainly pardonable, if we do it as we ought, which in the fir&s;t place is to con&s;ider if we are truly belov'd, the merit and conduct of our Lovers, and mo&s;t of all to do it privately and with caution; for even Crimes them&s;elves (when we confe&s;s the truth) if done in &s;ecret, give not half that trouble to the mind, which publick Trifles bring. <HI>I</HI> read the Letter a thou&s;and times, and in that imployment con&s;um'd the te|dious Day. When the hour approach'd <HI>I</HI> felt tho&s;e little pains to which <HI>I</HI> had been a &s;tranger, or at lea&s;t had not before that time thought of; <HI>I</HI> fear'd that if the Youth came too &s;oon, my Fa|ther or &s;ome of the Servants might &s;ee him in the Fields, and if <HI>I</HI> &s;hould go to the Lodge before the hour prefix'd, <HI>I</HI> &s;hould be mi&s;t and &s;earch'd for. The&s;e thoughts made me very unea&s;ie. How|ever the danger <HI>I</HI> fear'd from the la&s;t Accident was the lea&s;t, and <HI>I</HI> ventur'd down into the Gar|den. <HI>I</HI> had no &s;ooner opened the Door, than I found my ha&s;ty Lover muffled in his Cloak. The kind Youth caught me in his Arms. <HI>Oh my</HI> Da|ria! (cry'd he) <HI>I'm lo&s;t in exta&s;ie! Pardon me if I cannot expre&s;s my thoughts, to Heav'n and you I owe &s;o much, that I mu&s;t &s;till confe&s;s my &s;elf a Bankrupt. O thou dear darling of my Soul, for|give me if I have no more this goodne&s;s to repay, but life and con&s;tant Love.</HI> He was &s;o welcome to my Brea&s;t, Madam, that <HI>I</HI> could &s;ay no more than, <HI>Oh my</HI> Odmar! What <HI>I</HI> wanted in words <HI>I</HI> &s;upply'd in looks, and <HI>I</HI> dare &s;ay the happy young Man was pleas'd with all he &s;aw.</P>
<PB N="45" REF="28">
<P> When we went into the Lodge <HI>I</HI> lockt the Door behind me; you &s;ee <HI>Odmar,</HI> (&s;aid <HI>I)</HI> how much <HI>I</HI> Love, and the good opinion <HI>I</HI> have of you. Madam, (reply'd he) that's a Comple|ment <HI>I</HI> know not how to an&s;wer; for I'm afraid you'd think me faulty, if <HI>I</HI> &s;aid your Honour were &s;ecure and you were &s;afe, becau&s;e to mention that were to call my nobler Love in que&s;tion. No <HI>Odmar,</HI> (&s;aid <HI>I) I</HI> would be very unhappy if <HI>I</HI> could in thought di&s;pute the innocence of your Love or Mine; but I'm &s;orry that when <HI>I</HI> &s;ee you, <HI>I</HI> mu&s;t be guilty of a breach of Promi&s;e. Ha, (cry'd he) is <HI>Ari&s;teon</HI> then &s;o much an Ene|my to my Love! It &s;eems he doubts not your Virtue but my Treachery. But <HI>Daria</HI> he's un|ju&s;t to me, for rather than wrong thee, I'd forfeit Life, E&s;tate, or any thing yet dearer, nay by Heav'n I'd rather bani&s;h all my hopes of being Belov'd, never &s;ee thee more, and be for ever damn'd to ab&s;ence from my greate&s;t Ble&s;&s;ing.&mdash;Yet <HI>Daria</HI> (for thou art all goodne&s;s) think of a way to redre&s;s this mighty ill, &s;ecure thy &s;elf, and ea&s;e thy Father of his fears, and if you Love, tye your &s;elf for ever mine. Oh my <HI>Daria!</HI> re|fu&s;e me not that Heav'n <HI>I</HI> ask, our Parents &s;oon will be reconcil'd, <HI>I</HI> &s;hall yet (if po&s;&s;ible) en|crea&s;e my &s;tock of Love, thou &s;halt be more fond, and all that &s;ee us &s;hall confe&s;s us truly happy.</P>
<P>Madam, <HI>I</HI> hope you will own 'twas hard for a young Maid, that lov'd well to keep a Medium 'twixt her Fears and Joys. His Fortune was in|finitely beyond mine, he knew his Father would be incens'd, and might perhaps from a kind Pa|rent become a cruel Enemy; all the World was &s;en&s;ible of his Merit, nor could he him&s;elf be ig|norant,
<PB N="46" REF="29"> that 'twas in his power to wed a greater Beauty and a larger fortune. When the&s;e thoughts fled, my &s;udden Cares took place, and <HI>I</HI> already &s;aw him unfortunate and for&s;aken by his Friends, 'cau&s;e he was ju&s;t to me. <HI>I</HI> &s;aw his frowns in poverty, and an hourly decay in his Love; and methought <HI>I</HI> already heard the poor chang'd <HI>Odmar</HI> whi&s;pering in my Ear, <HI>I had been great, had I but lov'd thee le&s;s.</HI> This la&s;t thought &s;topt the ha&s;ty flight of my fond new fledg'd Soul, and it was not in my power to give an an|&s;wer to what the Youth had &s;aid. My unu&s;ual &s;i|lence equally mov'd his wonder and his fear, when throwing him&s;elf at my feet, <HI>Daria</HI> (&s;aid he) why do you u&s;e me thus? Oh remember 'tis <HI>Odmar</HI> &s;peaks, 'tis the Man that Loves you, one that can ne're be happy without you, and thinks the Gods have not a gift to be&s;tow upon their fir&s;t Fav'rite a|mong&s;t Mortals, like that <HI>I</HI> ask of you. Who can re&s;i&s;t a kneeling Lover, Madam? I rais'd him in my Arms, and fondly, yet confus'dly told him, <HI>His Love and Honour made me wholly his, and I would be eternally rul'd by him. For now I gave my all into his hands.</HI> To tell you his Joy and the kind words he utter'd, were to renew the &s;en&s;e of my misfortunes. No man e're &s;aid more, no Woman e're believ'd more, or gave kinder yet more innocent returns, and no two Lovers e're confided more in one another, or were happier than we. When we had &s;aid all we could, we unwillingly were &s;ilent, and gaz'd upon one ano|ther, then began afre&s;h, prais'd, lov'd, doated, &s;igh'd and langui&s;h'd. This happy Scene had bani&s;h'd all my Cares, <HI>I</HI> found my <HI>Odmar</HI> Ju&s;t, and &s;ought no other Ble&s;&s;ing.</P>
<PB N="47" REF="29">
<P> At la&s;t my di&s;creet Lover kindly told me 'twas pa&s;t twelve, conjur'd me to forgive him, becau&s;e <HI>&s;lipery Time</HI> had run away when he had &s;een his thoughts imploy'd. <HI>I</HI> was heartily vex'd that <HI>I</HI> had manag'd &s;o ill; <HI>I</HI> &s;aw how inconvenient 'twas for <HI>Odmar</HI> to travel at an hour &s;o un&s;ea&s;o|nable, and yet knew my &s;elf nece&s;&s;arily oblig'd to leave him. In this di&s;order of thoughts I heard a noi&s;e in the Garden, and &s;tealing &s;oftly to the Window, <HI>I</HI> could di&s;cern my Father with one or two Servants, enquiring earne&s;tly of one another if they had yet &s;een me. <HI>I</HI> trembl'd when I heard my name pronounc'd, and my Lover was almo&s;t mad with grief becau&s;e he &s;aw me &s;o. At la&s;t they came to the Door, where they knock'd a|loud, and receiving no an&s;wer, concluded <HI>I</HI> was in &s;ome other place, either dangerou&s;ly ill with a &s;udden fit of &s;ickne&s;s, or by &s;ome other accident unknown. My Father, to be better &s;atisfied, commanded them to break open the Door, be|cau&s;e he &s;aid I might be there, yet fa&s;t a&s;leep. But the Servants a&s;&s;uring him that 'twas impo&s;&s;ible, con&s;idering the noi&s;e they had made; he was at la&s;t diverted from his re&s;olution. My Lover while this was acting, &s;tood with his Sword in his hand ready to receive him, &s;wore he had been once tamely robb'd of me, but wou'd be &s;o no more; that he wou'd not attempt <HI>Ari&s;teon</HI>'s Life, but would &s;ecure my Peace, and carry me off in &s;pite of all his followers; and <HI>I</HI> verily believe had my Father enter'd, <HI>I</HI> would have tru&s;ted to <HI>Od|mar</HI>'s genero&s;ity, and fled with him. As they went off, <HI>I</HI> heard <HI>Ari&s;teon</HI> cry, <HI>Oh Heavens! Re|&s;tore my Daughter, or take back that wretched Life you gave me.</HI> The&s;e words wounded my
<PB N="48" REF="30"> very Soul; and <HI>I</HI> had almo&s;t cry'd <HI>Your</HI> Daria <HI>is not lo&s;t.</HI> However &s;eeing his &s;earch was to no pur|po&s;e, he retir'd to his Hou&s;e, and there with my weeping Mother, waited the arrival of a new day.</P>
<P>In the mean time 'twas &s;o dark (and being na|turally tim'rous) <HI>I</HI> dur&s;t not go thorrow the Garden alone, nor could <HI>I</HI> take <HI>Odmar</HI> with me, le&s;t <HI>I</HI> had met <HI>Ari&s;teon</HI> or &s;ome of the Servants by the way. My Lover &s;aw my troubles, knew they were upon his account, and bore an equal &s;hare; I &s;tifled my grief as well as I could, that <HI>I</HI> might le&s;&s;en his, and with a calm brow ask'd him what was my be&s;t cour&s;e. <HI>I</HI> bid him at once con&s;ult my Honour and my &s;afety. And he, who never entertain'd a thought again&s;t either, &s;aid he would be advis'd by me. But if I rely'd upon his Opinion or Judgment, I &s;hould &s;tay in the Lodge all night, he'd &s;tay by me, and guard me while <HI>I</HI> &s;lept. In the morning he would retire as early as <HI>I</HI> pleas'd. And that <HI>I</HI> could hardly &s;atisfie <HI>Ari&s;teon</HI> concerning my Conduct, if <HI>I</HI> &s;hould go home at that hour of the Night. <HI>Odmar</HI>'s Voice was to me, Madam, no le&s;s than an Oracle, and <HI>I</HI> knew him &s;o good and ju&s;t, <HI>I</HI> &s;crupl'd not to grant him any thing he ask'd. My &s;ilence &s;hew'd <HI>I</HI> was re&s;olv'd to &s;tay; and the glad Youth &s;carce knew how to thank me for <HI>my</HI> goodne&s;s, and that opinion <HI>I</HI> had of <HI>his,</HI> and &s;wore he would not betray &s;o much innocence to gain the fir&s;t Beauty under Heaven, and the greate&s;t Empire on Earth: Having thus &s;pent an hour or two, <HI>Odmar</HI> begg'd I'd go to Bed (for there was always one in the Room in which my Father often lay) that &s;leep was nece&s;&s;ary for the pre&s;ervation of my
<PB N="49" REF="30"> Health, which was dearer to him than his own Life, and a&s;&s;ur'd me he would awake me e're the Sun aro&s;e. I was much concern'd at the Pro|po&s;ition, and with &s;ome pa&s;&s;ion ask'd him if he thought my Love had bani&s;h'd native mode&s;ty, or if he had advis'd me to &s;tay with a de&s;ign to attempt my Honour. The kind Youth fell up|on his Knees, and cla&s;ping mine, Swore by all the Gods he never meant me ill; <HI>Daria</HI>'s welfare and that of his Soul were equally his care, and if <HI>I</HI> deny'd him that a&s;&s;urance of my Love he begg'd, he would believe him&s;elf yet unhappy after all I had done for him. Why <HI>Daria,</HI> &s;aid he, is <HI>Odmar</HI> a Common Lover? Is he not thy Husband? Let me hope our Hearts are Joyn'd, and &s;ure a few trifling Ceremonies &s;erve not to confirm the tye before Heaven but our fellow Creatures, who&s;e unbounded Pa&s;&s;ions mu&s;t be li|mited and re&s;train'd by Laws. To the Virtuous and good no force is needful, and <HI>I</HI> &s;hall be ju&s;t to thee, as <HI>I</HI> would expect mercy from the powers in Heaven when my la&s;t hour approaches.&mdash;O! Madam, 'tis needle&s;s to &s;ay any more, <HI>I</HI> Lov'd even to di&s;traction, nor did he merit le&s;s. <HI>I</HI> yielded, and hid my blu&s;hes in his Brea&s;t; he was ble&s;t, nor could <HI>I</HI> think my &s;elf unhappy. That &s;leep he had at fir&s;t propos'd was to both deny'd, nay was not wi&s;h'd or look'd for; we con&s;um'd the hours in each others Arms, and <HI>Jove</HI> &s;at wi&s;h|ing, when he view'd our Joys.</P>
<P>When the unfortunate Sun appear'd, and lovely <HI>Odmar</HI> ro&s;e, what agonies did my poor Soul know! He embrac'd me tenderly, but without one kind word leapt from the di&s;order'd Bed. <HI>I</HI> already fear'd <HI>I</HI> had &s;hown too much of
<PB N="50" REF="31"> fondne&s;s, and that the Joys of that Night had cloy'd the appetite of his ea&s;ie Soul. When he was dre&s;s'd, he came again to the Bed's &s;ide, took me in his Arms, &s;igh'd, and ask'd me when he &s;hould be ble&s;s'd again? With Tears in my eyes I told him <HI>I was his, and that now my happine&s;s depended upon his plea&s;ure. To morrow's night then</HI> (&s;aid he) <HI>let me find my</HI> Daria <HI>here, doubt not my Love or honour;</HI> ki&s;s'd me again, and &s;o quit the Room. Oh! Madam, if you knew tho&s;e cares oppre&s;s'd me when he was gone. <HI>I</HI> remembred how elo|quent he had been before I yielded, and now &s;aw he had not one kind word to &s;pare. His &s;ighs encreas'd my fears, and <HI>I</HI> had nothing to comfort me in this new affliction, but that la&s;t ki&s;s he gave me, which, notwith&s;tanding of his &s;ilence, me|thought did yet expre&s;s a con&s;tant tender flame.</P>
<P>When <HI>I</HI> opened the Door, <HI>I</HI> trac'd his foot|&s;teps on the Dew, and almo&s;t &s;unk with the fre&s;h remembrance of what had pa&s;t. Go (&s;aid <HI>I) Odmar</HI> go, and if thou art not &s;o Honoura|ble as <HI>I</HI> have judg'd thee, <HI>I</HI> know how to be re|veng'd; my Death &s;hall attone for my guilt, and thou &s;halt mourn the lo&s;s of her that lov'd thee. As <HI>I</HI> &s;poke, <HI>I</HI> ca&s;t my Eyes that way the Youth had gone, and &s;aw my Father coming. <HI>I</HI> trembl'd &s;o much as he approach'd, that my fears indeed were enough to betray the &s;ecret. Ha! <HI>Daria</HI> (cry'd he) is this the reward of a Father's care? Have <HI>I</HI> lov'd you to be the more ea&s;ily betray'd by you, and is your Virtue and Honour fled beyond Redemption! my pa&s;&s;ion is not ma&s;ter of my Judgment, and I forbear to u&s;e you as I ought to do, tho' I've trac'd <HI>Odmar,</HI> and
<PB N="51" REF="31"> &s;aw him on the other &s;ide of the River. But take this for my po&s;itive re&s;olution, never &s;ee me more; &s;ince you obey'd not the in&s;truction of a kind Fa|ther, <HI>I</HI> &s;hall, nay <HI>I</HI> have forgot that ever I had a Daughter. I had &s;pent the night in plea&s;ure, and the morning in Tears, &s;o that I had not time to feign a &s;tory to divert his Anger. I threw my &s;elf therefore at his feet, and &s;unk with grief, could hardly bid him think <HI>I yet was Virtuous.</HI> Yes, yes, <HI>Daria</HI> (reply'd he) you are Virtuous! I can read in your Eyes no &s;igns of la&s;t nights Revels! But come (continued he, and taking me by the hand) let's &s;ee the Scene where the di&s;ho|nour of my Hou&s;e was acted. When he came to the Bed, Oh, Madam, I blu&s;h to tell, that the marks of Virgin Loves confe&s;s'd that weak|ne&s;s which I &s;trove to hide. My Father was Thunder-&s;truck with what he &s;aw, and running out of the Room, I could hear him at &s;ome di|&s;tance cry, <HI>Oh my lo&s;t</HI> Daria! I'm &s;ure, Madam, you will confe&s;s 'tis impo&s;&s;ible to paint that grief I then felt; I fell into a &s;woon upon the Bed, and there lay &s;ome hours e're I recover'd my &s;en&s;es. When my Judgment return'd, I felt a new return of all my pains too, I was ready to end all my griefs by one dire Blow, and I'm firm|ly per&s;waded, if any in&s;trument of Death had been nigh, I had not now liv'd to mourn the lo&s;s of <HI>Odmar.</HI> However amid&s;t all my &s;orrows I remembred that Appointment he had made the &s;ucceeding night, and tho' I doubted much his Con&s;tancy, I re&s;olv'd to wait the event. Till <HI>that</HI> time &s;hould come I knew not whither to betake my &s;elf, I could not fly to a Friend's Hou&s;e, be|cau&s;e then my &s;hame would be notorious, and
<PB N="52" REF="32"> dur&s;t not venture to &s;how my &s;elf at home, when <HI>Ari&s;teon</HI> had &s;worn he ne're would own me; e're I could come to a re&s;olution, my afflicted Mo|ther enter'd the Lodge. Well <HI>Daria,</HI> (&s;aid &s;he) I come not to reproach you with a Crime that cannot now be mended, but to tell you that no Arguments can yet reconcile you to your Father. He denies your admittance to his Hou&s;e. This indi&s;creet way of Loving, has &s;own that reproach upon our Family, (for can you think <HI>Odmar</HI> will wed a Fortune &s;o mean as yours!) which no time &s;hall be able to Root out. In a word, <HI>A|ri&s;teon</HI> is mad with Grief, and you may gue&s;s at mine. However, come along with me, and &s;tay in your Chamber without his knowledge, for my Tears may yet per&s;wade him to forgive this fault of Love and Youth. I was not able to give any an&s;wer to this tenderne&s;s of <HI>Julietta's,</HI> my grief was vi&s;ible in my Face, and &s;ufficiently pleaded my excu&s;e. I obey'd then, and when I was left alone in my Room, in a few minutes my condition was the &s;ame it had been a little be|fore my Mother had come to me; and when the troubles of my mind again allow'd me the u&s;e of my &s;en&s;es, I read my <HI>Odmar</HI>'s Letters a thou&s;and times, but found not half that plea&s;ure in 'em I had known before. At Night <HI>Julietta</HI> came again to &s;ee me, told me my Father's &s;orrow was nothing yet abated, and that he was re&s;olv'd not lo&s;e <HI>Dion</HI>'s Friend&s;hip, bid me make u&s;e of my Rea&s;on, and &s;hun immoderate Grief, and &s;o left me to my &s;elf. I &s;pent the Night without &s;leep, and the next Morning yet encreas'd my fears, for now the hour approach'd, in which I was a|gain to &s;ee my <HI>Odmar,</HI> from whom alone I hop'd
<PB N="53" REF="32"> and wi&s;h'd relief. To be &s;hort, Madam, Night at la&s;t arriv'd, but not my Lover. How I long'd and waited for him in that Lodge, where I had been once &s;o happy, no Tongue can utter; I &s;taid there all Night, and, tho' in the dark and alone, void of my wonted fears, and only wept my own folly, and the young Man's unkind ab|&s;ence.</P>
<P>In the Morning I found a Paper lying upon the Bed, I knew it to be <HI>Odmar</HI>'s, and wonder'd that my Father had not &s;een it the other Day. You mu&s;t know, Madam, (for &s;o I under&s;tood afterwards) 'twas written by a Friend of his, to whom I have &s;ince that time been much indebted. Having opened it with impatiency, I found the&s;e words.</P>
<LG>
<L><HI>Accurs'd be tho&s;e who Marriage vows began,</HI></L>
<L><HI>'Twas a meer trick to bubble ea&s;ie Man.</HI></L>
<L><HI>An holy Cheat, a promis'd Heaven ne're found,</HI></L>
<L><HI>Cozens the Traveller like enchanted Ground.</HI></L>
<L><HI>Which when he &s;eeks to tread he ne're can find,</HI></L>
<L><HI>Flies quick away, and leaves no marks behind.</HI></L>
<L><HI>Some doating Coxcomb may with plea&s;ure Wed,</HI></L>
<L><HI>And with &s;ome lovely Female &s;hare his Bed;</HI></L>
<L><HI>Who'll &s;igh and cla&s;p him in her treacherous Arms,</HI></L>
<L><HI>And feed his Letchery with a thou&s;and Charms;</HI></L>
<L><HI>Weep when he's &s;ick, and feign a real Grief,</HI></L>
<L><HI>Offer her Blood, nay Soul for his relief.</HI></L>
<L><HI>The blind old A&s;s believes, and mourning lyes,</HI></L>
<L><HI>Views the dear Jilt, with &s;orrow in his Eyes,</HI></L>
<L><HI>Gives her a Joynture and a Cully dies;</HI></L>
<L><HI>While &s;he (poor thing) to ea&s;e her anxious Brea&s;t,</HI></L>
<L><HI>E're he's half cold admits an abler Gue&s;t.</HI></L>
<PB N="54" REF="33">
<L> <HI>His brawny Foot-man's Ma&s;ter of the Spoil,</HI></L>
<L><HI>And &s;wims in Gold he gains with midnight Toil.</HI></L>
<L><HI>The</HI> Roman <HI>Knight by all was prais'd, when he</HI></L>
<L><HI>De&s;pis'd a Gulph to let his Country &s;ee</HI></L>
<L><HI>He'd plunge him&s;elf to &s;et his Neighbours free.</HI></L>
<L><HI>To me no Love like that &s;hall e're be known,</HI></L>
<L><HI>I'll know no other Intere&s;t but my own.</HI></L>
<L><HI>Fond Maids may think I'll Wed, but I'll enjoy,</HI></L>
<L><HI>Promi&s;e and ne're perform, &s;ince for a Toy</HI></L>
<L><HI>None but a Fool would's Liberty de&s;troy.</HI></L>
<L><HI>When Heav'n would puni&s;h Sins and anger &s;how;</HI></L>
<L><HI>It joyns two Beggars, and it leaves them &s;o.</HI></L>
<L><HI>Each crys for help, which neither can afford,</HI></L>
<L><HI>This blames his Wife, and that her needy Lord,</HI></L>
<L><HI>While Sir Loyn &s;hunning noi&s;e for&s;akes the board.</HI></L>
<L><HI>Some yielding Nymph&mdash;</HI></L>
</LG>
<P>You &s;ee by this broken line, Madam, the piece was not perfected, however, there was enough to move my grief and wonder; <HI>I</HI> was now fully per&s;waded <HI>Odmar</HI> was unju&s;t, and even when <HI>I</HI> believ'd him &s;o, wonder'd that a Man, who look'd &s;o like a god, could in his Nature be the wor&s;t of Villains. <HI>I</HI> knew he was a Poet for his own plea&s;ure, and found by what <HI>I</HI> had read, he had &s;poke his Sentiments, not half his Art or Wit. <HI>I</HI> &s;aw my Fortune painted in each line, and now (tho' ne're before) <HI>I</HI> wi&s;h'd <HI>I</HI> had not &s;een him. <HI>I</HI> found my ruine ineyitable, for &s;ince <HI>Odmar</HI> was unkind, <HI>I</HI> had no more to lo&s;e. <HI>I</HI> had too convincing a proof of my ill Fortune, when <HI>I</HI> con&s;ider'd he had written to me in the Morning, when he was to &s;ee me that Night, and could not rea&s;onably have expected a Letter from him; and that now when he had giv'n me
<PB N="55" REF="33"> the di&s;apointment, he had not been at the pains to excu&s;e him&s;elf, or &s;ay that yet he lov'd me.</P>
<P>This, Madam, is a tedious way of telling the &s;tory of my Love. But <HI>I</HI> can do no le&s;s than ac|quaint you with my Griefs, becau&s;e the remem|brance of the&s;e things fill my Soul, and yet de|ny a room to any other thought. To be &s;hort then as po&s;&s;ibly <HI>I</HI> can, <HI>I</HI> re&s;olv'd &s;peedily to aban|don the World, and retire to a Nunnery a few Miles di&s;tant from <HI>Odmar</HI>'s Hou&s;e. <HI>I</HI> had two young Cou&s;ins there, whom Love had made Reli|gious, and <HI>I</HI> re&s;olv'd to &s;pend my Days like them. <HI>I</HI> went privately to my Chamber, and took from thence every thing of Value and of little Bulk, read my Lover's kind Letters, and afterwards burnt them; with my Eyes took a long farewel of every thing in the Hou&s;e, and, drown'd in Tears, <HI>I</HI> left it.</P>
<P><HI>I</HI> had not walk'd far, when my Grief and Trou|ble made me know, <HI>I</HI> was too weak for a Jour|ney of five long Miles on Foot. Half faint be|neath a &s;hady Tree <HI>I</HI> lay, and view'd the watch|ful Shepherds driving out their Flocks, and wan|toning ev'n in Rags. <HI>I</HI> compar'd their happine&s;s with mine, and often wi&s;h'd <HI>I</HI> had been born like them, to moderate Wants, or to an humbler Fortune, ble&s;s'd with Peace and Innocence. <HI>I</HI> mourn'd all my Misfortunes at once, but mo&s;t of all <HI>I</HI> griev'd the lo&s;s of <HI>Odmar</HI>'s Letters; for <HI>I</HI> found even then when <HI>I</HI> &s;uffer'd &s;o much for him, 'twas not in my Power to hate him.</P>
<P>While thus <HI>I</HI> lay, <HI>I</HI> could &s;ee at &s;ome di&s;tance two Men on Hor&s;e back; 'twas yet &s;o ve|ry early in the Morning, <HI>I</HI> could hardly think them le&s;s than Robbers. My fears &s;ugge&s;ted a
<PB N="56" REF="34"> thou&s;and things to me, <HI>I</HI> remembred <HI>I</HI> was a Woman helple&s;s and alone; and yet, Madam, by that great Power <HI>I</HI> &s;wear that gave me fir&s;t a Being, <HI>I</HI> wi&s;h'd them Murderers, Ravi&s;hers, or any thing that was Cruel. Life was become a perfect burden to me, and <HI>I</HI> was re&s;olv'd &s;ome way or other to be reliev'd from the weight. As they approach'd, <HI>I</HI> &s;tep'd into the Road, and ex|pos'd, as if <HI>I</HI> had done it by Chance, any thing of value about me to tempt the vicious Wretches, then by re&s;i&s;tance prompt them on to fury. This conduct <HI>I</HI> confe&s;s was a greater Crime than any <HI>I</HI> had yet committed, but your Grace will con|&s;ider that <HI>De&s;pair</HI> has no acquaintance with <HI>Rea|&s;on,</HI> and <HI>I</HI> did it with a &s;etled de&s;ign to advance my ruin. When they came clo&s;e up to me, Oh Heavens! what art can expre&s;s my &s;urpri&s;e, for <HI>I</HI> had almo&s;t fainted with exce&s;s of Joy! In the depth of my mi&s;ery, and &s;unk beneath my &s;elf, my kind, ju&s;t <HI>Odmar</HI> came to rai&s;e me up. Oh <HI>Daria!</HI> (cry'd he, alighting from his Hor&s;e) Whither art thou going? Why do <HI>I</HI> read in thy Face &s;o many &s;igns of pa&s;t grief? Did you &s;u&s;|pect me? Oh! by Heavens! I'm mad with Joy! For whate're has brought thy Tears, <HI>I</HI> find thy Sorrows to thy Beauties add. When <HI>I</HI> could &s;peak, Oh <HI>Odmar!</HI> (&s;aid I) do I owe this hap|pine&s;s to Chance or You? No, (reply'd he &s;ud|denly) to your &s;elf only, if you had been le&s;s Fair, or le&s;s Kind, I had been le&s;s Con&s;tant; and now I know you Love me, we &s;hall both be hap|py. But I have nothing, my Dear, (continued he) to repay that Joy you give me, a heart ex|cepted, which Heaven de&s;ign'd but for it &s;elf and you; for I have acquainted <HI>Dion</HI> with my
<PB N="57" REF="34"> Love, but he (tho' otherwi&s;e kind) is inexorable, and &s;wears if I per&s;i&s;t he ne're &s;hall &s;ee me more. The hopes neverthele&s;s of obtaining his con&s;ent kept me from my <HI>Daria</HI> ye&s;terday, but could not do &s;o to day. Ah! <HI>Odmar,</HI> (cry'd I) <HI>The gods were pa&s;&s;ive,</HI> and you might have come. But I am ruin'd, my Father has bani&s;h'd me from his Hou&s;e, and our &s;toln happine&s;s is&mdash;No, (&s;aid he, interrupting me, and with all the tenderne&s;s ima|ginable) if my Love can repay the lo&s;s of <HI>A|ri&s;teon</HI>'s &s;miles, my <HI>Daria</HI> is not ruin'd. <HI>Here</HI> (continued he, and turning to his Friend) <HI>this is my Wife;</HI> You can confirm our Vows already made, and as you tender my Life obey. To be brief, Madam, <HI>Odmar</HI> was &s;ingular in his Love and Virtues. We were that day marry'd, (for his Friend was a Prie&s;t, whom the kind Youth had brought on purpo&s;e) ble&s;s'd with &s;afe po&s;&s;e&s;&s;ion, and both Exiles, cau&s;e we lov'd too well.</P>
<P>We retir'd to a Gentleman's Hou&s;e, who was <HI>Odmar</HI>'s Relation and mine too. He writ often to his Father, but the old Man was deaf to all entreaties. Mine would not lo&s;e <HI>Dion</HI>'s Friend|&s;hip, tho' he pardon'd me in his Heart; and my Mother alone was kind to us both, and &s;ent me frequent Letters in return of mine. We went &s;eldom abroad, we were welcome to our kind Friend, we lov'd more pa&s;&s;ionately than ever, and &s;carce one Night pa&s;t without a recital of our fir&s;t night's Joys, our mutual Fears that fol|low'd, his longings, my Pains, and tho&s;e thoughts we entertain'd for one another, when fir&s;t old <HI>Dion</HI> langui&s;h'd in our Hou&s;e. Thus, Madam, we liv'd two Years, and I can confidently affirm, that to the la&s;t hour we had tho&s;e little Cares to
<PB N="58" REF="35"> plea&s;e, true Love, and con&s;tant fondne&s;s for each other, we knew that Night I yielded in the Lodge. At la&s;t this happy Scene vani&s;h'd, and tho' the &s;tory grates my Soul, and awakes my &s;lumbering Griefs, yet, Madam, for your &s;atis|faction take it thus.</P>
<P>Our King (the good <HI>Othredus)</HI> unfortunate in his Councils, tho' of him&s;elf Ju&s;t and Merciful even to a fault, was at la&s;t by Knaves betray'd, and by his Friends abandon'd. In this extremity he fled, and (&s;eeking protection from his neigh|bouring Monarch) left the Government to the management of others. <HI>Scarronida</HI> was &s;o fond of their new Government, that he was judg'd a Tray|tor to his Country, who enterrain'd but favourable thoughts for his native injur'd Lord. The Ea&s;tern part of the Nation, neverthele&s;s betook them&s;elves to Arms, and tho' they were but a handful of Men, (the number of their Enemies con&s;ider'd) boldly kept the Field, and bid Defi|ance to the new crown'd Head. <HI>Dion</HI> was one in this Loyal Army, and finding he was incapa|ble of enduring tho&s;e fatigues inherent to his Po&s;t, he &s;ent at la&s;t for <HI>Odmar.</HI> My Father fought as he did, and whether or not he per&s;waded the old Man to rea&s;&s;ume his good Nature upon this occa&s;ion, I cannot po&s;itively affirm. My kind Husband &s;how'd me the Letter he had receiv'd, and ask'd my advice concerning that An&s;wer he de&s;ign'd, when at the &s;ame time he knew I had that re&s;pect for his Judgment, which fond little Children bear to that of a tender Mother. In a word, tho' the old Man had freely pardon'd him, yet he would not obey, till fir&s;t he had &s;ecur'd his
<PB N="59" REF="35"> <HI>Daria,</HI> and therefore let him know, that tho' he was kind, yet his Son was &s;till unfortunate, unle&s;s he were doubly &s;o to me; and, as a mark of his unfeign'd Reconciliation, &s;ettl'd one half of his E&s;tate upon me, if 'twere my Fortune to &s;urvive &s;o good a Husband. <HI>Dion</HI> readily agreed to this, and a&s;&s;ur'd him he de&s;erv'd more than he had to be&s;tow upon him, &s;ince his con|&s;tancy to me &s;ufficiently excus'd his primitive di&s;|obedience upon the &s;core of Love. I firmly be|lieve our ho&s;pitable Friend <HI>Tameran,</HI> (for that was his Name) alone griev'd our better Fortune. He was an old Batchelor and an hater of Women, and the Author of tho&s;e lines which <HI>Odmar</HI> had Copied, and by chance drop'd in the Lodge, yet he confe&s;s'd that in &s;pite of his humour he found a certain plea&s;ure, when he &s;aw our mutual fond|ne&s;s, and happy way of living, and often &s;wore if he could find a Woman like me, and him&s;elf could Love like <HI>Odmar,</HI> he'd be no more an Enemy to Marriage. When we came to <HI>Dion</HI>'s Hou&s;e, we were receiv'd with all that re&s;pect and a&s;&s;urances of his affection we could de&s;ire, and <HI>Ari&s;teon</HI> wept for Joy to &s;ee his Daughter ble&s;s'd</P>
<P>'Twas ne're my chance to be every way Hap|py, and <HI>Odmar</HI>'s ab&s;ence le&s;&s;en'd or quite remov'd the &s;en&s;e of my pre&s;ent Fortune. The Loyal Army lay but a few Miles from <HI>Dion</HI>'s Hou&s;e, &s;o that I heard from him every Day, and by the gods I &s;wear, Madam, I read the Letters with the &s;ame Joy, I knew when faithful <HI>Riga</HI> gave me that one I mention'd under a pretence of &s;eeking Papers which he ne're had lo&s;t. Heaven ne're &s;aw two &s;uch Lovers, and when the new
<PB N="60" REF="36"> King's Army came into the bo&s;om of our Coun|try, I felt a thou&s;and deadly Fears for the con|&s;tant &s;harer of my Joys.</P>
<P>In a few Days they came to a pitch'd Battle, where the General of the old King's Forces lo&s;t his Life, tho' he gain'd the Victory. He con|quer'd, and Death o'recame the Conquerour: <HI>Odmar</HI> flew to my Arms, the danger once I fear'd was now pa&s;t, and &s;ecurity made us doub|ly ble&s;s'd. He &s;tay'd a Month, which as an hour appear'd, and the new King having mu&s;ter'd new Troops, he left me to &s;eek new Hazards: The Armies again met, but Fortune had fled with the General, and we (if I may properly &s;ay I was on <HI>Odmar</HI>'s &s;ide) lo&s;t the Day, and all that Honour we had gain'd before. My Hus|band however was &s;afe, and I askt no more; our remaining Troops were by degrees cut off, and in a &s;hort time no Man appear'd in Arms but <HI>Dion</HI> and his Followers. Unable to keep the Field he retir'd to a little Town, which yet own'd no power &s;uperior to his own. This he forti|fied and &s;tor'd with Provi&s;ions, &s;uch as the har|ra&s;s'd Country could afford. In the mean time the &s;ucce&s;sful Monarch, wearied with the Civil War, and willing to &s;ecure with &s;eeming mercy what with Blood he had purchas'd, offer'd to e|very Man that would lay down his Arms the be|nefit of a Kariph, with you call an Act of In|dempnity. <HI>Dion,</HI> who wi&s;ely &s;aw he could be no longer &s;erviceable to his Prince by an ob&s;tinate re&s;i&s;tance, laid hold of this opportunity, and made his Peace with Honour. In &s;hort, our Gates were open'd, we rely'd upon the Con|querour's Promi&s;e, admitted his Troops, and made
<PB N="61" REF="36">
'em bo&s;om Friends. Now it was, I thought my &s;elf beyond the reach of Fortune's frowns, and al|mo&s;t elevated above the power of Fate. <HI>Dion</HI> and <HI>Ari&s;teon</HI> found them&s;elves ble&s;s'd beyond what e're they hop'd, and never &s;aw us without Joy and Wonder. Oh Heav'ns! how innocent|ly we liv'd, and lov'd as when fir&s;t we &s;wore we did &s;o. Poor <HI>Odmar</HI> thought of nothing but his <HI>Daria,</HI> and I never dreamt of any thing but him. We de&s;cry'd new Beauties in one another every Day, long'd and wi&s;h'd like Bride and Bridgroom, gaz'd, embrac'd, and knew no pains, but when in each others Arms we &s;igh'd and fear'd we had not lov'd alike.&mdash;Now, Ma|dam, pardon my Tears, for when I have told you all, you'll own my griefs are ju&s;t.</P>
<P>One Night as awake I lay, I heard my <HI>Od|mar</HI> groaning in his Sleep. 'Twas the fir&s;t time he ever had done &s;o, and I was much amaz'd; but more, when &s;uddenly rai&s;ing him&s;elf up, he cry'd, <HI>Oh &s;pare my</HI> Daria<HI>'s, and I'll give you mine.</HI> Ha my Dear! (cry'd I) Whither does your fancy wander? Why thus afear'd when there's no dan|ger nigh. The kind Youth rouz'd from his Sleep, caught me in his Arms, ki&s;s'd me with tran&s;port, &s;igh'd, and would have &s;lept again, had not I pre&s;s'd his hand in mine, and conjur'd him to tell me why he had pronounc'd my Name. Ah! <HI>Daria,</HI> (&s;aid he) I can yet hardly think I have thee in my Arms, &s;o much I fear'd thee lo&s;t. I dreamt (and oh methinks 'twas a very lively dream) that <HI>Tameran</HI> our kind Friend, who entertain'd us when unfortunate, pull'd a|&s;ide the Curtain, and with looks that &s;poke him fill'd with dire revenge, threatned thy life and
<PB N="62" REF="37"> mine, for Crimes he fear'd that I had done, but meant not to reveal. You take me for a Friend, (&s;aid he) but you &s;hall find a Foe, where lea&s;t you dreamt of one; I tru&s;t not the Man who once offends, for tho' he begs my pardon afterwards, yet I con&s;ider that as the effect of my power and his nece&s;&s;ity, not Love or real Friend&s;hip. This &s;aid, methought he &s;truck his Dagger to my Heart, and &s;wore you too &s;hould bleed. 'Twas that my Dear, (continued he) which broke the Chain of Sleep, and &s;et my Tongue at liberty. When <HI>Odmar</HI> &s;poke, I felt the &s;ame pain as if it had not been a dream; but that which &s;unk me mo&s;t, was that this &s;ame Night I had &s;een old <HI>Di|on</HI> expiring on his Bed, and gha&s;tly in his Wounds. To encrea&s;e my fears, my Windows &s;tood all open, and between me and the Skies I &s;aw the Heads and Limbs of murder'd Friends, heard the &s;hrieks of tortur'd Souls that wander'd in the Air, and howling Gho&s;ts to &s;nowy &s;hrowds confin'd. I &s;hrunk, and gra&s;pt my <HI>Odmar</HI> in my Arms, and e're I &s;poke I'd view the Scene again; but as I was about to tell my fears to my Dear kind Youth, I heard a dreadful noi&s;e upon the Stairs. The Chamber-door was immediately forc'd open, and Ruffians mask'd in Armour &s;traight ru&s;h'd in: My fears would not let me cry. But the more daring <HI>Odmar</HI> leapt from the Bed, and with his Sword receiv'd them. Oh Heavens! this god|like Man did all a mortal could, but cover'd o're with Wounds at la&s;t he fell. <HI>Oh ba&s;e Vil|lains! Oh</HI> Daria! Daria! he cry'd, and in that moment dy'd. The &s;en&s;ele&s;s Clay their utmo&s;t &s;ury felt, and they &s;tab'd <HI>Odmar,</HI> after <HI>Odmar</HI> fled. I &s;aw't, Madam, (and oh that I liv'd to
<PB N="63" REF="37"> &s;ee &s;o much) yet found that 'twas not in my power to &s;peak, for my Soul (affrighted with the horrid &s;ight) retir'd and left me de&s;titute of &s;en&s;e. This alone &s;av'd my Life, for the cruel murderers when they &s;aw me motionle&s;s on the Floor, and drench'd in my Husband's Blood, believ'd me dead, e're they for&s;ook the Room. When I recover'd my Soul half fled, I knew not what to think, I was in a perfect frenzy, and would have thought all a Dream &s;till, if I had not found the wounded Body by me, nay even then I &s;carce could think my &s;elf awake; for when I examin'd my life pa&s;t, in all my &s;earch I &s;aw not one ma&s;&s;y Sin that could have pull'd this cru|el &s;troak from Heaven, nor could I think that the ju&s;t gods had us'd me &s;o, when I had &s;tudied never to offend. The bloody Executioners had carry'd their dark Lanthorns with them, and I, to be convinc'd of my own unhappine&s;s, (undre&s;t as I was) run into the other Room to tell old <HI>Dion</HI> that his Son was lo&s;t, and <HI>Daria</HI> ju&s;t grown Mad; for, Madam, I mu&s;t confe&s;s I really was &s;o. Oh! what words or art can paint my pains, and the horrours of that Night! The Father was murder'd e're the Son was cold, and <HI>Ari&s;teon</HI> &s;har'd in <HI>Odmar</HI>'s fate, he and my Mother were both butcher'd; and (if &s;o Heav'n had pleas'd) would <HI>Daria</HI> too had dy'd, for not one of <HI>Dion</HI>'s Relations e&s;cap'd but my &s;elf. You may won|der, Madam, that e're a Man was found to Ex|ecute &s;o barbarous a Commi&s;&s;ion, for you mu&s;t know (tho' 'tis very &s;trange) the new State&s;men fearing, that (if the exil'd Prince &s;hould at any time attempt the recovery of his own) <HI>Dion</HI> would prove a dangerous Subject, they thought it
<PB N="64" REF="38"> &s;itting by this cruel method to prevent that ill they fear'd. My ju&s;t griefs robb'd me of the u&s;e of my Rea&s;on, and 'twas my Fortune not to feel the weight of my own unhappy Fate, (for oh, Madam, I had lo&s;t the be&s;t of Men) but du|ring the time of my &s;hort intervals. A neighbou|ring old Gentlewoman of <HI>Julietta</HI>'s acquaintance took a particular care of me, and after fifteen long Months I was again my &s;elf. But tho' ble&s;s'd with my Rea&s;on, I was &s;till oppre&s;s'd with Grief, and therefore without acquainting any bo|dy, (nay my benefactor her &s;elf was kept a &s;tranger to it) I quit the Scene where all my ills were acted, and came in Tears to <HI>Armenis.</HI> My Fortune preferr'd me to your Graces e&s;teem, to whom I confe&s;s I am more indebted than all my coming &s;ervices can e're repay. I've told you a &s;tory I have long conceal'd, and, Madam, you may believe the Widdow of <HI>Odmar</HI> would not &s;o far betray her Honour, as to conceal any part of the truth, or add any thing that was not &s;o.</P>
<P>Here, my <HI>Albi&s;inda,</HI> the lovely unfortunate <HI>Daria</HI> ended her Story, and the tender hearted Dutche&s;s wept for <HI>Odmar</HI>'s death, begg'd her pardon if &s;he had not us'd her conform to her Quality and Merit, and a&s;&s;ur'd her, that for the future &s;he would make it her Study to teach her to forget her Misfortunes. <HI>Eriphile</HI> was always good, and &s;he was at this time &s;o much concern'd for the death of &s;o kind a Man, that &s;he told <HI>Daria</HI> &s;he could dwell eternally upon the Story, and there &s;ettle her thoughts, if the &s;ad remem|brance and frequent repetition did not renew the Tears of one who had &s;o ju&s;t cau&s;e to Mourn:
<PB N="65" REF="38"> As &s;he &s;poke <HI>Erinthus</HI> enter'd. The Dutche&s;s re|ceiv'd the fortunate Youth with all the tender|ne&s;s of a conquer'd Beauty, told him the Duke was gone to Court, and kind Love had allotted the few minutes of his ab&s;ence for the happine&s;s of both. Poor <HI>Daria</HI> blu&s;h'd and withdrew, and the Lovers, now left to them&s;elves, let loo&s;e their wi&s;hes, and &s;urfeited in plea&s;ure. But as they lay in each others Arms, their Souls upon the Wing, and fear'd, by coveting too fa&s;t, de&s;ire &s;hould be lo&s;t, the injur'd Duke arriv'd; pardon me, <HI>Al|bi&s;inda,</HI> if I omit not the particulars of this Ad|venture. Their mutual Joys had bani&s;h'd u&s;ual Fears, and he knock'd at the Chamber-door e're they had thought him nigh. <HI>Erinthus</HI> nimbly &s;tarted from the Bed, and &s;en&s;ible of his own danger, and the Crime he had committed, half dre&s;t, leapt from the Chamber-Window into the Garden, and with the hazard of his Neck made his e&s;cape. <HI>Entheon</HI> &s;aw him, and, in a height of &s;udden pa&s;&s;ion, fir'd a Pi&s;tol after him, but with|out the wi&s;h'd &s;ucce&s;s. 'Tis ea&s;ie to gue&s;s in what a po&s;ture he found the lovely Dutche&s;s, half dead with fear, and unable to hide, what even to <HI>Enthe|on</HI> &s;he &s;hould have ne're expos'd tho' in her &s;tate of Innocence: Be&s;ides, to evince her guilt, and that &s;he had been actually happy in anothers Arms, the lucky Youth when from the Bed he leapt, had left the u&s;ual Marks of Love behind him. This indeed, the Duke had not the misfor|tune to &s;ee, for one of the Maids, who was privy to the Amour, enter'd the Chamber with him, and hid the ba&s;e remains of interrupted Love.</P>
<PB N="66" REF="39">
<P> <HI>Eriphile</HI> at once blu&s;h'd and wept, &s;he &s;aw 'twas impo&s;&s;ible to deny what had pa&s;t between her and <HI>Erinthus,</HI> and did not &s;o much as offer to extenuate the Crime. <HI>Entheon</HI> knew his Ho|nour betray'd, his con&s;tant Love repay'd with Treachery, and griev'd that e're he went to <HI>Ci|&s;ala</HI>'s Hou&s;e. Then again remembring her Blu&s;hes, when fir&s;t he &s;aw her in the Garden, her Love which at that time was real, and all tho&s;e tender words &s;he utter'd in his Arms, &s;ince &s;he became a Wife, he grew almo&s;t mad, and the thoughts of lo&s;ing &s;o much &s;weetne&s;s rack'd his very Soul: Again he ey'd the weeping Fair, and again &s;torm'd and griev'd. He cur&s;t the hour brought <HI>Erinthus</HI> to his Hou&s;e, and &s;aw that if he reveng'd this great affront, he could gain no honour by it, the Quality of the offen|der con&s;ider'd. Be&s;ides <HI>Eriphile</HI> was always dear to him, and now (tho' fal&s;e to the la&s;t degree) as lovely as ever &s;he had been. The powerful Charms of a weeping Beauty can ne're be truly painted. To have &s;een the Dutche&s;s at this time was to be eternally hers, and when &s;he look'd upon her injur'd Lord, &s;he &s;how'd a certain &s;oft|ne&s;s, of force enough to en&s;lave at once the Judg|ment and the Soul. You may believe then, <HI>Albi|&s;inda,</HI> the generous <HI>Entheon</HI> was not in&s;en&s;ible when he beheld her. He &s;ate &s;ometime &s;peechle&s;s, and thinking on his lo&s;s, then &s;uddenly &s;tarting up, he threw him&s;elf upon the Bed, took her in his Arms, and ki&s;s'd away her fears. Ah, <HI>Eriphile!</HI> (cry'd he) how I lov'd you, Heaven and you can tell! How my con&s;tancy has been rewarded, I'm a&s;ham'd to &s;peak! But oh! why <HI>Erinthus</HI> is preferr'd to <HI>Entheon,</HI> you alone can &s;ay! Was
<PB N="67" REF="39"> your Honour (now in&s;eparably ty'd to mine) a Triffle, and Marriage Vows a whim of Prie&s;t|hood? No, no, <HI>Eriphile,</HI> the World will take notice of the fir&s;t, and Heaven I fear can &s;carce neglect the latter. But I, by all that's good, for|give you. Let not my di&s;grace and your weak|ne&s;s be the Table di&s;cour&s;e of a whole Nation: Let all that's pa&s;t be hu&s;h'd up in eternal Silence, and for the future to <HI>Entheon</HI> and to your &s;elf be ju&s;t. Sure, <HI>Albi&s;inda,</HI> you'll confe&s;s 'twas a dou|ble Sin to offend &s;o good a Husband. The ten|der <HI>Eriphile</HI> for that time was truly &s;en&s;ible of this, and, drown'd in Tears, (tho' yet in Bed) threw her &s;elf upon her Knees, gra&s;pt <HI>Entheon</HI>'s Hand, and, weeping, &s;wore by all the Powers above, and by that ju&s;t Heaven &s;he had too much offended, &s;he griev'd what &s;he had done, and for the future would prove her &s;elf the mo&s;t o|bedient humble Wife that ever yet was known; adding, his exce&s;s of Goodne&s;s and Genero&s;ity encreas'd the weight of her <HI>Guilt;</HI> &s;he &s;aw with &s;orrow, how far &s;he had err'd, and a&s;&s;ur'd him that no temptation &s;hould e're again per&s;wade her to forget how much &s;he ow'd to <HI>Entheon</HI> or her &s;elf. The kind Duke forgave her all, rais'd her up, took her again to his Arms, and told her he griev'd nothing more, than that <HI>Erinthus,</HI> proud of &s;o great a Conque&s;t, might betray the Secret; to prevent which, 'twas fitting he &s;hould bleed, for the &s;ecurity of hers and his own Ho|nour. The lovely <HI>Eriphile,</HI> tho' &s;he truly re|pented the wrong &s;he had done her Husband, yet found too &s;oon &s;he had not wholly bani&s;h'd her Lover from her Brea&s;t. She ey'd the Duke with concern, and reading in his Face the &s;igns of
<PB N="68" REF="40"> clo&s;e revenge, &s;he fell a &s;econd time upon her Knees, conjur'd him to believe that &s;he was hear|tily &s;en&s;ible of that fault &s;he had committed, but could not think the death of <HI>Erinthus,</HI> the mo&s;t proper method to &s;ecure his Honour; begg'd as he tender'd her Life, he'd lay a&s;ide that thought, and, as he had already promis'd, pardon all that was done. The Duke could deny her nothing; and &s;ure, <HI>Albi&s;inda,</HI> his ea&s;ine&s;s that way was very pardonable; for had &s;he &s;tood before that &s;urly old <HI>Cynicks Diogenes,</HI> he'd not have us'd her with that freedom he expre&s;s'd to the World's great Conquerour, he'd willingly have quit his Book, and gaz'd upon her, or at lea&s;t have &s;ought no other light but what her eyes could give. Oh, <HI>Albi&s;inda!</HI> &s;ome People may blame him for an exce&s;s of good Nature, upon this and other Emergencies that concern'd <HI>Eriphile.</HI> But then, believe me, their Hearts are of a different Mould from that of this Noble Man, and they ne're &s;aw <HI>Eriphile,</HI> or were capable of any tender|ne&s;s, that think they could have re&s;ented the ill &s;he had done; e&s;pecially when &s;he kneel'd and begg'd forgivene&s;s. In a word, my <HI>Albi&s;inda, Entheon</HI> granted every thing, &s;he promis'd any thing, he believ'd all, &s;he &s;eem'd &s;en&s;ible of all, and both were happy in a new Agreement.</P>
<P>I'm afraid <HI>Albi&s;inda,</HI> (for I frankly confe&s;s my want of Art or Power to move the Pa&s;&s;ions) that by this time you wi&s;h my Letter fini&s;h'd. But the &s;tory affords no great number of Adventures, and that of <HI>Daria,</HI> having wa&s;ted more than half my time, you will find me generous in &s;pite of my &s;elf, becau&s;e nece&s;&s;arily oblig'd to relieve you from the trouble. I &s;hall then, Madam, (like
<PB N="69" REF="40"> our famous Teachers) only beg one minutes pa|tience, and venture to take two.</P>
<P>The Duke tho' he had lov'd much, and be|liev'd much, yet could not chu&s;e but fear more. He remembred that <HI>Eriphile</HI> was a <HI>Woman,</HI> that <HI>Erinthus</HI> was young and hand&s;om, that he was new, and already in po&s;&s;e&s;&s;ion of her Favours. The&s;e con&s;iderations taught him to ob&s;erve her Conduct narrowly, he con&s;ulted her very looks, and tho' his Judgment always ma&s;ter'd his Pa&s;|&s;ions, yet &s;ometimes he could not chu&s;e but think, he read his own di&s;honour painted in her Eyes. On the other hand the Dutche&s;s fear'd to offend, becau&s;e &s;he could not rea&s;onably expect to find him always merciful. <HI>Erinthus</HI> griev'd the lo&s;s of his happine&s;s, but more <HI>Eriphile's</HI> cares, and knew not that the Duke had &s;ign'd her par|don, and &s;eal'd it with his Love. Unwilling ne|verthele&s;s to lo&s;e that happine&s;s he had enjoy'd, by the help of <HI>powerful Guinea,</HI> he convey'd the following <HI>Billet-deux</HI> to the longing Dut|che&s;s.</P>
<LETTER LANG="eng">
<OPENER><SALUTE>Madam,</SALUTE></OPENER>
<P>I <HI>know not how to write, or how to expre&s;s my thoughs; I am ignorant upon what terms you &s;tand with the Duke, and oppre&s;s'd with &s;orrow for what happened. I am &s;afe, but if</HI> Eriphile <HI>Loves not, more unfortunate than if that Bullet de&s;ign'd for my ruin, had lodg'd within my Heart. From all my pains I rely upon you for ea&s;e, and till I &s;ee you, Madam, believe me your unhappy</HI></P>
<CLOSER><SIGNED>Erinthus.</SIGNED></CLOSER>
</LETTER>
<PB N="70" REF="41">
<P> The Dutche&s;s (tho' once half re&s;olv'd to forget him) was o're-joy'd to know him &s;afe, and in &s;pite of all her Re&s;olutions found &s;he lov'd him more than ever. When &s;he retir'd to her Clo&s;et to con&s;ult her Judgment what to do, e're &s;he was aware, &s;he writ him this An&s;wer.</P>
<LETTER LANG="eng">
<OPENER><SALUTE>Erinthus,</SALUTE></OPENER>
<P><HI>DAnger adds to Plea&s;ure, and Fears endear the Ble&s;&s;ing when enjoy'd. Meet me in your Coach to morrow's Night, preci&s;ely at eight, in the King's walk beyond the Garden.</HI></P>
<CLOSER><SIGNED>E&mdash;e.</SIGNED></CLOSER>
</LETTER>
<P>The happy young Man receiv'd it, and fail'd not to obey. When the hour came, he appear'd upon the place with all the longings of a Lover; as yet he &s;aw not one Woman there, and was almo&s;t a&s;&s;ur'd of a di&s;appointment, when a lovely Youth approach'd his Chariot. <HI>Erinthus</HI> be|liev'd him &s;ent from the Dutche&s;s, and bid the Coach-man &s;top, and you may think him hap|pily &s;urpris'd, when he found the hand&s;om Youth was no other than the Dutche&s;s of <HI>Entheon.</HI> The Duke &s;hortly after, by chance, drove the &s;ame way, and as he pa&s;t, <HI>Eriphile</HI> gave him a low Bow, as other &s;trangers did. You may a&s;&s;ure your &s;elf, they &s;tay'd not long in the Walk, there were greater &s;weets to be found in a Bed-Chamber than in the open Fields, and they forgot all tho&s;e hazards they had lately pa&s;t. At ten they part|ed, and the Dutche&s;s got home with all that ea&s;e and &s;ecurity &s;he de&s;ir'd. Her two faithful Maids &s;tood at the Gate to receive her, and as
<PB N="71" REF="41"> &s;he enter'd inform'd her that <HI>Entheon</HI> was at home, that he had enquir'd after her, but that they had told him &s;he was indi&s;pos'd, and begg'd his Grace's pardon. Had Fortune continued this kindne&s;s, all had been well; but, <HI>Albi&s;inda,</HI> you'll confe&s;s 'twas hard, that e're &s;he had fairly enter'd the Room, and ready to undre&s;s, the impatient Duke knock'd at the Door. <HI>Eriphile</HI> (with a Voice &s;eemingly faint) askt who it was, and knowing too &s;oon that 'twas the Duke, you may ea&s;ily think &s;he was &s;tartl'd with the &s;udden ap|prehen&s;ion of her danger. But not &s;o confus'd as to neglect her own &s;afety, &s;he told his Grace, &s;he was &s;o very ill, &s;he could not yet come to the Door without difficulty. <HI>Entheon,</HI> who lov'd her to di&s;traction, fear'd that her indi&s;po&s;ition might indeed be dangerous, and, unable to live one mi|nute from her &s;ight, gently forc'd it open, and found her in the &s;ame dre&s;s in which &s;he had ble&s;s'd her Lover; her Wig and Sword lay ob|vious on the Table, and not one &s;ign of indi&s;po|&s;ition appear'd. The great <HI>Entheon</HI> became dumb with &s;orrow, and the charming <HI>Eriphile</HI> knew not what to &s;ay for her &s;elf. At la&s;t, the Duke broke &s;ilence, and calmly, but with trou|ble, told her, That if &s;he was not really &s;ick, &s;he ought to have been &s;o, &s;eeing his Honour had again been &s;tab'd, and hers was truly dead. This generous Man, <HI>Albi&s;inda,</HI> &s;aid no more; he lov'd her even yet, and griev'd her weakne&s;s. He ey'd her a while, and in &s;pite of all his Cou|rage his Heart melted. But willing to hide his &s;oftne&s;s, he feign'd another Pa&s;&s;ion, &s;how'd an|ger in his looks, and yet in Tears withdrew. When he was gone, <HI>Eriphile</HI> threw her &s;elf upon
<PB N="72" REF="42"> the Bed, wept her own Misfortune, and wi&s;h'd &s;he could yet be &s;en&s;ible of <HI>Entheon</HI>'s merit; and when with pain &s;he view'd him noble, as when fir&s;t he &s;aw her, <HI>Erinthus</HI> leapt between her and the lovely form, and &s;he could think of nothing el&s;e but him. In the mean time the Duke &s;ent for the Earl of <HI>Ci&s;ala,</HI> and acquainted him with all that pa&s;t &s;ince that Night &s;he and <HI>Fidelia</HI> went to the Play-hou&s;e. The old Man was in|finitely &s;urpris'd with what he heard, and thankt him for that moderation he had &s;hown, in an af|fair where &s;o many provoking cau&s;es were given, and told him, that <HI>Eriphile</HI>'s Education had ne're taught her to di&s;honour his Hou&s;e, and again ble&s;s'd him for not expo&s;ing to the World the di&s;grace of his &s;educ'd Daughter. <HI>Eriphile</HI> yet lay upon the Bed, and was perfectly mad with grief, when &s;he &s;aw her Husband and her Father enter. She was too in that dre&s;s which betray'd the Secret; and, weeping as &s;he ro&s;e to receive them. Ah my Lord, (&s;aid &s;he to <HI>Ci&s;ala) I</HI> own my guilt, load me not with reproaches, but rob me of my Life, for I de&s;erve not to live; &s;ince I've di&s;honour'd you, and wrong'd &s;o good a Husband, Oh <HI>Entheon!</HI> (continued &s;he) I can|not ask forgivne&s;s, you have been too kind, and I too ingrateful, yet e're I dye let me receive your Pardon. Whether &s;he truly repented or not, <HI>Albi&s;inda,</HI> is not to be doubted; for &s;he ne're &s;aw <HI>Entheon,</HI> but &s;he lov'd him. But when he and <HI>Erinthus</HI> were both ab&s;ent, her Heart inclin'd to the latter, and own'd him much the happier Man. But, Madam, why &s;hould I detain you longer upon this Adventure, &s;ince I've already promis'd a &s;peedy Conclu&s;ion. In a word then,
<PB N="73" REF="42"> the Duke lov'd too well, and &s;he was too charm|ing. Her new dre&s;s gave her a thou&s;and Gra|ces, expos'd the tenderne&s;s and delicacy of her &s;hape, and &s;how'd &s;o much of &s;oftne&s;s in her Air, 'twas enough to have charm'd the mo&s;t in&s;en&s;i|ble of Human Kind, for even when in the Grove &s;he lay, and &s;how'd by chance what el&s;e had been conceal'd, her Limbs appear'd not to the van|qui&s;h'd Youth, with half tho&s;e Beauties which he now di&s;cover'd. <HI>Ci&s;ala</HI> too interceded for her, and 'twas morally impo&s;&s;ible for the Duke not to be reconcil'd to &s;o fair an offender.</P>
<P>Things being thus &s;etled, they liv'd for &s;ome time in a &s;eeming Union. How far their Hearts were engag'd in this peace I &s;hall not offer to de|termine, but by what has follow'd it appears, the Dutche&s;s kept not to Articles on her &s;ide. <HI>E|rinthus</HI> it &s;eems had too many Charms to be with ea&s;e forgot, and even in <HI>Entheon</HI>'s Arms &s;he &s;igh'd and wi&s;h'd for him. The Duke &s;ome Months after was oblig'd to go into the Coun|try, where he &s;tay'd a con&s;iderable time. He tru&s;ted much to <HI>Eriphile</HI>'s Promi&s;es, and (confi|dent of her future conduct) left her with that ea&s;e and peace of mind, which happy Husbands know, of virtuous Wives po&s;&s;e&s;s'd. In his ab|&s;ence 'twas impo&s;&s;ible for <HI>Eriphile</HI> to be con&s;tant to her Vows, <HI>Erinthus</HI> attacqu'd her with Letters, and all the Arts of a cunning Lover, knowing that where a Woman once has yielded, 'tis rare|ly found &s;he can deny again. In a word, the Lover was again happy, and the witty fair <HI>Eri|phile</HI> again was faulty. The continued ab&s;ence of <HI>Entheon</HI> gave them all that &s;ecurity they could de&s;ire, and frequent meetings made the Crime at
<PB N="74" REF="43"> la&s;t &s;o obvious, that all the World took notice on't. Every Servant in the Hou&s;e knew it, and tho' they lov'd the Dutche&s;s, yet hated the happy Lover. He often &s;tay'd all Night; and 'tis known that two of the Maids at a certain time peeping throw the Key-hole &s;aw them in Bed to|gether, the Curtain at foot being open, and next morning could perceive the marks of impi|ous Love, and &s;igns of Honour lo&s;t. Nay the Intrigue grew &s;o notorious, that <HI>Erinthus</HI>'s Friends enquir'd for him no where but at the Duke of <HI>Entheon</HI>'s; and <HI>Fidelia,</HI> one day before many wit|ne&s;&s;es, by way of raillery, askt <HI>Eriphile,</HI> if <HI>Erin|thus</HI> was not in her Clo&s;et? We &s;hall &s;ee him (&s;aid &s;he laughing) appear by and by like a fatigu'd Traveller. There was one thing too, which e|vidently demon&s;trated that familiarity between the Fair One and this fortunate Youth. One of her Maids coming accidentally into the Room, found the charming Dutche&s;s in a Po&s;ture that vi|&s;ibly betray'd pa&s;t or intended Crimes; for &s;he was &s;itting upon the Bed, where the happy Lover was allow'd tho&s;e freedoms which fire the weary Soul, and give new flames, that when encreas'd expire. 'Tis impo&s;&s;ible to find me an Anchorite &s;o frozen or devout, that could have &s;een the half of all tho&s;e Charms, without a pa&s;&s;ion not to be expre&s;t; his Hands gra&s;pther naked Limbs, &s;he wanton'd, wi&s;h'd and &s;igh'd, and &s;how'd &s;o much of plea&s;ure in her Eyes, his very Soul grew giddy with the Joy. The Dutche&s;s (and not without ju&s;t cau&s;e) was heartily di&s;pleas'd with that di&s;co|very the Maid had made, and in a pa&s;&s;ion, to which &s;he was much a &s;tranger, de&s;ir'd <HI>Erinthus</HI> would for this impudence kick her down Stairs; but
<PB N="75" REF="43">
'tis to be pre&s;um'd &s;he &s;ay'd him that labour by her &s;peedy ab&s;ence.</P>
<P>At la&s;t the unwelcome Duke came from the Country, and having tho&s;e in the Family who watch'd the behaviour of his Wife, he was &s;oon inform'd how faulty &s;he had been. However he conceal'd his re&s;entment as much as po&s;&s;ible, took her as kindly to his Arms as ever, and only waited for an ocular proof of her infidelity, e're he &s;hould attempt to right him&s;elf. <HI>Eriphile</HI> believ'd him ig|norant of all, and without a blu&s;h receiv'd him. This added to his inward Fury, and <HI>I</HI> may almo&s;t believe, (&s;o much he hated di&s;&s;imulation and trea|chery) that had &s;he again confe&s;s'd the truth, and again begg'd pardon, he had l&oacute;v'd again. But Fortune was never her Friend, and &s;he never yet was guilty of any thing, but what was by &s;ome <GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter">ccident or other unluckily betray'd. Doubtle&s;s, <HI>Albi&s;inda,</HI> there are Ladies in <HI>Clu&s;a</HI> who have done <GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter">s much as ever &s;he did, who yet pa&s;s for Virtu|<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter">us, and would faint (at lea&s;t be thought to do &s;o) when they heard but the name of di&s;hone&s;t Love mention'd before a Witne&s;s.</P>
<P>The Duke one evening returning from Court, <GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter">nd almo&s;t entring <HI>Clu&s;a,</HI> he found his Coach &s;uddenly &s;top'd by the over turning of an Hack|<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter">ey, which cro&s;s'd that Road in which he was. The voice of a Lady, frighted with her fall, re|quir'd <HI>Entheon</HI>'s a&s;&s;i&s;tance; and, leaping from his Chariot, you will not find it ea&s;ie to paint his &s;ur|pri&s;e, when he &s;aw <HI>Eriphile</HI> and her Lover ari|<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter">ing from the Ground! The &s;urpris'd Youth, un|willing to run the hazard of the Duke's Fury, whom he had too vi&s;ibly injur'd, abandon'd the place, and between running and walking &s;oon va|ni&s;h'd
<PB N="76" REF="44"> from his &s;ight. The wi&s;e Husband was pleas'd he fled, knowing 'twas beneath him&s;elf to re&s;ent the Villany. He weighed his Birth and <HI>Eriphile</HI>'s repeated guilt, and now re&s;olv'd upon a way of revenge proper to her Crimes, he &s;tept again into his Chariot, and without &s;peaking one word to the mortified Dutche&s;s, order'd the Coach-man to drive immediately home. Poor <HI>Eriphile</HI> was almo&s;t mad with grief, &s;he could not expect kinder u&s;age from the Duke, nor could &s;he blame <HI>Erinthus</HI> for what he did; tho' if &s;he had not lov'd too much, &s;he had not for|got that he went off and left her in the hands of an incens'd Husband. In the mean time the Coach was again fitted up, and &s;he came to <HI>Clu|&s;a</HI> with more &s;orrow than e're &s;he had known before; &s;he dur&s;t not tru&s;t her &s;elf with the Duke after what had pa&s;t, nor could &s;he think of being truly welcome to her Father. To relieve her from the&s;e anxieties, as &s;he enter'd the Port, <HI>Erinthus</HI> (who had waited with impatiency) &s;how'd him|&s;elf; &s;he was glad to &s;ee him, and the Coach door boing opened, &s;he received him with all that ten|derne&s;s of which a Woman is capable. To be &s;hort, <HI>Albi&s;inda,</HI> they went off together, and <HI>E|riphile</HI> now &s;ecure in her Lover's Hou&s;e, forgot her fears, her Honour and her Husband. She remembred not now how much &s;he was e&s;teemed when Virtuous, and &s;carce could think her bro|ken Vows a Crime. <HI>Entheon</HI> in the mean time &s;ought to redre&s;s his Honour, and before the <HI>Re|gala</HI> (with us called a Spiritual Court) &s;ued for a Divorce. The Dutche&s;s, tho' unfortunate in her amour, had neverthele&s;s managed it &s;o well, that he found it impo&s;&s;ible to ca&s;t her; and tho' 'twas
<PB N="77" REF="44"> known that &s;he was guilty of the Crime laid to her Charge, yet it could not at that time be proved; and &s;he enjoy'd her Lover and her For|tune. The Duke's and her di&s;honour was now the publick Theme of every di&s;cour&s;e in <HI>Clu&s;a,</HI> all Men were &s;orry for her, and no Man con|demn'd his di&s;creet Conduct. But, <HI>Albi&s;inda,</HI> her confidence of her own &s;afety advanc'd her Mis|fortune. <HI>Entheon</HI> was too great a Man to be always abus'd, and having at la&s;t remov'd his Suit, the powerful <HI>Segdarin</HI> (or Senate) did him Ju&s;tice, and &s;he is at this time the Divorc'd <HI>Eriphile,</HI> once the happy Dutche&s;s of <HI>Entheon.</HI> Some People may alledge, that the Duke was too formal in his Re&s;entment, and that he ought to have puni&s;h'd <HI>Erinthus</HI> as the Crime de&s;erv'd; that is to &s;ay, <HI>Albi&s;inda,</HI> &s;hot him when he found him in his way to <HI>Clu&s;a,</HI> or at lea&s;t after his di&s;|appointment in the fir&s;t Tryal. But 'tis certain <HI>Entheon</HI> cho&s;e the better way; 'twas known to e|very Man that he wanted not Courage, and in in his Youth he has even run beyond Seas, on purpo&s;e nobly to re&s;ent affronts to others done, who were not truly capable of doing Ju&s;tice to them&s;elves or him, who&s;e Honour &s;uffer'd in their Per&s;ons.</P>
<P>You &s;ee, <HI>Albi&s;inda,</HI> (becau&s;e I would not rob you of all patience) l've come to a conclu&s;ion &s;o &s;peedily, that I have almo&s;t cramp'd the Story: But you are the Woman whom by no means I would offend, and tho' I writ with plea&s;ure, yet I deny my &s;elf a continuation of that happine&s;s, rather than be too trouble&s;ome. Oh, <HI>Albi&s;inda!</HI> if you knew my thoughts or inclinations, you <GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 span"> pardon whatever has e&s;cap'd me in
<PB N="78" REF="45"> my Letter. If you have found any thing in i<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter"> too Natural, that is, <HI>Albi&s;inda,</HI> not truly nice enough, believe 'twas a force upon me to plea&s;e others. But if I have offended you, I buy their Friend&s;hip at a price too dear. How cruel you have been, Madam, I cea&s;e to mention now, but I pre&s;ume this way of writing was not prohibited that fatal Night in which you told me I was e|ver to expect your Friend&s;hip, and the happi|ne&s;s of being the fir&s;t Man in your E&s;teem, but could not hope for Love. <HI>Albi&s;inda,</HI> I could trace the Story even to that place where fir&s;t we met, and where two Fools (who alone it &s;eems are fortunate) were happy, and had that Heaven they &s;ought, by jugling Quacks allow'd. I could &s;how my innocence, or at lea&s;t excu&s;e whate're I did by putting you in mind of my Years. But, by my hopes of better Fortune, I know not yet what 'twas that mov'd your anger, and I rely up|on your goodne&s;s only for a pardon: I could for ever think on the innocent Plea&s;ures of that day in which you mention'd the Story in <HI>Phara|mond,</HI> your obliging Compliment, and that di&s;|covery of my flame which immediatly follow'd the Encouragement&mdash;The remembrance of the&s;e things make me truly Melancholy, and I am forc'd to end. Oh, <HI>Albi&s;inda!</HI> I'll &s;ay no more then; but, if you can, remember the Man who has often &s;ub&s;crib'd him&s;elf,</P>
</DIV2>
<CLOSER><SIGNED>Marcomire.</SIGNED></CLOSER>
<TRAILER>FINIS.</TRAILER>
</DIV1>
</BODY>
</TEXT>
<TEXT LANG="eng">
<FRONT>
<DIV1 TYPE="title page">
<PB REF="45">
<P>LOVE AFTER ENJOYMENT; OR, FATAL CONSTANCY.</P>
<P>Written by Mr. <HI>D. Cr&mdash;rd,</HI> Gent.</P>
<P><HI>LONDON,</HI> Printed for <HI>Job Au&s;tin</HI> in <HI>Fleet-Street,</HI> and &s;old by the Book&s;ellers of <HI>London</HI> and <HI>We&s;tmin&s;ter,</HI> 1700.</P>
</DIV1>
</FRONT>
<BODY>
<DIV1 TYPE="letter">
<PB REF="46">
<PB N="1" REF="46">
<HEAD>LOVE after ENJOYMENT, <HI>&amp;c.</HI></HEAD>
<HEAD>Timandra <HI>to the Charming</HI> Sirena.</HEAD>
<OPENER><SALUTE>Madam,</SALUTE></OPENER>
<P>THE few Accidents afforded in the Hi|&s;tory of my Life, (or rather my Love) are &s;uch as mode&s;ty &s;ometimes forbids me the recital; and a&s;&s;ure your &s;elf, that were it not I had a more than common e&s;teem of her who lays this Command upon me, I &s;hould no doubt conceal a great part of what I de&s;ign to write. But the promi&s;e you have made me of a return in the &s;ame kind prevails mo&s;t upon me; this I am ea&s;ily induc'd to confe&s;s, becau&s;e you know me naturally curious in Affairs of Love, and I'm per&s;waded the number of your Adorers has render'd you the Mi&s;tre&s;s of a great many Adventures. I am not accu&s;tomed to write Letters of this length, and therefore I cannot hope to avoid Tautologies, nor can I produce the &s;tory in due form; becau&s;e, in the fir&s;t place my Judgment may be often di&s;order'd with the Re|membrance of Plea&s;ures pa&s;t; in the &s;econd, my memory can't an&s;wer the de&s;ign of an Hi&s;torian, nor a Man of Mon&s;ieur <HI>Scuddery</HI>'s Imployment. My Style will be purely natural, and every thing deliver'd in the &s;ame dre&s;s, and with as little of
<PB N="2" REF="47"> Art, as if you had the Story immediately from my Mouth without Premeditation.</P>
<P>MY Father (Marque&s;s of <HI>Huayna)</HI> dy'd in the fourth year of my Age, I remember &s;ome things of his Burial, but nothing el&s;e that con|cern'd him. He left me all the E&s;tate he had, having none but my &s;elf to &s;ucceed him. I &s;hall pa&s;s over in &s;ilence my Education, and whatever Accidents might happen in our Family, and tell you that I was in a very few years taken notice of, by all the Young Gentlemen in the City of <HI>Capac,</HI> where I then re&s;ided; and whether it was the effect of that &s;mall Beauty I po&s;&s;e&s;s, or the largene&s;s of my Fortune, I &s;hall not determine. But, before I had reach'd my twelfth Year, I cou'd &s;ee &s;everal &s;igh for me; I was yet &s;o very Young, that I &s;carce believ'd any &s;uch Pa&s;&s;ion as Love had been incident to Mortals. I had never felt it my &s;elf, and con&s;equently laugh'd at all tho&s;e who told me they cou'd Die for me.</P>
<LG>
<L>I liv'd at ea&s;e, and only felt tho&s;e Cares,</L>
<L>Which wait on Mortals in their younger Years.</L>
<L>I view'd &s;ecurely men in Tempe&s;ts to&s;t,</L>
<L>Saw unconcern'd the bu&s;ie Mortals lo&s;t.</L>
<L>Laugh'd at the Hurricane, and &s;corn'd all care,</L>
<L>Shrink'd up in quiet, cau&s;e I was not there.</L>
<L>Ah happy time! (if then our Bli&s;s we knew)</L>
<L>When from a-far the di&s;tant World we view:</L>
<L>We dwell with lovely Innocence and Joy,</L>
<L>Nor feel tho&s;e Pa&s;&s;ions which our ea&s;e De&s;troy.</L>
<L>Know no di&s;&s;embling Arts, nor dream of Love,</L>
<L>To which in Riper Age &s;o &s;oon we move.</L>
<PB N="3" REF="47">
<L> But, ah! this Charming Scene po&s;ts quick away,</L>
<L>And a long Night &s;ucceeds the &s;hort-liv'd Day.</L>
<L>Unlook't for ills our rowling Years pur&s;ue,</L>
<L>Ages of Pain, our hours of Plea&s;ure few,</L>
<L>And &s;till old troubles giving way to new.</L>
</LG>
<P>He who fir&s;t found out the way to plea&s;e me, was one whom Nature meant for the undoing of our Sex. To &s;ee him, and not to love him, were things incon&s;i&s;tent. He was &s;econd Son to the Earl of <HI>Rucana,</HI> his elde&s;t Brother being then a|broad, (and not having for &s;ome years acquain|ted his Relations with the place of his abode,) the young <HI>Adra&s;tus</HI> (for that's his Name) was look'd upon by all the Ladies in Town, as the &s;ole Heir of &s;o ancient a Family; he was Hand|&s;ome to a wonder, of good Shapes, did every thing with a &s;ingular Grace, was mighty Com|plai&s;ant, and knew perfectly how to plea&s;e the greate&s;t Criticks in matter of Gallantry. He had ea&s;ie acce&s;s to our Hou&s;e; his Father was &s;omething related to my Mother, and being a Widdower had made &s;ome advances in Court|&s;hip to her, the better to introduce his Son whom he de&s;ign'd for me; upon this &s;mall Relation the young <HI>Adra&s;tus</HI> pretended a more than com|mon Intere&s;t in our Family. He very often came to &s;ee me, and wou'd &s;ometimes &s;tay the be&s;t part of the Day.; my Mother was pleas'd to &s;ee him de&s;irous of my Company, &s;he was per|fectly in Love with the Father, and forgot no|thing that conduc'd to the happine&s;s of his Son; the old Man a&s;&s;uring her 'twas the greate&s;t Mark &s;he cou'd give him of her Affection; &s;he commended the young Lover upon all occa&s;ions,
<PB N="4" REF="48"> who&s;e bewitching behaviour was enough to move the mo&s;t in&s;en&s;ible. I &s;eem'd to hear her however with indifferency, and often gave her tho&s;e An&s;wers that &s;uited nothing with my real thoughts. This made her often de&s;pair of making me &s;en&s;ible for a Man &s;he de&s;ign'd her Son at any rate, and therefore at la&s;t per&s;waded the then innocent <HI>Adra&s;tus</HI> (who hitherto had never &s;poke of Love to me) to try his Fortune him&s;elf. He often ob&s;erv'd me very cold towards him, (tho' it proceeded from nothing but that tenderne&s;s I had for him, becau&s;e I was afraid he might perceive it) and fears much how to &s;et a|bout it; he doubts a perpetual Bani&s;hment might en&s;ue upon a Di&s;covery of this Nature: And this he argu'd from my precedent &s;eeming Aver|&s;ion, while he yet remain'd in a &s;tate of Friend|&s;hip, and often let &s;lip tho&s;e opportunities which made for his Advantage. This vex'd me &s;en&s;i|bly, and I cou'd have wi&s;h'd him le&s;s fearful (for I knew he lov'd) or my &s;elf more indiffe|rent. However, being hourly in my Company, he was at la&s;t in&s;pir'd with more Courage; and one day as we were in a Balcony, that hung o|ver the Garden Wall, I chanc'd to Commend a row of Cypre&s;s Trees (then next our view) as the mo&s;t plea&s;ant, becau&s;e of a Grove at one end full of curious Springs and &s;ome Artificial Water-works; he laid hold of this, tho' he had neglected better occa&s;ions, and looking confus'd|ly upon me, Madam, (&s;aid he) I have often ob|&s;erv'd your choice of this Walk, which methinks is the mo&s;t &s;olitary in the Garden; tho&s;e I hated a few Months ago, but of late the mo&s;t re|tir'd places be&s;t fit my humour, and I cou'd wi&s;h
<PB N="3" REF="48"> your Inclinations to 'em had the &s;ame cau&s;e with that of mine. Here he &s;topt, and I believe e|qually fear'd my taking notice of what he had &s;aid, and my neglecting on't. I &s;oon perceiv'd his aim, and willing to make him believe I did not. I know not (&s;aid I, looking coldly upon him) what may be the cau&s;e of your Melancho|ly, nor have <HI>I</HI> hitherto ob&s;erv'd that change in your Humour you mention. No Madam, (cry'd he, interrupting me, and with a brisker Air) had it been my Happine&s;s to be taken notice of by you, among&s;t the common Herd of men, you had e're now &s;een that change which all the World takes notice of. The truth is, he had grown &s;ome|thing more re&s;erv'd of late, and carry'd in his Countenance the Marks of a violent Flame, this <HI>I</HI> acknowledg'd in part to him, but willing to Convert it to raillery, <HI>Adra&s;tus,</HI> (&s;aid <HI>I</HI> &s;miling) <HI>I</HI> hope your Melancholy proceeds not from the ab&s;ence of your elder Brother, whom all men conclude long &s;ince in the other World; if it does, methinks you are too tender, to mourn a lo&s;s that brings &s;o great a profit. Madam, (&s;aid he, with a look that pierc'd my Heart) my &s;ullen Humour has another Original; had you been le&s;s fair, <HI>I</HI> &s;till had been happy, half of tho&s;e Beau|ties you po&s;&s;e&s;s, are &s;ufficient to impo&s;e Chains on a Heart more &s;tubborn than mine. In a word, Madam, I'm your Lover, <HI>I</HI> mu&s;t for ever be &s;o, <HI>I</HI> die for you, and nothing but a return can create my Happine&s;s. Here he ended, with a look &s;o am'rous and &s;ubmi&s;&s;ive, 'twas enough to have Charm'd even <HI>Niobe:</HI> Neverthele&s;s <HI>I</HI> feign'd a mighty di&s;plea&s;ure at the freedom he had a&s;&s;um'd; he &s;aw me frown, and was ju&s;t
<PB N="6" REF="49"> ready to &s;peak in his own behalf, when the old Earl and my Mother enter'd the Room, he pre|&s;ently withdrew a con&s;iderable di&s;tance from me, with that confu&s;ion in his Face which his Father ea&s;ily ob&s;erv'd; however the old Man &s;eem'd to take no notice on't, yet he &s;oon engag'd me to take a walk in the Garden, and taking my Mo|ther by the Hand, left me for his Son. <HI>Adra&s;tus</HI> had &s;o much of Love in his Eyes, that for my &s;oul <HI>I</HI> cou'd not be angry with him, yet gave him my Hand without any &s;igns of my being appeas'd; while we walk't, <HI>I</HI> cou'd ob&s;erve the di&s;order in which he was, a &s;udden Palene&s;s o|ver&s;pread his Face, next moment a Ruddy Blu&s;h betray'd his quick &s;urpri&s;e, unu&s;ual beating &s;eiz'd his trembling Heart, and methought <HI>I</HI> felt that eager melting tenderne&s;s in every touch, as if his trembling Hand had reach'd my fireing Soul; he fear'd <HI>I</HI> might lay hold of the lea&s;t op|portunity to reproach him, and therefore kep't as nigh the old Earl as po&s;&s;ibly he cou'd; he was not &s;o much in Love with my Mother, but that he cou'd ea&s;ily perceive his Son's Behaviour, be gave him a look that &s;how'd his &s;entiments; and then chu&s;ing another Walk left us. <HI>Adra&s;tus</HI> much repented his Temerity in the di&s;covery of his Flame, becau&s;e he fear'd <HI>I</HI> &s;hould never more admit his Vi&s;its; but &s;eeing what was pa&s;t cou'd not be recall'd, he re&s;olv'd to make the be&s;t on't. Madam &s;aid he (as &s;oon as they were gone) <HI>I</HI> doubt not but that you are incens'd at the Declaration I have made you, but if that can attone for the Sin I have committed, believe that nothing but invincible Nece&s;&s;ity cou'd force me to tran&s;gre&s;s tho&s;e Bounds I have &s;o long pre|&s;crib'd
<PB N="7" REF="49"> my &s;elf. I have ador'd you &s;ince I fir&s;t &s;aw you, even to Idolatry, and the Suppre&s;&s;ion of my Flame &s;o long, has only &s;erv'd to make it burn with more violence.&mdash;Having thus &s;aid, he con&s;ulted my Eyes for his future De&s;tiny, and I was willing to arm them with more Fury than my Inclination cou'd well permit. 'Tis impo&s;&s;ible to hold out again&s;t tho&s;e we love; I had long admir'd him in &s;ecret, and often wi&s;h'd for what I was then about to de&s;troy; I read Pa&s;&s;i|on in his looks, I'm &s;traight di&s;arm'd, then all my Counterfeit anger in a moment leaves me; and 'twas with difficulty <HI>I</HI> cou'd hide my real Senti|ments. As &s;oon as my Soul was &s;ettled, Sir, (&s;aid <HI>I) I</HI> can't chu&s;e but wonder at what you have told me; for if you had lov'd more, you had not pre&s;um'd &s;o much, but I'm willing to forget what's pa&s;t, if for the future you avoid the like Error: How the&s;e words drop't from me, <HI>I</HI> know not; <HI>I</HI> Lov'd 'tis true, but at the &s;ame time <HI>I</HI> &s;wear <HI>I</HI> was a&s;ham'd of my own weakne&s;s, <HI>I</HI> ca&s;t down my Eyes, and was ju&s;t ready to le&s;&s;en tho&s;e hopes <HI>I</HI> had given, by words of a har&s;her Nature; when he, o're-joy'd at his unlock'd for &s;ucce&s;s, threw him&s;elf at my feet; he gra&s;p'd my knees with the eagerne&s;s of departing Souls, thank't me a thou&s;and times for that new Life <HI>I</HI> had given him, and &s;aid &s;o much that 'twas impo&s;&s;ible to doubt him. <HI>I</HI> was nor much di&s;pleas'd at what <HI>I</HI> &s;aw, or heard, <HI>I</HI> had &s;carce the Power of &s;peak|ing left me, and with a faint Voice bid him mo|derate his Joy, he knew not how &s;oon it might be at an end; he pre&s;ently r<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter">&s;e with that Satis|faction in his Eyes, which none but Lovers can enjoy, and taking a cro&s;s Alley which led to that where the Earl was, we &s;oon reach'd 'em, and
<PB N="8" REF="50"> &s;o continued together till the Night Air Com|manded us to withdraw; and then we parted, both pleas'd with what had happen'd.</P>
<P>THE next Day he came to &s;ee me, <HI>I</HI> cou'd &s;ee a new-born Joy in all his looks, and I fancy he read very little of anger in mine. <HI>I</HI> repen|ted heartily of that &s;ilence <HI>I</HI> half enjoyn'd him, often imagining with my &s;elf what moving words he'd utter, were the liberty of &s;peaking granted; he ea&s;ily perceiv'd part of that e&s;teem <HI>I</HI> bore him, and therefore ventur'd to whi&s;per in my Ears a thou&s;and moving things natural to a pa&s;&s;ionate Lover, young and eloquent; <HI>I</HI> heark|ned to all tho&s;e Vows he made, with an inward Satisfaction, that &s;ometimes di&s;play'd it &s;elf in my Eyes; he came often to &s;ee me, prote&s;ted a violent Love for me, and &s;eldom left me with|out &s;ome new Addition to his hopes.</P>
<P>THINGS &s;tood in this po&s;ture, when <HI>Hua|&s;car</HI> (his elder Brother) came home. The old Earl was beyond expre&s;&s;ion o're joy'd at the &s;ight of a Son he had &s;o long mourn'd as Dead, and I'm per&s;waded <HI>Adra&s;tus</HI> was not &s;o much di&s;|contented for the lo&s;s of that E&s;tate he was rob'd of, as at the thoughts of my e&s;teeming him the le&s;s; he in&s;tantly acquainted me with it, by a Note he privately convey'd to my Hands, and tho' it was the fir&s;t he ever &s;ent me, <HI>I</HI> cannot &s;ay <HI>I</HI> was angry at the freedom. If <HI>I</HI> remember well, 'twas to this purpo&s;e.</P>
<LETTER LANG="eng">
<OPENER><SALUTE>Madam,</SALUTE></OPENER>
<P>I <HI>Have pre&s;um'd without liberty to give you this</HI> Billerdeux, <HI>my Brother is come home, and a thou&s;and feare po&s;&s;e&s;s me, I put on your</HI>
<PB N="9" REF="50"> <HI>Chains without any thoughts of your Fortune, and I hope you won't le&s;&s;en that e&s;teem you have hitherto had of me, for the lo&s;s of mine; I die with Impatiency to wait on you; pity me, for till then I think of nothing but of you, or of a dang'rous Rival newly arriv'd.</HI></P>
<CLOSER><SIGNED>Adra&s;tus.</SIGNED></CLOSER>
</LETTER>
<P>I was not &s;orry to &s;ee him afraid of lo&s;ing that which <HI>I</HI> was willing no other &s;hou'd po&s;|&s;e&s;s; <HI>I</HI> lov'd, and found nothing about him in all my &s;earch, that told me he did not de&s;erve it; and in this thought <HI>I</HI> return'd him an an&s;wer to this effect.</P>
<LETTER LANG="eng">
<OPENER><SALUTE>Sir,</SALUTE></OPENER>
<P><HI>THE fears that po&s;&s;e&s;s you are groundle&s;s, Intere&s;t has no &s;hare in my Love; &s;ee me as &s;oon as po&s;&s;ible, and till then be unea&s;ie for no|thing but my ab&s;ence.</HI></P>
<CLOSER><SIGNED>Timandra.</SIGNED></CLOSER>
</LETTER>
<P>After <HI>I</HI> had writ it, <HI>I</HI> was a thou&s;and times re&s;olv'd to commit it to the Flames; the words were the real Sentiments of my Heart, and <HI>I</HI> was a&s;ham'd to own 'em &s;o tender: But when <HI>I</HI> remember'd him for whom 'twas mean't, <HI>I</HI> cou'd not chu&s;e but think it well; <GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter"> lov'd him, and was willing to oblige him. <HI>I</HI> fancy'd to my &s;elf the young Lover, with all his Charms about him, in that exta&s;ie &s;o obliging a Letter wou'd undoubtedly give. He fail'd not to come that Night, tho' at an hour almo&s;t un&s;ea&s;onable. <HI>I was</HI> glad to &s;ee &s;o many &s;igns of a real Love, as his
<PB N="10" REF="51"> fears then di&s;cover'd, and we parted not, till he had given me all the a&s;&s;urances imaginable of a tender and con&s;tant Pa&s;&s;ion, and <HI>I</HI> in Exchange had promis'd the entire po&s;&s;e&s;&s;ion of my Heart: Never were Days &s;pent with greater Plea&s;ure, and in this &s;tate of Happine&s;s and Innocence, we contiu'd for a con&s;iderable time, each Day producing new Joys, and a continu'd Scene of Love. But Fortune had betray'd her Nature, had &s;he been longer our Friend.<HI>&mdash;I</HI> had gone out one Evening in my Chariot with a couple of Hor&s;es, to take the Air in a plea&s;ant Field, about half a Mile from the Town, <HI>I</HI> had no Footmen with me, and was attended only by my Maid <HI>Zibelline;</HI> the Sun was almo&s;t &s;et when <HI>I</HI> cou'd perceive &s;ome Gentlemen coming into that Road in which <HI>I</HI> was, but unwilling to be &s;een, <HI>I</HI> order'd the Coachman to chu&s;e a|nother, this in&s;tead of an&s;wering my de&s;ign led me to them, &s;everal of them pa&s;t by me, paying only tho&s;e re&s;pects they thought due to a Wo|man of my Rank, but he who came la&s;t, and that by his Pre&s;ence and Furniture &s;eem'd to exceed the others in Quality, &s;top't within twenty Paces of my Coach; <HI>I</HI> &s;oon perceiv'd it, and at fir&s;t judg'd he might be of my Ac|quaintance, when <HI>I</HI> came up to him he turn'd his Hor&s;e the &s;ame way <HI>I</HI> drove, and looking earne&s;tly upon me, Madam (&s;aid he) what &s;trange accidents attend us Mortals, <HI>I</HI> went out free in the Morning, per&s;u'd the Cha&s;e all Day, and in the Evening am become a Pri&s;oner to an unknown Conqueror. <HI>I</HI> was about to have return'd a &s;peedy an&s;wer, that wou'd have &s;uited nothing with his Quality, when <HI>I</HI> cou'd
<PB N="11" REF="51"> perceive by the Star on his Cloak 'twas the Duke of <HI>Minoya;</HI> he's a very hand&s;om young Man, Fair, and of a middle Stature, but one that Loves every where, the greate&s;t Prince in our Country, and of no &s;mall Authority; <HI>I</HI> only &s;mil'd at what he &s;aid, but he in&s;i&s;ted on the Subject, &s;wore he lov'd, and that till now he ne're had &s;een a Woman truly Charming. The Coach &s;till drove on, and he &s;till rode by it, with his Eyes fix'd on mine. When <HI>I</HI> arriv'd at the City Gates <HI>I</HI> beg'd be'd leave me, but in vain; <HI>I</HI> fretted much at the unlucky accident, I de&s;ir'd not to be known to him, and prudently remember'd how much it endanger'd my Repu|tation, to entertain for a Lover, a Man who had deceiv'd the greate&s;t Ladies of our Country, often obtaining the la&s;t Favours from them without any returns. But he wou'd not be per|&s;waded, and <HI>I</HI> was at la&s;t forc'd to tell him who <HI>I</HI> was: This knowledge added a little to that re&s;pect he pay'd me, but was much the &s;ame as if he had accompany'd me home, for there were few in <HI>Capac</HI> who cou'd not inform him where the Marque&s;s of <HI>Hayana</HI>'s Daughter liv'd. He came next Day and pay'd me a vi&s;it, pre&s;um|ing either upon his Birth, or his young acquain|tance, and perhaps upon both. I was but indiffe|rent Campany for a Man of his bu&s;ine&s;s, my &s;tock of Love was already &s;pent, and the Hand|&s;ome&s;t Youth in <HI>Capac</HI> wou'd have found me Bankrupt in all things but my Pity. He was not a whit daunted at this Reception how-e're un|look't for, his former &s;ucce&s;&s;es encouraging him to hope the like in this. About this time the Earl of <HI>Rucana</HI> dy'd of an Apoplexy, leaving his elde&s;t
<PB N="12" REF="52"> Son to rejoyce in the Po&s;&s;e&s;&s;ion of a great E&s;tate&punc; and my Mother to mourn the lo&s;s of one &s;he look'd upon as her Husband. This for &s;ome time kept away the young <HI>Adra&s;tus,</HI> but cou'd not hinder the Duke from his daily vi&s;its. My Mother knew very well of it, and ea&s;ily believes my Beauty and Fortune &s;ufficient to advance me to &s;o honourable a Match; and having lo&s;t all hopes of Po&s;&s;e&s;&s;ing the Father, &s;he remembers the Son no more, and imploys her Intere&s;t for this new and potent Lover only. In the mean time <HI>I</HI> thought of nothing but <HI>Adra&s;tus,</HI> he al|ways writ to me, and decency no &s;ooner permit|ted than he came to &s;ee me. <HI>I</HI> told him nothing of the Duke's vi&s;its, <HI>I</HI> lov'd him too well to give him the knowledge of that which wou'd have made him the mo&s;t unea&s;ie Man alive, and he parted from me with his u&s;ual Satisfaction; our affairs did not long continue in this State, <HI>Adra&s;tus</HI> having drop't a Letter of mine, which he had receiv'd privately while in the Room with his Brother, laid the Scene for mo&s;t of my misfortunes that follow'd; as &s;oon as he could lay hold of opportunity he went into the Garden, there to read what he had newly receiv'd; but after a tedious &s;earch, he at la&s;t concludes it lo&s;t. The Earl had taken it up, but <HI>Adra&s;tus,</HI> who was very well acquainted with his Humour, knew 'twas impo&s;&s;ible to make him own the Fact, and therefore came in&s;tantly to inform me of the accident; tho' <HI>I</HI> was &s;orry my Letter had reach'd <HI>Rucana</HI>'s Hands, yet <HI>I</HI> cou'd not chu&s;e but &s;mile at that concern <HI>Adra&s;tus</HI> &s;how'd for the lo&s;s; the more he was vex'd methought he &s;poke the more of Love. <HI>Adra&s;tus</HI> (&s;aid <HI>I,</HI> to
<PB N="13" REF="52"> ea&s;e him of his Fears) let not what has happened trouble you, your Brother has never yet &s;een me, nor when he does will he find me in a Hu|mour to his Advantage. My Lover thereupon went away &s;atisfied, tho' not before I had charg'd him not to acquaint the Earl with his lo&s;s, nor to &s;ee me that Day or the next. <HI>I</HI> com|manded, and he &s;earch'd no further into the Cau&s;e of his Bani&s;hment. <HI>Rucana,</HI> who in the mean time had read my Letter, found it to this pur|po&s;e.</P>
<LETTER LANG="eng">
<P>I <HI>De&s;ign this Night to take the Air, accompa|ny'd only by my Maid</HI> Zibelline, <HI>at the back of the Lake</HI> Cacique, <HI>you may come attended by your Page.</HI></P>
<CLOSER><SIGNED>Timandra.</SIGNED></CLOSER>
</LETTER>
<P>He had no &s;ooner read my Name, than he knew from whom it came, he had heard me often com|mended for my Beauty, and found by my Style that his Brother was as happy as a Lover cou'd be made by a kind Mi&s;tre&s;s, and thereupon re|&s;olves to &s;upply his place, and per&s;onate the happy Man. <HI>I</HI> &s;u&s;pected what u&s;e he might make of my Letter, and had therefore dre&s;s'd one of my Maids in a &s;uit of tho&s;e Cloaths <HI>I</HI> of|ten wore, with Orders to my Maid <HI>Zibelline</HI> to pay her the &s;ame Re&s;pect &s;he did to my &s;elf; they were both in&s;tructed how to behave them&s;elves upon every accident; and the Counterfeit <HI>Ti|mandra</HI> had &s;een the Earl, was truly hand&s;om, and every way qualifi'd for that part &s;he was to perform. <HI>I</HI> had cho&s;en a convenient place in
<PB N="14" REF="53"> the Field where I might &s;ee and not be &s;een, and had not waited long before <HI>I</HI> &s;aw <HI>Rucana</HI> ap|proach my Coach, his Impatiency wou'd not permit him to wait the approach of Night, not doubting but if <HI>I</HI> was as amiable as People &s;poke me, his Birth and Fortune were &s;ufficient to mount him on his Brother's Ruins. <HI>I</HI> was be|yond belief pleas'd at what <HI>I</HI> &s;aw, he made more account of my Maid than perhaps he had done of my &s;elf, he &s;wore a thou&s;and times he lov'd her, while &s;he an&s;wer'd coldly to all he &s;aid, adding that as yet &s;he did not believe any &s;uch Pa&s;&s;ion had got footing in the World, and that for her part &s;he cou'd ne're be &s;en&s;ible of a|ny &s;uch Flame for the Hand&s;ome&s;t Man in the World: No, Madam! (cry'd the Earl inter|rupting her, and pulling out my Letter) <HI>I</HI> pre|&s;ume you writ this obliging Billet to the hap|py <HI>Adra&s;tus,</HI> and <HI>I</HI> &s;ee no Rea&s;on why he ought to be preferr'd to an elder Brother, to whom he is in all things inferior. <HI>Ca&s;mia</HI> (for that was the Maid's Name,) an&s;wer'd &s;he had &s;een <HI>A|dra&s;tus,</HI> and that &s;he thought him infinitely be|yond him who &s;tyl'd him&s;elf his Brother, but that &s;he ne're felt a Flame for him, nor did her Soul di&s;tingui&s;h him from other men, and that the Letter he &s;poke of was none of hers; of this &s;he gave him what a&s;&s;urances Oaths cou'd give; he cou'd not chu&s;e but believe a Woman who &s;wore &s;o unfeignedly, and at la&s;t concludes his Brother Courted a <HI>Timandra,</HI> but not that one he &s;poke to; this thought gave him in a moment &s;tore of hopes, then addre&s;&s;ing him&s;elf to his Mi&s;tre&s;s with a &s;ubmi&s;&s;ive tone, Madam, (&s;aid he) <HI>I</HI> beg a thou&s;and pardons for that unju&s;t o|pinion
<PB N="15" REF="53"> <HI>I</HI> had conceiv'd, your Beauty made me ea&s;ily believe you the &s;ame my Brother ador'd; but &s;ince it is not &s;o, let me hope my happine&s;s the greater, becau&s;e you are not prepo&s;&s;e&s;t in Favours of another; if it be my misfortune to be le&s;s in your e&s;teem than the young <HI>Adra&s;tus, I</HI> hope time and my en&s;uing Services may rai&s;e me &s;ome &s;teps beyond him. <HI>Ca&s;mia</HI> catch'd Oc|ca&s;ion by the foretop, and laying her indiffe|rency a&s;ide, tells him that Fame &s;poke &s;uffici|ently on the Earl of <HI>Rucana</HI>'s behalf, that he was a Servant the hand&s;ome&s;t Lady in <HI>Capac</HI> might be proud of, and that tho' &s;he found her Heart nothing inclinable to Love, yet if time &s;hou'd &s;how his Pa&s;&s;ion the &s;ame he now &s;wore it was, he might perhaps o'recome that indiffe|rency, which every Man had hitherto met with from her. The Earl o'rejoy'd at this &s;udden change, made a thou&s;and Prote&s;tations of invio|lable Fidelity, &s;wore that his Heart was never before engag'd, and that it &s;hou'd for ever wear the Chains of the fair <HI>Timandra,</HI> who alone was Mi&s;tre&s;s of tho&s;e Charms that cou'd make it a Pri&s;oner. The Coach was &s;o nigh me, that <HI>I</HI> cou'd hear ev'ry word di&s;tinctly, and you may a&s;&s;ure your &s;elf, Madam, <HI>I</HI> was &s;en&s;ibly pleas'd to &s;ee the Comedy Acted, in which my Maid perform'd her part to my wi&s;h. The Earl was proud of his imaginary &s;ucce&s;s, and (&s;he not forbidding him that happine&s;s) ki&s;s'd her hand a thou&s;and times with the greate&s;t tran&s;port imaginable, pro|te&s;ting he thought him&s;elf the happie&s;t of men. While he continu'd in this exta&s;ie, <HI>I</HI> cou'd &s;ee a Gentleman attended by one Servant &s;teal &s;oft|ly towards my Coach, li&s;ten &s;ome minutes, and
<PB N="16" REF="54"> then retire, where he plac'd him&s;elf behind Tree, unknown to any but my &s;elf; <HI>I</HI> cou'd have wi&s;h'd the Conference had ended &s;ooner, the invi&s;ible Gentleman &s;aw who&s;e hand the Earl ki&s;s'd, and doubtle&s;s concluded it mine, by the Livery of my Coach; and was the more Con|firm'd when he heard <HI>Zibelline</HI>'s Voice, with which he was well acquainted. <HI>I</HI> was per&s;wa|ded it could be no other than the young <HI>A|dra&s;tus,</HI> drawn thither by his Jealou&s;ie, and whom <HI>I</HI> re&s;olv'd to puni&s;h next Morning for his Di&s;|obedience. But <HI>I</HI> &s;oon perceiv'd my Error; for the Earl had no &s;ooner left my Maid (who or|der'd the Coachman to drive immediately home) than <HI>I</HI> cou'd &s;ee the Gentleman leap &s;uddenly from behind the tree, and meet <HI>Rucana</HI> almo&s;t in the &s;ame place where the Coach had left him. Sir (cry'd he) <HI>I</HI> have been a witne&s;s of your happine&s;s. <HI>Timandra</HI> prefers you to all men living. And tho' <HI>I</HI> have long ador'd her with a Pa&s;&s;ion infinitely beyond what you are capable of, yet <HI>I</HI> cou'd ne're find tho&s;e returns You are my happy Rival, and it now remains we &s;hou'd de|cide with our Swords, which is he who be&s;t de|&s;erves tho&s;e Favours blind Love throws upon you, without re&s;pect to merit.<HI>&mdash;I</HI> pre&s;ently call'd to mind who&s;e Voice it was, and found it to be the Duke of <HI>Minoya's, I</HI> was ready to run in between 'em to prevent that quarrel <HI>I</HI> already &s;aw commenc'd; but then <HI>I</HI> con&s;ider'd how far <HI>I</HI> endangered my Reputation, &s;hou'd it be known <HI>I</HI> was in the Fields with two &s;uch men as <HI>Rucana</HI> and <HI>Minoya,</HI> at &s;o un&s;ea&s;onable an hour. However they took but little time for deliberation; for the Earl, without examining with whom he fought;
<PB N="17" REF="54"> us'd his utmo&s;t Art and Strength to Cha&s;ti&s;e the in&s;olence of an Enemy, who had &s;o boldly a&s;|&s;aulted him. In a little time (to my infinite a|mazement) I &s;aw the Duke fall, while his Ser|vant (who fought with the Earl's) meeting with wor&s;e fortune, tumbled down dead at the feet of his Ma&s;ter.</P>
<P><HI>Rucana</HI> put up his Sword, and immediately de|parted the Field: He had receiv'd no wounds, nor was his Page's fortune le&s;s; &s;o that when he came home, <HI>Adra&s;tus</HI> &s;aw no &s;igns about him of that Tragedy he had been acting. I remain'd almo&s;t motionle&s;s with fear, I repented a thou|&s;and times the folly I had committed, I wi&s;h'd I had never Written to <HI>Adra&s;tus,</HI> and was even ready to dye with grief when <HI>Zibelline</HI> arriv'd; I conceal'd my trouble as much as po&s;&s;ible, and &s;he having the Key of the Back door that gave us entry to the Garden, we &s;oon reach'd the Hou&s;e undi&s;cover'd by any. I concluded <HI>Minoya</HI> a dead Man, and therefore us'd no care for his pre&s;erva|tion. I recommended &s;ecre&s;ie to <HI>Zibelline</HI> and <HI>Ca&s;mia,</HI> as to the Enterview with the Earl; but did not mention the Combat, becau&s;e they knew nothing of it. In the morning <HI>Adra&s;tus</HI> came to &s;ee me, and told me the Duke of <HI>Minoya</HI> was de&s;perately wounded, his Servant kill'd, and both found in the Field; that it was not known with whom he fought, but that his Servants ga|ther'd from &s;ome of his words, he had receiv'd his Wounds for a Mi&s;tre&s;s of con&s;iderable quality. I was glad at what <HI>Adra&s;tus</HI> told me; becau&s;e I found the Duke had not only conceal'd my name, but was likewi&s;e ignorant of him he deem'd his Rival. Thus we &s;pent part of the morning in re|flecting
<PB N="18" REF="55"> upon the Accident; and that ended, the charming Youth began to enquire into the cau&s;e of his Bani&s;hment: I wou'd not tell him why I had u&s;ed him &s;o, and he departed very melan|choly. When he was gone, I began to grieve for him, remembring the pains this har&s;h u&s;age wou'd bring him: I &s;traight cou'd feel them all my own, and con&s;ulting my love, not Rea&s;on I &s;ent for him back again; he &s;oon return'd, and found my humour much alter'd to his advantage. He was infinitely o'rejoy'd, and prote&s;ted that when he went out of my Chamber, he thought to have dy'd with the thoughts of my Indiffe|rency: He went home he knew not how, and that when my me&s;&s;age came to him he turn'd Sceptick, and doubted much if he was awake: This he &s;poke with an Air &s;o pa&s;&s;ionate, he per|fectly charm'd me, I lov'd and was belov'd; we were alone, and I cou'd not forbear to te&s;tifie my Joy, Love wanton'd in my eyes, and eager wi&s;hes o'rerul'd my nodding Virtue. He well knew what 'twas to be inflam'd: He told me a thou&s;and en|dearing things, and printed ki&s;&s;es at each word he &s;poke. We were &s;itting upon the Beds &s;ide, it was yet early in the morning, and I had no|thing upon me but a loo&s;e Night-Gown, and one Petticoat of a thin Silk. The amorous young Man commended every thing about me; my Limbs I mu&s;t confe&s;s &s;hone through the tran&s;pa|rent Cloth, and fed his fancy with a thou&s;and Charms: He cla&s;pt me gently in his trembling Arms, faulter'd in his Speech, and &s;wore he dy'd for me; that it was impo&s;&s;ible to endure the vi|olent &s;eparation from a Heav'n in view, and that now he mu&s;t be ble&s;s'd or for ever wretch|ed;
<PB N="19" REF="55"> that he fear'd his Brother's pretences, and nothing cou'd &s;ecure him but a flame equal to that of his own. 'Tis needle&s;s, Madam, to tell you more. I lov'd him, and cou'd deny him no|thing. De&s;ire grew wild, fears (the curs'd allays of Love) fled: I dream't of Joys and plea&s;ures yet unknown, my loo&s;ned Soul &s;eem'd ju&s;t upon the wing, and I at la&s;t lay yielding, melting, trem|bling in his Arms; his Soul &s;at hovering o're his Balmy Lips, Love darted from his Eyes, and all the Charms of that young God were in him. Oh! kind Heav'n! let me ever remember all tho&s;e tender Vows he made while he lay panting and breathle&s;s by my &s;ide, and blu&s;h'd at what was pa&s;t; then &s;trove to bring the ha&s;ty Joy again. Thus he obtain'd that favour, which ne're be|&s;tow'd in Youth, is frozen up by Icy Age, and lyes unregarded, till we are render'd incapable of tho&s;e Ble&s;&s;ings men wou'd give, and Women can receive. We gave mutual a&s;&s;urances of per|petual fidelity, and parted both of us &s;atisfied of others Love.</P>
<LG>
<L>Some Trees &s;eem plea&s;ant, when they fir&s;t &s;et out,</L>
<L>We give them Stays le&s;t Winds &s;hou'd &s;hake the Root.</L>
<L>But in few days they &s;hoot their boughs &s;o far,</L>
<L>That all the Herbs beneath them wither'd are:</L>
<L>That ground which gave them Life they now de|&s;troy;</L>
<L>Stand proudly up, and in the conque&s;t joy.</L>
<L>So Love at fir&s;t all gay, all &s;oft appears,</L>
<L>And next day chang'd to jealou&s;ies and fears:</L>
<L>'Tis like wild fires, afar &s;hows happine&s;s,</L>
<L>But if approach'd grows in a moment le&s;s.</L>
<PB N="20" REF="56">
<L> A Plea&s;ure 'tis before 'tis fully known,</L>
<L>And that once o're it is in&s;ipid grown;</L>
<L>It cheats the di&s;tant eye, and &s;eems a Bli&s;s,</L>
<L>But if 'tis catch'd we hate the by pa&s;t wi&s;h.</L>
<L>Then wonder why with &s;o much pain we &s;ought</L>
<L>A thing, which more allay than joy has brought.</L>
<L>For that which &s;hin'd unto the Love-&s;ick eye,</L>
<L>Now &s;hows all Ru&s;t, all homely, when 'tis nigh.</L>
</LG>
<P>The&s;e thoughts did not then po&s;&s;e&s;s me, tho' I found the truth of them too late, and 'twas when my misfortunes gave me melancholy hours, that my Mu&s;e &s;ung &s;o gravely.</P>
<P>The Earl came privately, and paid his Re|&s;pects to the &s;uppos'd <HI>Timandra;</HI> he concluded him&s;elf happy from what the Duke told him, and courted with a brisker Air than was na|tural to him; I had order'd <HI>Ca&s;mia</HI> &s;till to deceive him. He was of a clo&s;e temper, tru&s;ted no Man with what was by him&s;elf reputed worthy of Secre&s;ie; and when he &s;aw his Mi&s;tre&s;s, he came without Attendants. About this time <HI>A|dra&s;tus,</HI> who lov'd not the Earl's melancholy hu|mour, left his hou&s;e, and cho&s;e Lodgings for him|&s;elf, which chanc'd to be very nigh tho&s;e of the Duke of <HI>Minoya's,</HI> and therefore often paid him a vi&s;it during his &s;ickne&s;s. <HI>Adra&s;tus</HI> was of an oblig|ing temper; and &s;o far gain'd the Duke's e&s;teem, that he cou'd never be ea&s;ie when without him. While he, to repay this kindne&s;s, was &s;eldom ab|&s;ent, but when his Love to me requir'd it. We liv'd very happy, and <HI>Adra&s;tus</HI> had nothing to fear or complain of: He po&s;&s;e&s;s'd all that Love and Beauty could be&s;tow, without the pro&s;pect of a coming ill. Sometimes he would tell me he
<PB N="21" REF="56"> heard of his Brother's vi&s;its to me; but I a&s;&s;ur'd him I had never &s;een him, and &s;oon calm'd tho&s;e &s;torms his growing Jealou&s;ies had rais'd.</P>
<P>One day when he came to wait upon the Duke, he found him wor&s;e than he had been for &s;ome days, and judging it the effect of &s;omething more than his wounds, beg'd he wou'd impart the cau&s;e. <HI>Minoya,</HI> after he had Commanded his Servants to quit the Room; my Dear <HI>Adra&s;tus</HI> (&s;aid he) tho&s;e wounds you &s;ee are nothing, if compar'd with the Torments of my Soul, I Love the Young Marchione&s;s of <HI>Huyana,</HI> I &s;aw her that night I came to <HI>Capac,</HI> and have wore her Chains ever &s;ince, who&s;e weight is nothing yet dimini&s;h'd; tho I've &s;een others happy, even then when &s;he &s;trove to per&s;uade me &s;he ne're had nor could love any Man. <HI>Adra&s;tus</HI> was &s;urpiz'd at what he heard, and if the Duke had in the lea&s;t &s;u&s;pected him, he wou'd have read in his face-how much he was intere&s;ted in the Story. He dur&s;t &s;carce de&s;ire him to fini&s;h what he had begun, &s;o much he fear'd to be acquaint|ed with the Infidelity of her he lov'd. But the other to &s;ave him that labour proceeded, and in few words told him all that concern'd the En|counter he had that Evening he receiv'd his Wounds. <HI>Adra&s;tus</HI> &s;oon believ'd 'twas his Brother, he remember'd 'twas the &s;ame day in which he had lo&s;t my Letter, calls to mind the ab&s;ence I enjoyn'd him; and at la&s;t concludes me guilty. When men once become Ma&s;ters by Enjoyment, Mole-Hills appear Mountains, and that which before cou'd render them happy, now they look upon as a thing u&s;ele&s;s and injurious to their repo&s;e; they think Women &s;hou'd from
<PB N="22" REF="57"> that moment abandon all Appetites but tho&s;e they entertain for them. And like wretched Mi&s;ers gra&s;p at all, then &s;igh when they can hold no more, and murmur becau&s;e another may enjoy what they a|lone wou'd po&s;&s;e&s;s. The Jealous <HI>Adra&s;tus</HI> hides his pain as much as po&s;&s;ible from the Duke, and tells him that &s;he whom he ador'd was truly the hand|&s;ome&s;t Woman in <HI>Capac,</HI> and one who wou'd in time regard the Services of a Prince, who me|rited the e&s;teem of all Mankind; that he had &s;e|veral times &s;een me when his Father was alive, and that he &s;hou'd not fail to do him &s;ome good Offices upon the &s;mall acquaintance he had, did not a very urgent bu&s;ine&s;s command his ab&s;ence for &s;ome time. The Duke gave him a thou&s;and thanks for his kind offer, and in the mean time, tho' he was &s;orry for his departure, wi&s;h'd him a good Journey. <HI>Adra&s;tus</HI> went to his Lodgings, po&s;&s;e&s;s'd with Love, Anger, Jealou&s;ie, and De|&s;pair; thus pa&s;&s;ion o're-rul'd his Judgment, and in that weakne&s;s he &s;ent me this Letter.</P>
<LETTER LANG="eng">
<OPENER><SALUTE>Madam,</SALUTE></OPENER>
<P><HI>I'M amaz'd to find in the fair</HI> Timandra <HI>a Woman regardle&s;s of her Vows and Ho|nour, I leave you with &s;orrow, and can't longer &s;tay in a place where I &s;ee a Woman I have &s;o con&s;tantly lov'd, po&s;&s;e&s;s'd by one that cou'd ne|ver pretend to &s;o great a happine&s;s by his Servi|ces, whatever bis Birth might be to his advantage; I will not offer to trouble you with a tedious reci|tal how your Infidelity came to my knowledge, let it &s;uffice that (to my infinite &s;orrow) I know too</HI>
<PB N="23" REF="57"> <HI>much, either for your Honour, or my own Sati&s;|faction&punc;</HI></P>
<CLOSER><SIGNED>Adra&s;tus.</SIGNED></CLOSER>
</LETTER>
<P>I was at fir&s;t all fury, I term'd him the mo&s;t ingrateful of men, my pa&s;&s;ion &s;ugge&s;ted a thou|&s;and things to me, I was &s;orry for the Happine&s;s <HI>I</HI> had given, and heartily wi&s;h'd my Love had been more moderate. But Love that &s;eldom lo&s;eth po&s;&s;e&s;&s;ion in an hone&s;t Heart, rea&s;&s;umes his Empire, and repre&s;ents the mi&s;taken Lover Sorrowful, and Pa&s;&s;ionate; Jealous by a &s;eeming guilt, and de&s;perate at his own lo&s;s. <HI>I</HI> con&s;ider|ed his Letter partially, and thought there was &s;till &s;o much of Love in every line, that it &s;hone through all tho&s;e Clouds his Jealou&s;ie and Anger had contracted, and began in earne&s;t to mourn his lo&s;s; grief took place of former Joys, and <HI>I</HI> have wept &s;ometimes whole Nights, and curs'd tho&s;e Stars that forc'd me to love a Man <HI>I</HI> had &s;o many rea&s;ons to pur&s;ue with my hatred. My Mother wonder'd what might work this &s;ud|dain alteration in my humour; and imagin'd my grief aro&s;e from the Duke of <HI>Minoya</HI>'s mi&s;|fortune, and doubted not but that <HI>I</HI> lov'd him; for by the help of my Maid <HI>Zibelline, Adra&s;tus</HI> was &s;eldom &s;een come or go from my Hou&s;e, &s;o that &s;he neither &s;u&s;pected him nor the Earl, who was &s;till very cautious in his vi&s;its. <HI>I</HI> was wil|ling (the better to conceal my misfortune) to let things appear the &s;ame &s;he took them for, and in the mean time forgot not to u&s;e tho&s;e ways that promis'd any likelihood of recalling the Object of all my wi&s;hes.</P>
<PB N="24" REF="58">
<P> One Night while <HI>I</HI> &s;at all alone in my Cham|ber, <HI>I</HI> could hear &s;oft whi&s;pers at the Door; my Curio&s;ity was augmented when <HI>I</HI> thought, it re|&s;embled the Earl of <HI>Rucana</HI>'s Voice; when <HI>I</HI> had look'd through the Key-hole, <HI>I</HI> found <HI>I</HI> had not judg'd ami&s;s. He was looking very earne&s;t|ly upon his &s;uppo&s;ed <HI>Timandra;</HI> while &s;he on the other hand &s;eem'd not to curb his hopes, for he cou'd ea&s;ily read a fire in her Eyes equal to his own. However &s;he beg'd that this Night he wou'd abreviate his di&s;cour&s;e; adding, &s;he was afraid her Mother might find him in the Hou&s;e. He an&s;wered, that he cou'd not leave her &s;o &s;oon, her Mother was then a-bed, and that all &s;he urg'd for his departure, was not of force &s;uffici|ent to make him delay the po&s;&s;e&s;&s;ion of a Bli&s;s he had &s;o long promis'd to him&s;elf. In the end &s;he was o'recome, and &s;uffer'd her &s;elf to be led along the Gallery, and down a pair of back Stairs into the Garden, where they enter'd a Chamber in which <HI>I</HI> often lay when the Sea&s;on was exce&s;&s;ively hot: My Mother's Apartment was very nigh to it, and had a Balcony from her dining Room exactly oppo&s;ite to the Cham|ber Door. <HI>I</HI> wanted to &s;ee the Earl's manner of Court&s;hip, and long'd to know upon what terms he &s;tood with his <HI>Timandra:</HI> (My grief for the ab&s;ence of my Lover having long kept me from the knowledge of what I had formerly us'd for my diver&s;ion) And therefore <HI>I</HI> laid all Con&s;i|derations of danger a&s;ide, and &s;tole privately after them. They &s;eated them&s;elves at fir&s;t fa|miliarly upon the Bed, and <HI>I</HI> cou'd &s;oon perceive more between 'em than a nice Virtue cou'd well allow. I was heartily di&s;pleas'd at what <HI>Ca&s;mia</HI>
<PB N="25" REF="58"> did, and tho' the Earl was a clo&s;e minded Man, I was afraid Stones and Bu&s;hes might have Ears to di&s;clo&s;e the intrigue. I wi&s;h'd he had known whom he lov'd, and was ju&s;t about to &s;how him his errour, when they aro&s;e, and went &s;oftly to that part of the Garden where &s;he ordinarily ad|mitted him. I enter'd the Room immediately; but good Gods! how much was I amaz'd, when I &s;aw my Mother had got there before me; having enter'd at the &s;ame Door from which they went out: She was pa&s;&s;ionate even to madne&s;s, and tho' I knew my &s;elf innocent, yet I had &s;carce the power to tell her &s;o; &s;he told me the Bed be&s;poke &s;ome am'rous dalliance; that &s;he had &s;een me enter, and thereupon drawing the Curtains a&s;ide, &s;he took up the Earl's Pocket Book, which he unfortunately had dropp'd. I was a maz'd at the accident, and pre&s;ently &s;aw my Letter to <HI>Adra&s;tus</HI> taken out of it Daugh|ter &s;aid &s;he, (looking furiou&s;ly upon me) are the&s;e the effects of that care <HI>I</HI> have had of you? Is this the Journey <HI>Adra&s;tus</HI> has undertaken? Never &s;ee me more, you have abandon'd Virtue, you have ruin'd your Fortune, and, in a Word, are become the &s;corn of your Sex This &s;aid, &s;he flung immediately out at the Back door, which &s;tood half open, not doubting but that <HI>Adra&s;tus</HI> was gone that way; &s;he found <HI>Ca&s;mia</HI> returning, and concluded I had &s;ent her to &s;how him the way. The Maid was infinitely &s;urpris'd at &s;o unexpected a meeting, and falling upon her knees, fir&s;t begs a thou&s;and Pardons, and then tells the whole truth of the matter. This &s;erves her not in any &s;tead, my Mother a&s;&s;ures her &s;elf I'm guilty, and believes that this &s;tory had been
<PB N="26" REF="59"> hand&s;omely contriv'd to be made u&s;e of upon the fir&s;t di&s;covery, and &s;o in&s;tantly thru&s;t her out of Doors, to find new Lodgings, and a new Mi&s;tre&s;s. When &s;he came back to me, &s;he found me drown'd in Tears, tho' they proceeded more from the lo&s;s of <HI>Adra&s;tus,</HI> than from my new misfortune, &s;he &s;oon told me how &s;he had &s;erv'd my Confident, (as &s;he call'd her); adding (&s;eeing me about to &s;peak) that I &s;hou'd not en|deavour to ju&s;tifie my &s;elf, becau&s;e my guilt was too obvious to tho&s;e of the lea&s;t judgment, and &s;o left me to my &s;oliloquies.</P>
<P>I was not ignorant of my Mother's humour, and therefore (being awak'd from that &s;urpri&s;e into which her pre&s;ence had ca&s;t me) without further reflections on the matter, went to Bed. There it was that I began narrowly to &s;earch into my own Circum&s;tances, and found that tho' I was innocent of what was then laid to my Charge, yet my Conduct had been &s;uch as de|&s;erv'd reproof. I &s;aw no hopes of <HI>Adra&s;tus</HI> his return, and fear'd the Earl might boa&s;t of an ima|ginary Conque&s;t, to tho&s;e who wou'd apprehend it real: The&s;e and a thou&s;and &s;uch thoughts po&s;&s;e&s;s'd me; when as Day began to break, I cou'd hear &s;ome body knock gently at my Door. I &s;oon quitted my Bed, and having open'd it (for melancholy had &s;o &s;eiz'd me, I ne're examin'd who it was, nor did I remember the want of my Night-gown). A Gentleman caught me in his Arms, my Charming Fair (cry'd he in a tran&s;port, and forcing a ki&s;s from me) how oft have I wi&s;h'd for this happy minute. He &s;aid no more, his &s;ighs, &s;hort breathings, and eager embraces &s;erv'd to convince me how much he
<PB N="27" REF="59"> wanted that happine&s;s he now thought him&s;elf almo&s;t Ma&s;ter of. However I was ju&s;t ready to cry out, when my fears on a &s;uddain interpos'd, and opportunely told me, that by &s;o doing I &s;hou'd confirm my Mother in her &s;u&s;picions; in this thought I forc'd my &s;elf from his Arms, and leap'd into the Bed. He follow'd with the trembling &s;teps of a burning Lover, and was beginning to undre&s;s, when I (with more mo|deration than the accident cou'd well allow) told him that the calmne&s;s with which <HI>I</HI> receiv'd him proceeded more from a tenderne&s;s of my own Reputation, than Compliance to his pa&s;&s;ion, o|therwi&s;e he might &s;oon have felt the effects of that rudene&s;s of which no di&s;creet Per&s;on wou'd be guilty. He &s;oon knew by my voice that it was not his belov'd <HI>Timandra</HI> (for 'twas the Earl) and &s;o without the lea&s;t Apology with|drew.</P>
<P>This Accident augmented my grief; a thou|&s;and times did I wi&s;h I had ne're been guilty of that fatal interview at the Lake, it lo&s;t me the Man I lov'd, and who (notwith&s;tanding of his ingratitude) was &s;till dear to me as Life it &s;elf: it had brought the Duke's Wounds, and the Earl's addre&s;&s;es to my Maid, which now I found more dang'rous than if they had been to my &s;elf. In the Morning I told <HI>Zibelline</HI> what had hap|ned, who immediately found out that Relief I &s;o much wi&s;h'd.</P>
<P>She pre&s;ently &s;ent for <HI>Ca&s;mia,</HI> and after we had deliberately weigh'd the bu&s;ine&s;s, there was a Billet-deux privately convey'd to the Earl, in which he was bid come at Night, and at the u&s;ual hour. He fail'd not in his Obedience, and the
<PB N="28" REF="60"> time was no &s;ooner come, than <HI>I</HI> cou'd hear him upon the Stairs. His Mi&s;tre&s;s pre&s;ently gave him admittance, and play'd that part <HI>I</HI> had en|joyn'd her to the Life. Madam, I'm &s;o much yours that I won't offer to conceal the lea&s;t of my thoughts, however faulty you may find them; I mu&s;t confe&s;s, <HI>I</HI> then wi&s;h'd he had lov'd the real <HI>Timandra.</HI> His Words were very tender, Love bask'd and wanton'd in his Eyes, and <HI>I</HI> cou'd hear him &s;ay all tho&s;e things we take for indubi|table &s;igns of a violent and tender flame. But no longer to detain you on this Subject, know, that next Morning they were Marry'd. I had &s;o order'd it (le&s;t a quick di&s;covery might be incon|venient) that they &s;hou'd for &s;ome time Lodge in my own Appartment, which in a little time produc'd a very odd Adventure. And 'twas thus.</P>
<P>My Maid <HI>Zibelline</HI> lay next door to my Chamber (which the Earl then po&s;&s;e&s;s'd, tho' privately) and had a Lover unknown to me, who it &s;eems ador'd his Godde&s;s in the dark, is the Ancients did <HI>Bacchus</HI> in the night. The unknown happy-Lover, that night after the Mar|riage, came to perform his ordinary Devotions, and being a &s;tranger to the Hou&s;e, without the help of Lights &s;tumbl'd into that of the Earl's. <HI>Ca&s;mia</HI> (or rather the Counte&s;s of <HI>Rucana)</HI> you may be &s;ure was kept awake with the hopes of a coming Bli&s;s; but dream't of nothing more than her Husband. While he (who was accu&s;tom'd to &s;ilence) leap'd into the Bed without many words. In the mean time the Earl, who laid ne|ver been in his new Room (that morning in which he catch'd me naked excepted) fairly
<PB N="29" REF="60"> dropt into that of <HI>Zibelline's,</HI> and &s;o to Bed. Thus po&s;ted, the four Lovers &s;pent the Night happy in their ignorance. The Earl had upon him all the fervour and heat of a young Bride|groom, and the other all the Plea&s;ures of a &s;tol'n Bli&s;s. But Day approaching, <HI>Zibelline</HI> de&s;ir'd her Lover (or rather <HI>Rucana)</HI> to quit the Bed. He who was now marry'd, and con&s;equently &s;ecure of his Mi&s;tre&s;s's favours, began already to play the Husband; that is, lo&s;e all re&s;pect and good manners; &s;wore he wou'd not, nor cou'd he then leave &s;o many Joys unfini&s;h'd, of that number he had promis'd to him&s;elf, without a torment equal to that of Death: And that no Circum|&s;tances what&s;oever were of force enough to rob a Husband of his Wife, that Formalities were now of no u&s;e, and &s;he might frankly own her Marriage to all the World. The Maid was be|yond expre&s;&s;ion &s;urpris'd at what &s;he heard, and pre&s;ently under&s;tood who it was that &s;poke, and whom he meant; but being of a prompt and ready Wit, counterfeited the voice of the Coun|te&s;s, and, after &s;ome few Embraces and kind Ar|guments, at la&s;t prevail'd. <HI>Zibelline's</HI> Lover, who remember'd with what hazard he &s;tole his favours, made no delays, and came out of the Chamber ju&s;t as the Earl was pa&s;&s;ing by the Door, and &s;tumbling upon him, concludes him&s;elf betray'd, and the Reputation of his Mi&s;tre&s;s in evident dan|ger. But endeavouring to make his e&s;cape, he was forc'd to tumble <HI>Rucana</HI> down &s;tairs, to clear his pa&s;&s;age. The Earl no &s;ooner came to him|&s;elf, than he as &s;oon a&s;cended, but by degrees, not as he went down; and per&s;wading him&s;elf that he who had thus &s;erv'd him, was &s;ome fa|vourite
<PB N="30" REF="61"> of his Wife's, enters her Room in a fury, much akin to a real madne&s;s. She, who was &s;ur|pris'd to &s;ee him return &s;o &s;oon, very kindly ask'd what was the matter? adding, that ju&s;t now he had left her, without the happine&s;s of a word at parting; and that the whole Night was &s;pent in &s;ilence, at which &s;he could not chu&s;e but wonder, &s;ince it argu'd that his Lord&s;hip's Love did not &s;uit with his pa&s;t Prote&s;tations. Ha (cry'd he) did I leave you without words? No, Madam, you urg'd my departure frequently. And now it is I under&s;tand why you did &s;o. Your Lover came too &s;oon, and I &s;taid too long, either for his Happine&s;s or my own. My Mo|ther (whom the Earl's fall had awak'd) with a Candle in her hand, ju&s;t as he pronounced the la&s;t words, enter'd, crying out, Heav'ns! where was her Daughter? The Earl, raving an&s;wer'd, here! And I'm &s;orry, Madam, you look'd no better to her Education, &s;ince I am de&s;tin'd to be the unhappy Man, that mu&s;t undergo that puni&s;hment your neglect de&s;erv'd. She view'd him &s;eriou&s;ly, and knowing who it was, ask'd him what he meant, and if he was awake? if &s;o, what had brought him to her Hou&s;e at an hour &s;o un&s;ea&s;onable? He bids her enquire of her Daughter, and points to the Bed. She told him he &s;till dream't, and that &s;he cou'd ea|&s;ily di&s;tingui&s;h her Daughter from one of her Maids: But withal ask'd the trembling and af|frighted <HI>Ca&s;mia,</HI> how &s;he came there, and if &s;he remember'd what had pa&s;t the preceeding Night? And thereupon (giving way to her pa&s;&s;ion) pulls the poor Counte&s;s by the Hair from the Bed, where &s;he had lain &s;ilent, and
<PB N="31" REF="61"> half dead with fear. The Earl (tho' o're|whelm'd with Jealou&s;ie) cou'd not &s;ee his Wife &s;o ill us'd, and therefore reliev'd her from the paw of the Lyone&s;s. In the mean time, <HI>Zibel|line</HI> had awak'd me, and (di&s;&s;embling her know|ledge of the cau&s;e) told me the Hou&s;e was all in an uproar: I &s;oon got up, and enter'd the Room ju&s;t as <HI>Rucana</HI> had reliev'd the di&s;tre&s;s'd fair one. My Mother, as &s;oon as &s;he &s;aw me; ask'd if I was a &s;tranger to the cau&s;e of all this confu&s;ion, and if I held a Corre&s;pondence with the Earl, equal to that I did with <HI>Adra&s;tus.</HI> I told her I had never &s;een <HI>Rucana;</HI> but was in|form'd, he had endeavour'd to debauch one of my Maids; I hop'd &s;he did not doubt my Vir|tue, and that my Conduct had been &s;uch, as be|came hers and the Marque&s;s of <HI>Huyana</HI>'s Daugh|ter. The Earl (who had hearkned with won|der and amazement) &s;oon found how he had been impos'd upon; and was at fir&s;t confounded, and oppre&s;s'd with &s;hame and anger: But then growing calm, and eying his Wife, who lay drown'd in tears with all her Beautys open to his view; his fury fled, Love pleads in her behalf, and a thou&s;and tender thoughts po&s;&s;e&s;s'd his Soul. He beheld a Woman whom he long had lov'd; half naked, weeping, pro&s;trate at his feet, and all her Sexes be&s;t bewitching Charms about her. Tears dropt from his Eyes, and all the pains of love and &s;orrow jointly pre&s;t his Heart. Then rai&s;ing gently the afflicted fair one, he beg'd a thou&s;and pardons for his indi&s;creet ma|nagement, &s;wore he &s;hou'd ne're repent the hap|py mi&s;take; ki&s;s'd away her Tears, and &s;igh'd at every word. After &s;ome minutes thus &s;pent;
<PB N="32" REF="62"> he made an Apology to my Mother, for that di&s;turbances he had occa&s;ioned in the Family; then taking the Counte&s;s by the hand, led her down &s;tairs, calls a Coach, (for 'twas now day|light) and drives home, pleas'd becau&s;e he lov'd.</P>
<P>My Mother was glad to find me innocent, and her &s;elf doubly deceiv'd; and by her Joy in &s;ome mea&s;ure atton'd for the har&s;h u&s;age I had receiv'd from her the foregoing Night. <HI>Zibel|line</HI> was pleas'd with her own good &s;ucce&s;s; and I thought my &s;elf fortunate, in &s;eeing a bu&s;ine&s;s I dreaded brought to a happy exit. Thus we all went to Bed again, well &s;atisfied with what had hapen'd, and each of us big with the hopes of Fortune's continu'd &s;miles.</P>
<P>Next Day I was inform'd the Duke had quit his Room, and was able to take a turn in the Garden. The Earl's Marriage was &s;oon known, and as it happens in &s;uch ca&s;es, he was laugh'd at by the Wits, pity'd by the Hone&s;t-hearted, and commended by the Judicious, for that Mo|deration he had &s;hown in &s;o provoking a juncture; and <HI>I</HI> was by all concluded privy to the intrigue. <HI>Minoya</HI> &s;how'd his Sentiments in his Eyes, where the inward Satisfaction this acci|dent gave him vi&s;ibly appear'd: His flame is augmented with his hopes, and the removal of a Rival he thinks a &s;tep to his Happine&s;s. The&s;e plea&s;ant thoughts Contribute much to his &s;peedy Recovery, he imagin'd I was not prepo&s;&s;e&s;s'd to his prejudice, and ea&s;ily believ'd he had fought for my Maid.</P>
<P>In a few days he came to &s;ee me, and I hav|ing in &s;ome mea&s;ure laid a&s;ide the thoughts of my ingrateful Lover, receiv'd him more kindly than
<PB N="33" REF="62"> I had done before his long ab&s;ence. This in|flam'd him more; my Mother &s;econded every word he &s;poke, and 'twas impo&s;&s;ible to hold out again&s;t two &s;uch powerful A&s;&s;ailants. Yet Young <HI>Adra&s;tus</HI> took his place by turns; and tho' the pa&s;&s;ion I had for him &s;eem'd &s;ometimes dead, yet (from what thought I know not) it (like Lamps ju&s;t extingui&s;h'd) greedily catch'd hold of light, and in a moment, turn'd into a flame.</P>
<P>Thus divided, (after I had &s;een the Duke langui&s;hing for me three whole Months) I at la&s;t con&s;ented to Marry him: He was ravi&s;h'd at the wi&s;h'd-for grant; and ta&s;ted all tho&s;e Joys &s;ucce&s;sful Love imparts to Youth impatient of delays. On the other hand, I &s;aw the fatal hour approach with pain, and cou'd not think of be|ing for ever his, while <HI>Ad&s;tra&s;tus</HI> was in Being, tho' ab&s;ent and unkind; but not knowing how to recal that promi&s;e I had given, (and the Town already too bu&s;ie with my Name,) I was forc'd to confirm it by a Marriage Vow.</P>
<P>The Duke (now happy in the po&s;&s;e&s;&s;ion of her he ador'd) went &s;eldom abroad; he was unea&s;ie but when in my Company, and all his actions center'd in his Love. One Evening he told me, (Laughing) with what concern he had &s;een the Earl of <HI>Rucana</HI>'s happine&s;s, that Night he fought him, and wonder'd much how that Marriage came to pa&s;s, ask'd if the Counte&s;s was hand&s;ome, and applauded her ma|magement. I gave her tho&s;e prai&s;es her Beau|ty de&s;erv'd; and wi&s;h'd him reconcil'd to <HI>Ru|cana,</HI> becau&s;e his con&s;tant Love, after &s;o great
<PB N="34" REF="63"> a di&s;appointment, &s;poke him a Man truly noble, of a great Soul, fix'd and &s;teady in his re&s;olu|tions; generous, good natur'd, and of hone&s;t Principles. And the truth is, &s;o great a change was never known, as that which Love and Mar|riage had wrought on this Man; his Soul &s;eem'd new-moulded, and imprinted with all the marks of Virtue, Honour, and Nobility. Whate're I &s;poke was a Law, and if I had but the lea&s;t in|clination to any thing, 'twas immediately per|form'd; &s;o that my Husband next day, waited for nothing more than an opportunity of &s;peak|ing with the Earl, but finding none, at la&s;t went to his Hou&s;e. <HI>Rucana</HI> receiv'd him, and em|brac'd his friend&s;hip with all the Sincerity which Man can be Ma&s;ter of, when he pays his Devo|tions to Heaven. They di&s;cours'd long of things indifferent, and at la&s;t came to the Subject of their quarrel; where the kind Huband &s;poke &s;o advantagiou&s;ly of his Wife, that he charm'd the Duke into an exta&s;ie. She who had not forgot what once &s;he was, kept a mode&s;t humility in all her actions, look'd &s;weet and langu&s;hing, and made it her only &s;tudy how to plea&s;e the Lord of all her wi&s;hes. With this bewitch|ing &s;tate &s;he enter'd the Room, where <HI>Minoya</HI> pay'd her tho&s;e re&s;pects due to the Counte&s;s of <HI>Rucana,</HI> and the Wife of his Friend; from the Earl's di&s;cour&s;e, he had form'd a lovely Idea of this hppy fair one, and was plea&s;antly &s;ur|pris'd, to &s;ee how far the &s;weet Original out-did that Picture he had newly drawn. He intended at fir&s;t no more than a &s;hort vi&s;it; but the Earl's kindne&s;s, and the Charms of his Wife, made him forget that Re&s;olution. When he
<PB N="35" REF="63"> came home, his wonted joys flag'd, his appetite &s;eem'd pal'd, he look'd unea&s;ie, as if &s;ome &s;ud|den illne&s;s had &s;eiz'd him; thought much, &s;poke little, and the torments of his Soul (after ma|ny endeavours to hide them) were at la&s;t con|&s;picuous. I was &s;en&s;ibly griev'd at this new mi&s;|fortune, tho' I yet knew not what it was; I us'd all the moving Arts of Hone&s;t Love to Charm him into mirth, and wre&s;tled even with vritue how to plea&s;e.</P>
<P>He &s;till continues all Ice; re&s;tle&s;s in his thoughts, divided from him&s;elf, forgetting all his former Vows and me. He went every day to <HI>Rucana</HI>'s, return'd more cold, and all the World at la&s;t took notice of it. I knew my &s;elf Young and Hand&s;om, fitted by Nature to inflame de&s;ire; and was all madne&s;s, at the thoughts of lo&s;ing an Heart I had begun to value in earne&s;t; but that which mo&s;t &s;en&s;i|bly di&s;pleas'd me was, to find my &s;elf aban|don'd for one that had been my Servant, and whom (by my own folly) I had advanc'd to all Happine&s;s &s;he then po&s;&s;e&s;s'd.</P>
<P>Things were thus, when my Melancholy and the calm Evening (the Duke being then at <HI>Ru|cana</HI>'s) invited me to a walk in the Garden. There it was I began to remember my joys pa&s;t, the Cypre&s;s Trees brought the fugitive <HI>A|dra&s;tus</HI> to my view, with all his Charms about him, and repre&s;ented the Duke the mo&s;t in|grateful of men; Revenge &s;poke Peace to my Soul, and a thou&s;and different re&s;olutions (the effects of my re&s;tle&s;s mind) po&s;&s;e&s;s'd me, and next moment were de&s;troy'd by that &s;ame power which gave them fir&s;t a Being. Thus
<PB N="36" REF="64"> my Heart at la&s;t beat it &s;elf to re&s;t; and while I lay upon a Mo&s;&s;y Bank, and all my &s;orrows chain'd in peaceful &s;lumbers; I dream't (nay, methought it was no dream, &s;uch &s;trong im|pre&s;&s;ions the ble&s;t Vi&s;ion made) my ab&s;ent Lo|ver &s;ighing by me lay, all drown'd in &s;orrow for his lo&s;s, wept, then wi&s;h'd me fal&s;e, &s;o I but lov'd him now. I wak'd, but 'twas to &s;ee what my Eyes had often long'd for. The love|ly Youth threw him&s;elf at my feet, gaz'd, and &s;igh'd, and labour'd with his pain. My &s;orrow equal'd his, and tho' I oft had wi&s;h'd the wand'rer back, the cruel thought of being his no more da&s;ht all my Joys, and turn'd them into Tears. Thus on each other for a while we gaz'd, breath'd &s;hort, and trembled while we &s;trove to &s;peak. At la&s;t his Courage bore away his grief, and loo&s;ened by degrees, that &s;oft be|witching Tongue, who&s;e Eloquence &s;o often had undone me; and &s;aid, Can you be mine no more? Can you be cruel to a repenting Sinner, who for pardon &s;ues, and damn me to a new Hell of ab&s;ence, more la&s;ting than the fir&s;t? Is <HI>Adra&s;tus</HI> quite forgot? And mu&s;t the Duke po&s;&s;e&s;s a Heav'n alone? Ah! (cry'd I! when my Tears wou'd give me leave to &s;peak) I Love and fear my own weakne&s;s; but as you tender my future Happine&s;s, ask no more than a Virtu|ous Wife &s;hou'd give. Has the Dutche&s;s of <HI>Minoya</HI> nothing of <HI>Timandra</HI> in her, (reply'd he, interrupting me) and can you re&s;olve to &s;ee me dye? I beg'd with Tears he'd urge his Love no more; and at la&s;t, promi&s;ing to meet him there next Evening, we parted.</P>
<PB N="37" REF="64">
<P> When the Duke came home, I found his hu|mour the &s;ame it had been for &s;ome Months pre|ceeding. However, I did not lay his indiffe|rency in that ballance it formerly held; my Love grew lighter, and that e&s;teem I had for him, became hourly le&s;s. Next Evening <HI>A|dra&s;tus</HI> came, and I fail'd not to meet him; his Soul &s;eem'd more at re&s;t, but his Love the &s;ame. After &s;ome &s;erious di&s;cour&s;e, I ask'd him how he had &s;pent the time of his ab&s;ence, and if no new Beauty had raz'd me from his me|mory. The lovely Penitent cou'd deny me no|thing; and began the Relation immediately: Which, Madam, you may take as followeth, becau&s;e 'tis occa&s;ion'd by the &s;tory of my Love.</P>
<DIV2 TYPE="part">
<P>AFter I had Written that Letter, (where Pa&s;&s;i|on rul'd, and my Judgment or Gratitude were not con&s;ulted) I took Hor&s;e that Evening, and began my journey to <HI>Chira,</HI> (the Metropo|lis of <HI>Naitrant)</HI> where I have &s;taid ever &s;ince my departure. I was a &s;tranger to the City, and the fir&s;t Bill <HI>I</HI> read, there I took up my Lodgings. I liv'd &s;ometime in the Hou&s;e un|known, and went very &s;eldom abroad; my grief for &s;o great a lo&s;s hourly imploying my thoughts. But one day going to take the Air upon the River at the back of the City, I encountred &s;ome Young Ladies that walk'd upon the Banks, and ask'd, if they de&s;ign'd to tru&s;t them&s;elves to the water? Women there, tho' Virtuous and Ho|ne&s;t, yet are not &s;hie, and being well bred, know how to oblige &s;trangers, and pre&s;erve their Ho|nour. They accepted the Complement; and
<PB N="38" REF="65"> having got Mu&s;ick on board, we &s;pent the day, and &s;ome part of the Evening very plea&s;antly; and at la&s;t began the &s;tories of our Loves, where I related mine (but conceal'd your Name and Quality) with as much pain, as if we had but newly parted; this mov'd the pity of all the Ladies, and &s;he who was the faire&s;t of them (and whom we could not per&s;wade to a relation of her Adventures) wept; and &s;ighing, &s;aid, I de&s;erv'd better fortune. Thus we con&s;um'd the time, and I proffer'd to &s;ee them to their Lodg|ings, but was deny'd the Honour, tho' not before they had a&s;&s;ur'd me that I might fre|quently &s;ee them, where we had met that Forenoon.</P>
<P>I found &s;omething that night at my Heart more than u&s;ual, and tho' my own misfortunes lay heavy upon me, I was afflicted for tho&s;e Tears I had forc'd the fair one to &s;hed, and cou'd have almo&s;t wi&s;h'd my &s;elf in Love with her: Her tenderne&s;s &s;poke good Nature, and her gen'rous pity &s;how'd a noble Soul. Your &s;eeming infidelity urg'd me to forget my Vows, and my griefs bid me &s;eek relief from &s;ome kinder &s;he. Then after a tedious conte&s;t, I was all Love, all Repentance, and every corner of my Soul was full of thee; <HI>Timandra,</HI> was the Object of my waking thoughts, and the la&s;t guide that led me to my re&s;t; all Night I'd dream of her, and in the Morning mourn, be|cau&s;e I cou'd dream no more.</P>
<P>Next day however, I went to renew my ac|quaintance with my la&s;t days walk, I mov'd without de&s;ign, yet wanted to &s;ee them; I
<PB N="39" REF="65"> fear'd, and wi&s;h'd, and wanted I knew not what; I fled from my &s;elf, I ask'd not whither; and when I mo&s;t re&s;olv'd to &s;hake off my &s;orrows, and &s;eek for Happine&s;s in a new Love, I've found a plea&s;ure in my pre&s;ent pain, and doated on my griefs for the &s;ake of her who brought them. But the fair ones no &s;ooner arriv'd, than all my cares were hu&s;ht, &s;orrow &s;lept, and no Melancholy thought di&s;turb'd my dawning Hea|ven. I cou'd look on my new acquaintance with an' air wholly chang'd, and ob&s;erv'd that the faire&s;t often fixed her Eyes on mine; and when &s;he &s;poke, Love and Mode&s;ty &s;har'd all her words between them. But time (which to unthinking Lovers &s;till &s;eems &s;hort) flew quick away, and Night with all her gloomy &s;hades ap|proaching, the Ladies retir'd to their re&s;pective Lodgings.</P>
<P>The tender-hearted fair one, after &s;ome &s;mall refu&s;als, at la&s;t permits me to wait upon her to hers. My thoughts were &s;o plea&s;antly imploy'd, I ne're examin'd the way &s;he cho&s;e, and was &s;urpris'd to &s;ee her &s;top at mine. I beg'd &s;he'd allow me the Happine&s;s of waiting upon her to hers, and &s;he told me, <HI>I</HI> had already done &s;o. Thus we parted, and <HI>I</HI> enter'd &s;ome time after, without acquainting her that <HI>I</HI> lodg'd in the &s;ame Hou&s;e. A few minutes after, my Heart &s;eem'd entirely hers, and when it had for a while enjoy'd it &s;elf with the thoughts of a new Beau|ty, and judg'd the Conque&s;t pa&s;t, its fir&s;t Mi|&s;tre&s;s wou'd return, recall the wand'rer, and force him to obedience; and the fair <HI>Timan|dra</HI> &s;till po&s;&s;e&s;s'd a Heart, in &s;pight of its owner.</P>
<PB N="40" REF="66">
<P> We often met, and the Charming <HI>Olmechine,</HI> (for that was the name of this kind fair one) at la&s;t let me know &s;he lov'd. But did it with all the mode&s;ty of her Sex, &s;how'd a &s;trong and nice Virtue, with a powerful Love; palene&s;s o're&s;pread her Face, trembling dwelt upon her Lips, her Eyes were fix'd upon the ground, and her Words were moving, but her Beauty more. 'Twas then, that Love &s;how'd him&s;elf a capri|cious Deity; for the Maid no &s;ooner had at|tack'd my Heart, than 'twas entirely yours. <HI>I</HI> had Eyes no more for her, and my inclinations be|ing wholly chang'd, <HI>I</HI> receiv'd the tender ad|dre&s;s with more indifferency, than good breed|ing or gratitude cou'd well allow. However, when <HI>I</HI> had recollected my &s;elf, <HI>I</HI> gave her all that Satisfaction &s;he cou'd ju&s;tly expect from a heart &s;he knew wholly prepo&s;&s;e&s;t, and now firmly fortified again&s;t a change, <HI>I</HI> &s;ee her home at Night, and inform her, that <HI>I</HI> lodg'd in the &s;ame Hou&s;e, &s;he blu&s;h'd at the unexpected adven|ture, and tho' &s;he lov'd, was &s;orry to know a Man under the &s;ame Roof with her &s;elf, that was con&s;cious to her weakne&s;s. Next day <HI>I</HI> din'd with her, where <HI>I</HI> made my acquaintance with her Aunt; and whom <HI>I</HI> found to be the Mi&s;tre&s;s of the Family. The old Gentlewoman entertain'd me very kindly, and commended my &s;hape, mien, and garb, with all the gallan|try, of which one at twenty is capable; and <HI>I</HI> return'd her Complements with that carele&s;s gra|vity, to which my griefs permitted me not to be a &s;tranger. At night &s;he came to my Room; and under the notion of asking, if things were in that order <HI>I</HI> wi&s;h'd them, &s;pent &s;ome
<PB N="41" REF="66"> hours in my Company. <HI>I</HI> cou'd ob&s;erve, while &s;he &s;tay'd, that nothing pleas'd her &s;o much, as when the Subject was Love: The Blood &s;park|led through her buff Cheeks, and Love lay burning in her deadned Eyes. Next day I found her painted and dre&s;s'd, with that gallantry that only fitted Brides of fifteen, and I was a &s;econd time oblig'd to accept of a &s;plendid Entertain|ment from her. Thus &s;he continu'd kind, and every day gave me new grounds of &s;u&s;pecting the old Letcher inflam'd. While the Aunt made daily advances, the lovely Niece &s;aw me but &s;eldom; and when &s;he did, 'twas with all the ba&s;hfulne&s;s of a guilty young &s;inner, who&s;e Virtue had newly been &s;educ'd. <HI>I</HI> paid her all tho&s;e re&s;pects &s;he de&s;erv'd, and gave my Pity when <HI>I</HI> had no more. She'd &s;igh, look pale, and gently hang her head; then leave me &s;ad, becau&s;e <HI>I</HI> cou'd not love. <HI>Attabalippa,</HI> (for that was the Aunt's name) in time became a per|fect plague, &s;he haunts me like a Gho&s;t, my Will and Actions &s;eem the guide of hers, and &s;he does nothing, in which her hopes to plea&s;e me has not a &s;hare. This made me look out for new Lodgings, and <HI>I</HI> was ready to depart, when my Servant <HI>Curacas</HI> came and told me, the fair <HI>Olmechine</HI> lay dangerou&s;ly ill of a Fea|ver; at this a &s;udden tenderne&s;s &s;eiz'd me, Pity and fears lodg'd in my Brea&s;t, and a thou|&s;and Torments rack'd me till I &s;aw her. <HI>I</HI> &s;oon got admittance, and (having &s;eated my &s;elf by her upon the Bed) enquir'd pa&s;&s;ionately after her health; the Charming Innocent wept, and &s;igh'd, then looking upon me with Eyes all Langui&s;hing, an&s;wer'd, <HI>I</HI> am&mdash;At this a
<PB N="42" REF="67"> new flood of Tears broke forth, and all the Charms of Beauty in di&s;tre&s;s a&s;&s;ault my Heart, and mov'd a pity equal even to Love. Then taking hold of her fair hand, that lay above the Cloaths, <HI>I</HI> ki&s;s'd it with all the Tran&s;ports new-born flames cou'd give; conjur'd her to &s;peak, I long'd to &s;hare her griefs; and almo&s;t wi&s;h'd my &s;elf the Cau&s;e, to have the Power of giving &s;ome relief. Thus while <HI>I</HI> mourn'd o|ver her, po&s;&s;e&s;s'd with all the tenderne&s;s of dying Mothers, for their weeping infants, I cou'd &s;ee her Lips (like Ro&s;es pluckt) grow pale, her Heart beat thick, and night o're&s;pread her Eyes, her Soul half fled, and &s;he at la&s;t lay fainting in my Arms. This adds to my &s;orrow, and lab'ring 'twixt grief and Love, <HI>I</HI> gently rais'd her drooping Head, and &s;trove to ki&s;s her back again to Life; my &s;ighs ecchoed in her ears, and my groans awak'd her from this little death. She look'd upon me with all the Symptoms of a Love-&s;ick Maid, and blu&s;h'd to find her &s;elf ly|ing in my Bo&s;om, with half her Beauties open; then faintly &s;trugling, threw her &s;elf down upon the Bed. Ah! Sir, (&s;aid &s;he) for Heav'ns &s;ake, think me Virtuous, tho' you've found me weak; tenderne&s;s for your lo&s;s fir&s;t begot my Love, then u&s;e it as the darling Child of that gene|rous pa&s;&s;ion, and not the effect of a mind un|fix'd; pardon the exce&s;s of a flame &s;o pure, and give me pity, if you cannot Love. <HI>I</HI> an&s;wer'd the&s;e obliging words with all the &s;weetne&s;s which her Charms in&s;pir'd, and if a flame equal to that of hers did not then po&s;&s;e&s;s me, <HI>I</HI> told her, my Gratitude and her Beauty would a&s;|&s;i&s;t me, and my Heart &s;hou'd quickly bid adieu
<PB N="43" REF="67"> to its old Mi&s;tre&s;s, to entertain one who&s;e merit ju&s;tly claim'd a better. This eas'd the Maid, and I left her more &s;ound in mind and better than I found her. <HI>Attabalippa</HI> met me ju&s;t as I came out, and forc'd me with her back into the Room. <HI>Olmechine</HI> blu&s;h'd at the unexpected Happine&s;s, and was &s;carce able to look upon her Aunt, be|cau&s;e her Lover look'd and was &s;o nigh. She was glad to &s;ee her Niece alter'd to the better; and going to the other end of the Room, view'd her &s;elf in a large Gla&s;s, oppo&s;ite to the Bed, and ask'd me, &s;miling, how I lik'd her dre&s;s? Then told me, how &s;uch a one had lov'd her, that a Lord had dy'd for her, and that mo&s;t of the Youth in <HI>Chira</HI> &s;till &s;igh'd for her, and wondered where that Beauty lay which charm'd them. I an&s;wered her dotage very mode&s;tly, and <HI>Olmechine,</HI> (who&s;e Feaver was now abated) took particular notice of all that pa&s;t; was a|&s;ham'd of her weakne&s;s, and &s;en&s;ibly touched to find a Rival where &s;he lea&s;t look'd for one. In the mean time, the old Gentlewoman, who had forgot &s;omething below Stairs, quitted the Room, after &s;he had de&s;ir'd me to wait upon her Niece, and divert her melancholy thoughts till &s;he return'd. I look'd upon the fair one, with an Air that &s;poke me pleas'd with the op|portunity and imployment; and &s;he, with a Charming Voice, told me, &s;he was not the only Conque&s;t I had made; and tho' &s;he fear'd &s;ome ill Con&s;equences from her Aunt's pa&s;&s;ion, yet &s;he had the &s;atisfaction of &s;eeing Age inflam'd, and lookt upon it as &s;ome excu&s;e for hers. I con|fe&s;s'd I had been long &s;en&s;ible of that e&s;teem her Aunt had for me, but that it had never met
<PB N="44" REF="68"> with any Encouragement; that &s;ince her Charms had been able to drive <HI>Amazonta</HI> (for &s;o I had always call'd you) from my Heart, they were &s;ufficient guards again&s;t the fond a&s;&s;aults of an old Woman, whom I e&s;teem'd only, becau&s;e of that Relation &s;he had to her I lov'd. The fair one, &s;ighing, an&s;wer'd all I &s;aid with &s;o much mode&s;ty, &s;he look'd like innocence her &s;elf, and told me, her pa&s;t misfortunes yielded to her pre&s;ent Happine&s;s, that all her lo&s;&s;es doubly were repay'd, and &s;he no more complain'd of cruel fortune. Her Face and Breeding &s;poke her Quality beyond her pre&s;ent Circum&s;tances; and &s;eeing &s;he was able to &s;peak without preju|dice to her health, I gently pre&s;s'd &s;he'd let me know who it was had taken the happy Con|querour Captive, and if my Love was able to repay the lea&s;t part of her by pa&s;t Sufferings. She, all goodne&s;s, and full of love, after a few Tears, began. Here <HI>Adra&s;tus</HI> &s;topt, and wait|ed my con&s;ent to the Relation of <HI>Olmechine</HI>'s &s;tory; which, Madam, for your diverti&s;ement, I likewi&s;e &s;end you; and if my Letter be of too great length, impute it to my Obe|dience, and the de&s;ire I have to &s;erve you.</P>
</DIV2>
<DIV2 TYPE="part">
<P>MY Father was a Man well known in <HI>Nai|trant,</HI> by the Title of <HI>Manco,</HI> an Earldom which was long po&s;&s;e&s;s'd by a noble &s;eries of his famous Ance&s;tors, handed down to him with ad|ditional Honours, which their Kings according to their Merits had be&s;tow'd. In his Youth he di&s;cover'd a thou&s;and &s;igns of that extravagan|cy which po&s;&s;e&s;s'd him in his Elder Year's. At Masks he &s;till appear'd with all the gallantry
<PB N="45" REF="68"> of Youth, dre&s;s'd profu&s;ely, but danc'd well, had <GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter"> plea&s;ant Countenance, but a large &s;tock of Ill-nature, a refin'd Wit imploy'd to ignoble u&s;es; quarrel'd with all men, and &s;eem'd a bubble to each Rook he knew. His Father (whom Hea|ven had ble&s;s'd with no more Children) griev'd to &s;ee that Son, from whom his Age had hop'd &s;o many Ble&s;&s;ings, the cau&s;e of endle&s;s fears. And to reclaim him from his wildne&s;s, thought Marriage the be&s;t expedient. <HI>Almado,</HI> his Friend and Neighbour, (a Man equal to him&s;elf in Birth and Fortune, the Father of two Daugh|ters) had often propos'd an Alliance with his Family; and of this he now re&s;olves to ac|cept. The Match is immediately agreed upon between them, and my Father Accompanies the old Earl to <HI>Almado</HI>'s Hou&s;e, where he &s;aw the Charming <HI>Arathea</HI> (for that was my Mother's name) and &s;eeing Lov'd. She, whom Fame had acquainted with his Nature, and her Father with his bu&s;ine&s;s, had that grief upon her Soul the accident might ju&s;tly give. This langui&s;h|ment adds to her Beauty, and to his Flame. <HI>Al|mado,</HI> who was of a gen'rous temper, was &s;or|ry to &s;ee his Daughter aver&s;e to what he thought conduc'd &s;o much to her welfare, and tells her all the Advantages that attend &s;o great a match, that the Love my Father had for her wou'd &s;ettle his roving thoughts, and &s;tay his Soul at home. Her Beauty wou'd doubtle&s;s reclaim him. That Marriage wrought &s;uch changes, was evi|dent from every day's experience; and that Youth in that &s;tate, were oblig'd to reckon them&s;elves among&s;t the number of men, and as &s;uch to live; that a lovely Woman had more Eloquence
<PB N="46" REF="69"> than a grave Philo&s;opher, and Love to Vir<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="MURP" EXTENT="3 letters"> join'd, more power than Vice with all her Ma<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter"> about her. The Daughter naturally Pio<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="MURP" EXTENT="2 letters"> knew what &s;he ow'd to her Parents, and &s;how'<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter"> Obedience by a quick con&s;ent. The old Ea<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="MURP" EXTENT="2 letters"> was overjoy'd at his good &s;ucce&s;s; ble&s;s'd h<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="MURP" EXTENT="2 letters"> Friend, and the happy hour which gave hi<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter"> Daughter Birth. Their hopes were equal, an<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter"> their thoughts flew high, and every hour of ad|ded life was look'd upon as Cyphers joyn'd to the numbers of their Ble&s;&s;ings. But this plea|&s;ant Scene, was not of long duration; for the Brave <HI>Almado,</HI> had the misfortune, to be ac|cus'd by Villains, (Enemies to Virtue) of &s;ome de&s;igns again&s;t his Prince, and was forc'd to &s;eek for &s;afety in another Nation, where he &s;hortly after dy'd. Old <HI>Manco</HI> griev'd for the misfortune of his Friend; but more to &s;ee his Elde&s;t Daughter ill us'd by his own Son, and the other expos'd a prey to Contempt and Poverty, becau&s;e her Father's Fortune an&s;wer'd for his &s;eeming guilt, and pay'd for Crimes not his. But as if Heaven had de&s;ign'd my Mother for the longe&s;t &s;ufferer, the Earl (after he had &s;ettled a &s;mall part of his E&s;tate upon her Si&s;ter <HI>Attabalippa)</HI> dy'd, and left the di&s;con&s;olate <HI>A|rathea,</HI> to mourn a lo&s;s which Fortune ne're attempted to repay.</P>
<P><HI>Manco</HI> &s;oon forgot the lo&s;s of a Father, whom he had always look'd upon as an allay to all his Plea&s;ures; and now being entirely Ma&s;ter of him&s;elf and Fortune, he aims at Vice in all her pomp, keeps an Army of Footmen, plays ince&s;|&s;antly at Cards with every Sharper, and pays a double price for every plea&s;ure. While thus he
<PB N="47" REF="69"> liv'd, I came into the World, and tho', he look'd upon my Mothers Charms and Virtue, as things not worthy of his &s;erious thoughts, yet upon this occa&s;ion there was nothing wanting that Money, ma&s;ter'd by a lavi&s;h mind, could bring, and the poor Counte&s;s mourn'd in &s;tate, to &s;ee her Infant born to cruel wants. Some|time after it, he &s;old one half of his Fortune, to appea&s;e the rageing hunger of &s;ome gaping Creditors; the remaining part cou'd not long &s;upply his Disbur&s;ements, and he at la&s;t reduc'd it all to nothing. My Mother wearied out with this long Scene of mi&s;ery, in a &s;hort time &s;unk beneath the burden of her misfortunes, and &s;mil|ing plung'd into the other World; while I, whom Heav'n pre&s;erv'd to &s;port it &s;elf withal, was taken care of by her Si&s;ter, upon whom the Earl (as I have already told you) had &s;ettled a &s;mall part of his E&s;tate. She was not of <HI>A|rathea</HI>'s temper, Gallantry &s;eem'd the bu&s;ine&s;s of her life, and tho' &s;he was always Virtuous, yet her Conduct &s;eldom made her thought &s;uch, for innocence it &s;elf, is not &s;ufficient for a Wo|man, unle&s;s &s;he al&s;o &s;tudy to appear &s;o; becau&s;e the World, which only views the out&s;ide of af|fairs, &s;eldom offers to give its Judgment of things as they really are, but as they &s;eem to be. I had reach'd the twelfth Year of my Age, when <HI>Manco</HI> a&s;ham'd of what was pa&s;t, and terrified with the pro&s;pect of future di&s;grace and con|tempt, (the Companions of Poverty by madne&s;s brought) abandon'd his Hou&s;e and Relations, and threw him&s;elf naked upon the World, in the quality of one of her beggar'd Sons, po&s;|&s;e&s;s'd of nothing, but what in time &s;he might
<PB N="48" REF="70"> be&s;tow upon him for tedious Years of toyls, and hated labour. What few friends his poverty had left him, were &s;orry for the accident, but none &s;trove to give relief; and upon &s;econd thoughts; inwardly rejoyc'd to &s;ee the poor &s;pendthrift gone, tho' they knew not whither. My few Years did not protect me from a due feeling of the&s;e Misfortunes; and that Beauty, which already began to di&s;play it &s;elf in my Face, now droopt and langui&s;h'd e're its day had dawn'd, and darkne&s;s &s;trugled with the glimm ring Light.</P>
<P>My Aunt &s;till made a con&s;iderable figure in the World, and &s;trove to maintain &s;ome part of the Grandeur of her Family, upon that &s;mall E&s;tate <HI>Manco</HI> had given her; and I was by tho&s;e, ig|norant of our Circum&s;tances, reputed a Woman of no &s;mall Fortune. This gave me the trouble of &s;ome Lovers, among&s;t whom were the Lord <HI>Avilon</HI>'s two Sons, men of infinite parts; the Elde&s;t was tall, of good Shapes, had an incom|parable Air, danc'd well, and &s;ung to a wonder, but addicted to Anger and Jealou&s;ie, pa&s;&s;ions of &s;ufficient force to oppre&s;s a large &s;tock of Vir|tues. The Younger was all good Nature, of a prompt and piercing Wit, Eloquent beyond expre&s;&s;ion, had the &s;oftne&s;s of a Woman in his Voice, and all the Courage of that mighty Ceature Man in his Soul. I was equally be|lov'd by both, each &s;trove to gain a Heart in|&s;en&s;ible of their merits, and tho' the younge&s;t had a great &s;hare in my e&s;teem, yet neither of them po&s;&s;e&s;s'd my Love. Thus for a while they Courted, the pre&s;ent &s;till &s;peaking to the Advanvantage of the ab&s;ent, till <HI>Duverr</HI> (for that was the name of the Elde&s;t) o'recome by his
<PB N="49" REF="70"> <GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="MURP" EXTENT="1 letter">ealou&s;ie, quarrel'd with his Brother, (the Hand|&s;ome <HI>Sevilus)</HI> by whom (after a few thru&s;ts) he was kill'd, in a field adjoyning to our Hou&s;e. The Young unfortunate Conquerour, ki&s;s'd the wounded Clay wept over him &s;ome Hours, and then (con&s;ulting his own &s;afety) fled. His Father us'd all his intere&s;t at Court, to obtain a pardon for his only Son; and <HI>Canador</HI> our pre|&s;ent Soveraign (all Mercy) grants it &s;oon as ask'd. But he never returning, it was u&s;ele&s;s, and the afflicted old Man (now concluding both his Children lo&s;t) in a few Years dy'd, hav|ing left his E&s;tate to the next Heir-Male, if his ab&s;ent Son return'd not.</P>
<P>I cou'd not longer live in the Country, where I was look'd upon as the cau&s;e of &s;o many mi&s;|chiefs. My Aunt, who&s;e fortune now began to ebb, was per&s;waded by nece&s;&s;ity, and we came to <HI>Chira,</HI> where unknown we have liv'd the&s;e five Years without a change of Fortune; nor have we yet heard what became of my poor un|fortunate Father, or the young <HI>Sevilus,</HI> now (if alive) Lord <HI>Avilon.</HI> The Court and foreign Trade renders the City very populous, and pri|vate Families re&s;ide in it unregarded. Thus you &s;ee Sir, (continued the afflicted Fair) how mis|fortunes have pur&s;u'd me from my Infancy, and I have now added &s;en&s;ibly to their number, by that weakne&s;s of which you have found me guilty.</P>
<P><HI>Here &s;he ended,</HI> and the &s;tory wrought that Im|pre&s;&s;ion, which the affliction of the fair Sex does on generous Souls. I was all pity, all tenderne&s;s, all &s;orrow; and each of the&s;e were &s;wallow'd up in Love. I wi&s;h'd her all the Happine&s;s the love|lie&s;t
<PB N="50" REF="71"> of her Kind e're po&s;&s;e&s;s'd; &s;wore my con|&s;tant Love &s;hou'd attone for part of her pa&s;t ills, cla&s;p'd her gently in my Arms, laid her all langui&s;hing to my Brea&s;t, and whi&s;per'd com|fort to the kind afflicted. She (whom Love had not robb'd of Mode&s;ty (reprov'd me mild|ly for the rudene&s;s, and &s;aid, &s;he fear'd I doubt|ed much her Virtue, when I thus pre&s;um'd upon her Love. I an&s;wer'd this with words that &s;ufficiently &s;poke it the effect of my pa&s;&s;ion and my grief, for a thought that differ'd &s;o much from my real intentions or &s;entiments; Madam, (cry'd I) believe me I love, that I think you Virtuous, that I lament your pa&s;t &s;ufferings, and &s;hall be ever yours. The Aunt jealous of her Niece's Charms, made all the di&s;patch &s;he cou'd of any affairs that kept her from me, and enter'd ju&s;t as I pronounc'd the la&s;t words. At fir&s;t &s;he &s;tood amaz'd at what &s;he &s;aw, but (willing to conceal that concern &s;he had for the di&s;covery) turn'd it into Raillery, and &s;miling ask'd her Niece, if &s;he &s;tood in need of a Love-Phy&s;ician, to compleat the Cure of her Feaver. <HI>Olmechine</HI> only &s;mil'd; and I, who was obliged to an&s;wer for both the offenders, told <HI>Attabalippa,</HI> that I &s;har'd in her Niece's &s;ickne&s;s; that my Heart was naturally tender, that Women's pains (if fair) were all my own; and that I was glad of her arrival, and thereupon &s;how'd a Picture, (done by the be&s;t Ma&s;ter of the World, which I val|lu'd at a hundred Guineas.) This, Madam, (&s;aid I) the fair <HI>Olmechine</HI> at fir&s;t view admir'd, but when I beg'd &s;he'd accept the &s;mall Complement, it was an&s;wer'd, you better de&s;erv'd it, and I &s;wore it &s;hou'd be ever hers. At this you ap|pear'd,
<PB N="51" REF="71"> as if kind fortune had &s;ent you to decide the difference. The old Gentlewoman was pleas'd to find things no wor&s;e, and decided in my favours; while the Charming Niece had Joys equal to hers, in &s;eeing how much I fear'd, and what caution I us'd for the concealment of my flame; for Cares are always Natural &s;igns of growing love, and our endeavours to hide any thing, a mark of that value put upon it.</P>
<P>In a &s;hort time the fair one was perfectly re|cover'd, and <HI>Attabalippa</HI> wou'd often call me an able <HI>Phy&s;ician,</HI> and attribute the cure to my Conver&s;ation. But at la&s;t growing jealous to a degree of madne&s;s, &s;he deny'd her that Happi|ne&s;s, and watch'd her with as many Eyes as <HI>Ar|gus</HI> e're had open, when he look'd to the Rival Cow, at the command of the jealous Godde&s;s. While I was ab&s;ent from this fond tender Beauty, my Heart would &s;truggle 'twixt the old and new, recall to view my fir&s;t and latter Vows, &s;how <HI>Olmechine</HI> in all her &s;weetne&s;s, and <HI>Timandra</HI> with her Honour abandon'd for my &s;ake, then I wou'd immediately be all yours; when with your Rival I lov'd her, when ab&s;ent I forgot her; and &s;till as the moving Object fled from my &s;ight, the flame &s;he had kindled burnt no longer, but &s;erv'd to add to that I had for another. The Aunt &s;torm'd and lov'd, &s;aw me frequently, and had always the marks of Anger, Jealou&s;ie, and Love evident in her Countenance, and forgot not to tell me, &s;he took notice of that inclinati|on the fond young Girl had for me, (meaning her Niece) and was &s;orry to &s;ee how much I contri|buted to the encrea&s;e of her pa&s;&s;ion. I deny'd all, and certainly had left <HI>Chira</HI> to be rid of &s;o
<PB N="52" REF="72"> many tortures, if the Compa&s;&s;ion I had for <HI>Ol|mechine</HI>'s &s;ufferings had not commanded my &s;tay. At Night <HI>Curacas</HI> told me &s;he had met him upon the Stairs, and de&s;ir'd to &s;ee me next Morning at the Rivers &s;ide. I fail'd not to be there, and had not waited long when &s;he arriv'd. We &s;pent the fir&s;t part of our time upon the Wa|ter; where we di&s;cours'd our Loves anew, laugh'd at the old Aunt, pity'd her weakne&s;s, and pleas'd our &s;elves with the hopes of coming Happine&s;s. But the day growing hotter, we for&s;ook the incon&s;tant Element for one more fix'd, and cho&s;e to walk beneath &s;ome Trees which grew upon the Bank; <HI>Olmechine</HI> on a &s;udden &s;top'd, and offer'd to retire, becau&s;e the King was upon the place; and I, who had never yet &s;een this Prince, was now re&s;olv'd to lay hold of the opportunity. But as I was about to tell her &s;o, the mighty <HI>Canador</HI> appear'd, of whom Fame &s;peaks &s;o many wonders. He di&s;cours'd familiarly with any Man that approach'd him, look'd all Maje&s;ty and Courage, yet had Mer|cy painted in his Face. We &s;tood &s;ometime to &s;ee what Courtiers were with him, when to the wonder of all, a young Man (with his Hair cut above his Ears, impri&s;on'd (you'd thought &s;o at lea&s;t) in his Coat; his &s;hoes and e|very thing about him be&s;peaking his Imploy|ment, and his Gloves thrown beneath his Arm|pit) approach'd. He ask'd &s;ome Per&s;ons of Quality which was the King, and having found him, bluntly demanded if he was <HI>Canador</HI> the Soveraign of <HI>Naitrant;</HI> who &s;miling an&s;wered he was. The Seaman immediately pulls a Let|ter out of his Pocket, and pre&s;ents it with that
<PB N="53" REF="72"> grace inherent to men of his profe&s;&s;ion. The King ask'd from whom it came? And he confidently reply'd, from my Companion hone&s;t <HI>Villacus,</HI> a Man who has done your Maje&s;ty great &s;ervice at Sea the&s;e Seven Years pa&s;t. He came on &s;hoar &s;ome Months ago, and after he had &s;pent his Money with plea&s;ure, as with toyl he gain'd it, was forc'd by Nece&s;&s;ity to reimbur&s;e with the fir&s;t opportunity, and &s;o had the misfortune in a Civil way to borrow &s;ome pounds upon the Road from a Gentleman, for which he is now detain'd Pri&s;oner in the <HI>Caroula,</HI> and may &s;hort|ly pay too much intere&s;t for the Mony, if your Maje&s;ty does not di&s;charge the Sum, and relieve him &s;peedily. The King was pleas'd to open the Letter; which we afterwards under&s;tood to be to this purpo&s;e.</P>
<LETTER LANG="eng">
<OPENER><SALUTE>Kind Sir,</SALUTE></OPENER>
<P><HI>MY Friend</HI> Pallamos <HI>(the bearer hereof,) can tell you who I am, and what I have done for you the&s;e &s;even Years. If you will not believe him, you may ask the que&s;tion of</HI> Be|nizor <HI>our Admiral and your good Friend. I I had the misfortune to be taken up for a &s;mall bu&s;ine&s;s, which I don't de&s;ire to hear of again, becau&s;e I have heard too much on't already. I was try'd and Condem'd, and unle&s;s you look out very &s;harp you may come to lo&s;e a very good Subject; for I am to be hang'd to mor|row or next day at farthe&s;t. And d'ye &s;ee, Sir, I wou'd have you Remember this in time, for the hours &s;tay for no man, and the Gal|lows</HI>
<PB N="54" REF="73"> <HI>is ready for any man; and look ye I cannot endure the thoughts of hanging.</HI></P>
<CLOSER><SALUTE>Sir,</SALUTE>
<SIGNED>Your Friend to &s;erve you, <HI>Villacus.</HI></SIGNED></CLOSER>
</LETTER>
<P><HI>Canador</HI> taken with the Adventure, laught heartily, and turning to <HI>Benizor,</HI> who then walk'd with him, ask'd if he knew any &s;uch? who reply'd he did, that they were two merry Fellows, had &s;erv'd in his own Ship, and were extraordinary Seamen. While the King di&s;|cours'd the Admiral, I cou'd &s;ee the Young Tarr fix his Eyes upon <HI>Olmechine;</HI> &s;he blu&s;ht and trembl'd, and he &s;how'd no fewer marks of &s;ur|pri&s;e in his Countenance; when approaching, Madam, (&s;aid he) may I ask where the fair <HI>Ol|mechine</HI> lives, and what place of this City is ble&s;s'd with &s;o &s;weet a Gue&s;t? This he &s;poke with an Air that bely'd his habit; and &s;he un|able to an&s;wer, only &s;igh'd. In the mean time the King ask'd for him, and bid him acquaint his Comrade with his &s;ucce&s;s, adding, his Pardon &s;hou'd be &s;ent him in the Evening. He, who again appear'd a Seaman, bow'd to his Prince after avery odd manner, and to&s;&s;ing up his Hat (after a few Pray'rs for the King, and a langui&s;hing look to the fair <HI>Olmechine)</HI> run off, and left the Compa|ny beyond thought pleas'd with the Novelty of the addre&s;s. The fair confus'd one &s;oon quit the place, and as we walk'd homewards, I cou'd
<PB N="55" REF="73"> ob&s;erve her drown'd in melancholy, that her Soul was o'reburden'd, and &s;he was ready to &s;ink between two very different pa&s;&s;ions, Grief and Love. I ask'd the cau&s;e with all the ten|derne&s;s of which a Man can be capable; and &s;he an&s;wered me in the &s;ame Language &s;he had done the lovely Seaman.</P>
<P>Next Morning I paid a vi&s;it to the old Wo|man, &s;he was glad to &s;ee me, but the lovely Niece (no more what &s;he had been) Sickned as I enter'd. The Aunt ob&s;erv'd it, and Re|membring how &s;he had been indi&s;pos'd that Night, attributed the cau&s;e to Love, and playd upon the Subject. In the mean time one of the Servants enter'd, and whi&s;pering &s;omething to <HI>Attabalippa,</HI> the dejected <HI>Olmechine</HI> told me in a moving accent; that the misfortunes of others now pre&s;s'd her Heart, and new pains had &s;eiz'd her ea&s;ie Soul; that time wou'd &s;hew me how weak &s;he was, and I wou'd &s;corn her for her pa&s;t kindne&s;s. This di&s;cou&s;e amaz'd me, and I was about to tell her &s;o, when her Aunt cry'd <HI>bring them in;</HI> the Door was immediately open'd, and I cou'd &s;ee two hand&s;om Gentlemen enter. <HI>Ol|mechine</HI> trembl'd, look'd pale, &s;igh'd, and in a moment fainted. The Aunt ran with open Arms, not knowing which of them to embrace fir&s;t; and cry'd, Oh <HI>Manco!</HI> Oh <HI>Avilon!</HI> The Fa|ther and the Lover equally &s;trove to a&s;&s;i&s;t the Fainting fair; and each regardle&s;s of <HI>Attabalippa</HI>'s kindne&s;s flew like lightning to embrace the Lovely Niece. Both rai&s;e her up, both weep, and joyntly pre&s;s her Lips. The Charming in|nocent lifted up her Eyes, ble&s;s'd Heav'n, then &s;igh'd, and fainted o're again. At this, the
<PB N="56" REF="74"> Lover floods of Tears let fall, curs'd his own folly, rav'd becau&s;e he had &s;hewn too much o<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter"> Happine&s;s at once, and had not brought h<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="MURP" EXTENT="2 letters"> Heav'n by ju&s;t degrees The Father was po&s;|&s;e&s;t with all the tenderne&s;s of an afflicted Parent. He gaz'd upon her, &s;tood motionle&s;s, and in groans &s;poke all his griefs. The Aunt was di|vided between hopes and fears, and my endea|vours for her recovery, gave way to tho&s;e of her fir&s;t Lover. At la&s;t &s;he &s;poke and Charm'd them into exta&s;ie. Not &s;miles of new-born Infants ever were &s;o welcome to tender Mothers, after all their pains as the fir&s;t word &s;he utter'd. After &s;ome minutes thus &s;pent, they at la&s;t &s;eated them&s;elves and ask'd a thou&s;and que&s;tions of each others For|tunes. <HI>Olmechine</HI> pre&s;s'd <HI>Avilon</HI> to tell her if he was the Man who had addre&s;s'd the King the preceeding day, for a Pardon to his Friend. <HI>Manco</HI> &s;mil'd, and de&s;ir'd the Lover to &s;atisfie her Curio&s;ity. At this I offer'd to retire, but 'twas beg'd I'd &s;tay. In the mean time the Young Lord began, and told her how he had met with her Father at Sea, that they had both &s;erv'd to|gether in one Ship, that a few weeks after they came to <HI>Chira,</HI> they went into the Country to enquire after her, where by the way the Earl was apprehended for a Robbery, becau&s;e he had &s;ome re&s;emblance of the Author, and being Condemn'd, they had made u&s;e of that Strata|gem to obtain a Pardon, without di&s;covering his Quality. That when he had left the King, he waited at the end of the Avenue and dog'd her home; and that as &s;oon as her Father was at liberty, and they had provided them&s;elves in hand&s;ome Cloaths, they came to wait upon her.
<PB N="57" REF="74"> The fair one wept at the &s;tory of their hard|&s;hips, thank'd the Gods that had re&s;tor'd her Parent to her, and kneeling ask'd his Ble&s;&s;ing. The Earl, with all that gravity in his Face which Age and misfortunes commonly imprint told her that Heav'n had now repay'd all his &s;uffer|ings, that he &s;aw the Errors of his Youth, and was &s;orry he had been the Cau&s;e of all her pa&s;t mi&s;eries. Then taking <HI>Avilon</HI> by the hand; here my dear <HI>Olmechine</HI> (cry'd he) receive the Companion of my toyls and ab&s;ence, my good and bad Fortunes, look upon him as the pre&s;er|ver of your Father's Life, Honour, and E&s;tate; and the Man whom kind Heaven de&s;igns you for your Husband. At this &s;he blu&s;h'd, and the happy young Lover throwing him&s;elf at her feet, conjur'd her to remember his pa&s;t &s;ufferings, his continued Con&s;tancy, and all his Vows. The fair one fix'd her Eyes upon mine, and with Tears an&s;wer'd all he &s;aid.</P>
<P>In the Morning &s;he &s;ent for me, and after a thou&s;and blu&s;hes and faint &s;ighs, ask'd me if I cou'd &s;ee her Marry'd to another. I lov'd her when pre&s;ent, and was &s;carce able to an&s;wer, but upon &s;econd thoughts told her, I cou'd &s;ee her po&s;&s;e&s;s'd by <HI>Avilon,</HI> becau&s;e his &s;ervices be&s;t de|&s;erv'd her, and that to purcha&s;e happine&s;s for her, I cou'd forego my own; I &s;hew'd the hand|&s;ome Young Lover in his be&s;t &s;hapes, and forgot not to put her in mind of tho&s;e obligations &s;he lay under to him. She confe&s;s'd his worth, but doubtcd &s;till the truth of what I &s;aid, and ask'd me blu&s;hing if I &s;poke my thoughts? I &s;wore I did; that as Compa&s;&s;ion fir&s;t begot her Love, &s;o it had done mine; and the cau&s;e once
<PB N="58" REF="75"> remov'd, the Effect naturally ceas'd, that I cou'd mourn her misfortunes no longer, when I &s;aw her happily Marry'd to a Man who lov'd &s;o well; that &s;he &s;hould ever have the greate&s;t &s;hare in my e&s;teem, and in my Heart take place next to <HI>Amazonta;</HI> and that for my &s;elf, I hop'd time &s;hou'd procure me that happine&s;s, which the thoughts of &s;eeing her honourably match'd had already begun. I cou'd read contentment in her Eyes, and &s;he might ea&s;ily have found as much in mine. When I left her, I began more &s;eriou&s;ly to reflect on what had pa&s;t; and by my hopes of future Happine&s;s I &s;wear, in all my &s;earch, I found not one thought that was not for this Marriage; and was confirm'd in my opi|nien, when inform'd that <HI>Avilon</HI> had bo&s;tow'd upon the repenting <HI>Manco</HI> the profits of his E|&s;tate, which he had not enjoy'd &s;ince his Father's Decea&s;e, it amounted to a con&s;iderable Sum, and wi<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter">h i<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter"> he was able to relieve that half of his <GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 span"> which he had not &s;old, and that which <HI><GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="4 letters">balippa</HI> po&s;&s;e&s;s'd became likewi&s;e his by her Death. This, Madam, <HI>I</HI> &s;ay confirm'd me much in my Re&s;olution of &s;eeing her Married to another. But your fair Idea which &s;till haunt|ed me, confirm'd me more, and fini&s;h'd what was begun, my imperfect thoughts &s;ettled there and all my wi&s;hes center'd in <HI>Timandra.</HI></P>
<P>The day following they were Marry'd, <HI>A|vilon</HI> <GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 span"> Mi&s;tre&s;s of all his Vows, for whom, he had endur'd Seven Years of tedious Exile; &s;he a Lover who had re&s;tor'd her Father to his Fortune and Honour. <HI>Manco</HI> &s;aw his Daughter Marry'd to the be&s;t of men, and her &s;elf the mo&s;t Charming and Obedient Nature
<PB N="59" REF="75"> e're had fram'd, looks on his inclinations pa&s;t, compares them with the pre&s;ent, and finds how far he had mi&s;taken the Road to Happine&s;s, thanks Heaven for all tho&s;e hard&s;hips he had known, becau&s;e they &s;erv'd to &s;how the value of his pre&s;ent Fortunes. <HI>Attabalippa</HI> was o'rejoy'd at the return of her Brother-in-Law, and the lo&s;s of a Rival, in the Marriage of her Niece, and I had all at that plea&s;ure love and ab&s;ence wou'd permit. Thus we were all happy, and a few days after began our Journey to the Country. At <HI>Olmechine</HI>'s de&s;ire, <HI>I</HI> made one in this happy Company, and <HI>I</HI> cou'd ob&s;erve how ble&s;t the fair one was; contentment and Love &s;at &s;miling on her Brow; and <HI>Venus,</HI> when &s;he for the Apple &s;trove, expo&s;ing all her graces to the Youth, was a homely Beauty, rugged and deform'd, match'd with this lovely Nymph. Joys &s;parkled in her Eyes, and the calmne&s;s of her Soul and Mind di&s;play'd it &s;elf in all her words. But if by chance, &s;he fix'd her Eyes on mine, thoughts of that weakne&s;s &s;he had lately &s;hown, di&s;turb'd her Peace, and fann'd expiring Fires; or if at any time they &s;poke of con&s;tant Loves, &s;he'd &s;igh, and blu&s;h, then faintly look on me. When we had rid two days Journey, I met upon the Road an Inhabitant of <HI>Capac,</HI> of whom asking &s;everal que&s;tions, and at la&s;t concerning you, <HI>I</HI> was &s;urpriz'd to hear him &s;ay, <HI>you'l laugh when I've told you how the Earl of</HI> Rucana <HI>Marry'd her.</HI> The words like Lightning &s;truck me to the Heart, my Blood was chill'd, and froze within my Veins, and <HI>I</HI> had &s;carce the Courage to bid him tell me all: At la&s;t he did it. But good
<PB N="60" REF="76"> Gods! you only know what pa&s;&s;ions &s;well'd my loaded Brea&s;t! Grief, Shame, and Repentance fir&s;t took place; then Joys follow'd, not to be chang'd for tho&s;e the Gods po&s;&s;e&s;s Eternal &s;prings and &s;weets &s;eem now in view, the thoughts of for|mer plea&s;ures are no more, all pa&s;t and pre&s;ent va|ni&s;h'd, (like Birds of Night at the approaching Sun) at the coming of a new Heav'n. <HI>Timandra</HI> was innocent, all Lovely, all Virtue, and tho' I found too late how faulty I had been, yet to my comfort, <HI>I</HI> &s;till remembred the Nature of the offended Fair; knew her all Mercy, and ble&s;t kind Heav'n and her. <HI>Olmechine</HI> no more ap|pear'd the &s;ame, her Eyes look'd dead, her Beauties fled, and all the footing which her Charm's had gain'd, for Years of &s;ighs, within my faithful Brea&s;t, was in one moment by <HI>Ti|mandra</HI> won. I acquainted the happy Fair with my good fortune, and told her my <HI>Amazon|ta</HI> &s;till was ju&s;t, that her Maid had borrow'd her name, and was already Married. The kind &s;he &s;har'd in my Joys, bid me po&s;t to Happine&s;s which I oft had wi&s;h'd, and had &s;o well de&s;erv'd. Mounted on Wings of Love <HI>I</HI> hither came; &s;tole into <HI>Capac</HI> with all the privacy and inward Joy of Mi&s;ers, who at dead of Night go to view their hoarded Trea&s;ure; and found <HI>Zi|belline</HI> at the Garden Door, when asking for the Object of my de&s;ires, I was inform'd the Duke was po&s;&s;e&s;t of all, and I for ever damn'd, and excluded that Heav'n your Mercy had tempted me to hope. I enter'd, found you &s;leeping, &s;igh'd over you, till my trembling Soul prompted, by the Heav'n-like out&s;ide, &s;trove
<PB N="61" REF="76"> to abandon my Body, and po&s;&s;e&s;s it &s;elf of yours; and while thus <HI>I</HI> labour'd you awak'd, and by your griefs you taught me what to hope.</P>
<P><HI>Here</HI> Adra&s;tus <HI>ended;</HI> and, Madam, <HI>I</HI> cou'd wi&s;h you'd &s;pare me the &s;hame and trouble of Writing what follow'd. Yet had the <HI>Trojan</HI> look'd but half &s;o fair, the <HI>Tyrian</HI> Queen was happy even in flames; for to live without him, had brought new pains each moment of her life, and all her Years had been con&s;um'd in &s;or|row; or had he when at Sea &s;o lovely been, the Queen of Heav'n had laid her Anger by and &s;mil'd upon him, Winds had for ever been in Chains ty'd up, and mutter'd for new vent within their Cells. While &s;he above in contem|plation wrap'd, had &s;een the Waves plow'd up by <HI>Trojan</HI> Ships, and kept his men from danger for his &s;ake; <HI>Jove</HI>'s Bed for ever now had nau|&s;eous grown, and &s;he'd have left the joys and &s;weets of Heav'n for the Embraces of the God|like mortal; &s;he'd envy'd <HI>Dido,</HI> and her place &s;upply'd, and had by flames extingui&s;h'd rageing fires. Virtue and Marriage Vows had fled be|fore the happy Conquerour, and <HI>Cynthia</HI> her &s;elf, with all her coldne&s;s and indifferency about her, had &s;mil'd, if this young Man had &s;een her in the Water, naked &s;he'd &s;tood and gaz'd upon his Eyes, and caught by Love, forgot to &s;eek Re|venge, then in the heat of wild de&s;ire, expos'd to view what happy &s;treams had hid, to tempt the Youth into an equal flame. Wonder not then, Madam, if I confe&s;s my weakne&s;s, and tell you, that I yelided, that he po&s;&s;e&s;s'd what was anothers
<PB N="62" REF="77"> right, and weigh'd the Ble&s;&s;ing in the Sca<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="MURP" EXTENT="3 letters"> <GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="MURP" EXTENT="1 word"> Love.</P>
<P>That night he went to the Earl's (who yet knew nothing of his being in <HI>Capac)</HI> 'twas there he found the Duke, and was by both re|ceiv'd with that joy natural to a kind Brother, and a con&s;tant friend. <HI>I</HI> had complain'd of <HI>Mi|noya</HI>'s unkindne&s;s, and he forgot not that Night to ob&s;erve his behaviour, and found the Coun+te&s;s &s;hew'd no compliance to his Pa&s;&s;ion, but what good Manners and his Quality command<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter"> from her. When he came to &s;ee me next morn+ing, my Husband fond of his Company wou<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="MURP" EXTENT="2 letters"> not live without him, and he accepted of an Ap<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter">+partment in our Hou&s;e.</P>
<P>You may condemn me, Madam, perhaps becau&s;e I did not oppo&s;e this, and &s;hun'd <GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="MURP" EXTENT="1 word"> Man that made me betray my Honour, and <GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="MURP" EXTENT="1 word"> Marriage Vows. But <HI>I</HI> mu&s;t plead the force <GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="MURP" EXTENT="1 word"> his Love, and my weakne&s;s for an excu&s;e; <GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="MURP" EXTENT="1 word"> <HI>I</HI> hope you are no &s;tranger to the force of t<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="MURP" EXTENT="2 letters"> Young Deity; for had <HI>Apollo,</HI> with all his cu<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="MURP" EXTENT="4 letters"> locks that wanton'd in the Wind, and all <GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="MURP" EXTENT="1 word"> Charms his Mu&s;ick e're had wrought, been h<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="MURP" EXTENT="3 letters"> &s;o taking, half &s;o gay, the lovely Virgin ne're had fled before him; the Gods had laugh'd when &s;he for pity cry'd, and all the Godde&s;&s;es had en|vy'd her Happine&s;s, her Heart &s;o long cou'd not have flinty prov'd, &s;he'd turn'd, and look'd, then lov'd, and yielded.</P>
<P><HI>Adra&s;tus</HI> thus happily po&s;ted, enjoy'd his Mi&s;tre&s;s and the friend&s;hip of her Husband, and beneath that &s;hade the Serpent lodg'd, that &s;tung his Honour when he &s;eem'd &s;ecure; in
<PB N="63" REF="77"> the mean time he goes often to <HI>Rucana</HI>'s, and a&s;&s;aults his Wife with all the Arts of Love; but &s;he (too mode&s;t, and fortified with a &s;tronger Virtue than I was ever Mi&s;tre&s;s of,) with&s;tood this growing Malady, and hop'd to cure him e're her Husband took notice on't.</P>
<P>In the Evening <HI>Adra&s;tus</HI> came into my Room, and there &s;pent &s;ome hours; our &s;ecurity made us carele&s;s, and our repeated Joys had lull'd our wearied Souls almo&s;t into a Lethargy. I was &s;itting in a Chair hard by him, and my Head re&s;ted in his Bo&s;om; the young Lover wou'd &s;igh, and eagerly pre&s;s my hand, look langui&s;hing upon me, and tell how much he lov'd, then wonder how the Duke became &s;o blind, and aw not Charms of force enough to move a frozen Hermit, drag him from his Religious Cell into the World again, make him lo&s;e what forty Years of cruel pennance gain'd, <GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="2 letters">d pull him back from Heav'n when almo&s;t <GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="2 letters">ter'd.</P>
<P>As he pronounc'd the la&s;t words, the Duke came into the Room, he look'd furiou&s;ly upon me, his Eyes plainly &s;peaking his thoughts, and going to the other end of the Chamber, &s;eated him&s;elf in a Chair oppo&s;ite to me. <HI>Adra&s;tus</HI> was confounded at the Accident, and only griev'd for me. Then ri&s;ing up, he embrac'd his friend, ask'd the cau&s;e of his &s;udden melancholy, from whence his frowns, and &s;wore his Wife was Virtuous e|ven in thought. <HI>Minoya</HI> gave him &s;mall en|couragement to plead for me or him&s;elf, and wou'd have forc'd him&s;elf from his Arms, when <HI>Adra&s;tus</HI> (after he had given me a &s;ign to retire) threw him&s;elf upon his knees, and (to
<PB N="64" REF="78"> &s;ave my Reputation or at lea&s;t my griefs) &s;wore by that friend&s;hip which he had always profe&s;s'd towards him, <HI>Timandra</HI> was innocent, that 'twas true, &s;he had laid open her &s;ufferings to him, in hopes he might prevail with her Husband to abandon that pa&s;&s;ion he had for the Counte&s;s of <HI>Rucana,</HI> and that he cou'd do no le&s;s than &s;peak pa&s;&s;ionately, and with tenderne&s;s, to ea&s;e her pre&s;ent griefs. The Duke, whether it was becau&s;e he &s;aw his Love to his Si&s;ter-in-Law taken notice of, or if he really believ'd what was &s;aid, I won't determine; but after a &s;hort pau&s;e he &s;eem'd on a &s;udden pleas'd, and begg'd a thou|&s;and pardons, for that unju&s;t opinion he had conceiv'd of his Friend&s;hip and my Virtue. Then taking <HI>Adra&s;tus</HI> by the hand (after they had embrac'd) he led him into the Room where I was. I had thrown my &s;elf upon the Bed all drown'd in Tears; in this condition he found me, and falling down by me, he cla&s;pt me in his Arms, ki&s;s'd me, and &s;mil'd, Ah my dear <HI>Ti+mandra!</HI> (cry'd he) Pardon the fir&s;t Crime o<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter"> this Nature <HI>I</HI> e're committed, and accept of an unfeign'd Repentance. By all the pow'rs in Heav'n I love thee to di&s;traction, and wou'd not again be doubtful of thy Virtue, to be Mo|narch of the Univer&s;e, curs'd be the thought, and may Love and Peace be ever &s;trangers to my Hou&s;e, when e're I think the Ju&s;t <HI>Timan|dra</HI> fal&s;e. <HI>Adra&s;tus</HI> who &s;aw with what tender|ne&s;s he &s;poke, how good his Nature, and how great his Love, almo&s;t repented what he had done in prejudice to his Honour, and abhorr'd his own Treachery. But then looking on me, the&s;e Virtuous qualms for&s;ook him. Sorrow mixt
<PB N="65" REF="78"> with Jealou&s;ie took place; he &s;aw the Woman whom he fir&s;t had lov'd, now ki&s;s'd and ruffled in anothers Arms, and &s;he by Vows to ba&s;e com|pliance ty'd. This &s;hook his Nature, made his Soul unfix'd, and almo&s;t turn'd his pa&s;&s;ion into madne&s;s. So mighty <HI>Jove</HI> from di&s;tant Heaven look'd down, and &s;aw <HI>Alcmena</HI> whom helong had lov'd, now pre&s;t and folded in a Mortal's Arms, a while with Love and Jealou&s;ie he burns, and to him&s;elf he mutters &s;weet Revenge, &s;wears by his God head, when <HI>Amphitrion</HI>'s fled, he'l lay his Thunder and his Scepter by, de&s;cend, and in the dull Phlegmatick Husband's place, lay both a burning Lover and a God.</P>
<P>For &s;ome days after the Duke forbore his vi|&s;its to <HI>Rucana</HI> (or rather to his Wife) and <HI>A|dra&s;tus</HI> and I cou'd both of us have wi&s;h'd him oftner abroad, we began to fear that ab&s;ence might le&s;&s;en that flame he had for the Counte&s;s, and that which (before the return of my Lover) was my greate&s;t torment, now became my ble&s;&s;ing; and nothing po&s;&s;e&s;s'd my Mind more, than the doubts I had, of being eternally de|ny'd the Happine&s;s of entertaining the fond young Man. The&s;e fears did not la&s;t long, but gave the way to new ones built upon better grounds; for the Duke went as frequently a|broad as ever he had done, but then he &s;tay'd not long, or if he did, 'twas when my Lover was with him, who griev'd for this violent &s;epa|ration, and had no comfort but what &s;tol'n looks be&s;tow'd. One Evening while the Duke &s;at by me, he dext'rou&s;ly convey'd a &s;hort <HI>Billet-deux</HI> into my Pocket, &s;ome minutes after I read it, and found it to this purpo&s;e.</P>
<LETTER LANG="eng">
<PB N="66" REF="79">
<OPENER><SALUTE>Madam,</SALUTE></OPENER>
<P><HI>TO morrow the Duke de&s;igns to hunt the Stag in the Park at</HI> A&s;&s;apan, <HI>whither I de|&s;ign &s;eemingly to wait upon him, but with the fir&s;t opportunity to lo&s;e him, and return to</HI> Ca|pac; <HI>doubt not the &s;ucce&s;s, for I &s;hall be hap|py if</HI> Timandra <HI>Loves.</HI></P>
<CLOSER><SIGNED>Adra&s;tus.</SIGNED></CLOSER>
</LETTER>
<P><HI>Minoya</HI> according to his Re&s;olution went, and I doubted not but that the Earl of <HI>A&s;&s;apan</HI> wou'd detain him till Night, if not longer. He was a Man of a great E&s;tate but of mean Ex|traction, po&s;&s;e&s;s'd every thing that makes an accompli&s;h'd Gentleman; was a Batchelour, &s;el|dom given to extravagancy, lov'd Hunting, and fitted the Duke's humour exactly.</P>
<P>I had waited but a few hours when <HI>Adra&s;tus</HI> came; the danger added to the wi&s;h'd for Bli&s;s, and I like the con&s;tant <HI>Hero,</HI> took the bold <HI>Leander</HI> in my Arms, wip'd his cares from him, laugh'd at Honour, and po&s;&s;e&s;s'd my Love. While thus we lay in fa&s;t embraces twin'd, dreamt of no Danger but of pre&s;ent Joys; my faithful <HI>Zibelline</HI> came running in, half dead with fear, and almo&s;t out of breath, Madam, (&s;he cry'd) the Duke! The Duke! Prepare,&mdash;now &s;ave&mdash;your Lover&mdash;and&mdash;your ruin'd Honour.<HI>&mdash;Adra&s;tus</HI> (carele&s;s of him&s;elf) &s;tarts up, un&s;heaths his Sword, and points it to his Brea&s;t. This! This! (&s;aid he) &s;hall find an entrance here, and pierce my panting, loving,
<PB N="67" REF="79"> tender Heart, when <HI>I</HI> abandon the too kind <HI>Timandra;</HI> the Duke &s;hall bleed, and &s;he &s;hall &s;till be &s;afe; if now he come this Steel &s;hall give him welcom. Trembling <HI>I</HI> caught my Lo|ver in my Arms, bid him remember all his for|mer Vows; when &s;ighing at my feet inflam'd he lay, by all our hopes of Happine&s;s, I &s;wore <HI>Minoya</HI>'s death &s;hou'd bring <HI>Timandra</HI>'s too. The Lover now no more of Courage knew; his Love for me a thou&s;and fears begets, and plung'd in grief, all motionle&s;s he lies, thinking on me, but not my pre&s;ent danger. Then on a &s;udden leaping from this Trance, he cry'd, Speak! Speak! I'm yours, command me where you plea&s;e. <HI>Zibelline</HI> half recover'd from her fright, within my Clo&s;et hid the hot young Man, my Husband ent'ring ju&s;t as he was gone. My care|le&s;s po&s;ture as in bed <HI>I</HI> lay, deludes his fancy with the hopes of Bli&s;s; and my Maid (who &s;aw a fire in his Blood, and how he &s;igh'd, and faintly &s;poke my name) retir'd, and left me in his loath|&s;ome Arms. <HI>Adra&s;tus</HI> heard with &s;orrow all that pa&s;t, yet pleas'd to know how faintly <HI>I</HI> em|brac'd, each &s;igh <HI>I</HI> gave, he thought it meant for him, and all my actions &s;poke the joy unwel|come. So <HI>Pro&s;erpina</HI> when by <HI>Pluto</HI> caught receiv'd the Per&s;on of the ravi&s;hing God, with all tho&s;e fears which tender Virgins know, and all the loathings of a lovely Maid, who had been ble&s;t with better &s;weeter loves; but at the la&s;t, comforts her &s;elf with this; that as &s;he was to Hell and <HI>Pluto</HI> ty'd, for half the Year to &s;hare unequal plea&s;ures; the other half was to be &s;pent in Heaven.</P>
<PB N="68" REF="80">
<P> When the Duke was gone the Lover &s;traight appear'd, grief pre&s;s'd his Brow, and anger glow'd in his Cheeks. So <HI>Mars,</HI> when taken in another's Bed, &s;torm'd when he &s;aw the Gods look laughing on; but more when <HI>Vulcan</HI> &s;tood before his Eyes, and <HI>Venus</HI> blu&s;hing for her Lover lay. My dalliances with the Duke had added to my Beauty, Blood &s;parkled in my Face, and the marks of pa&s;t loves &s;hin'd in my Eyes. So in the Morning wat'ry Suns appear, and &s;peak that rains were either pa&s;t or coming. <HI>A|dra&s;tus</HI> &s;mil'd to &s;ee the Danger fled, thank'd me, and &s;wore he never &s;hou'd forget tho&s;e fears and hazards I had lately known, to give him Hea|ven and Happine&s;s in love. Then falling on his knees he ki&s;s'd my Hand, and &s;tole from that low &s;tep of Bli&s;s unto the la&s;t, we renew'd tho&s;e Joys we had not fini&s;h'd, and which my Husband had almo&s;t lo&s;t us by his &s;udden arrival; nor did we part till we had &s;ufficiently repay'd the inju|ry he had done.</P>
<P>Some days hereafter, <HI>Adra&s;tus</HI> told me he had newly come from the Earl of <HI>Rucana,</HI> that he was Jealous of the Duke, becau&s;e of &s;ome words he had accidentally let fall, and of his frequent vi&s;its; that he &s;wore revenge, and rag'd like <HI>Hercules</HI> in his Poy&s;on'd Shirt, or the unfortu|nate <HI>Bajazet</HI> in his Iron Cage. This gave me a thou&s;and fears; I knew <HI>Rucana</HI> brave, lov'd much, a Man that wou'd not always be impos'd upon, and had taught the Duke once already what to expect from him. <HI>I</HI> mu&s;t confe&s;s <HI>I</HI> lov'd <HI>Adra&s;tus</HI> much, but withal cou'd not chu&s;e but fear for a man who was my Husband, and who
<PB N="69" REF="80"> &s;till doated on me when in my Company, mau|gre all tho&s;e Charms his new Mi&s;tre&s;s po&s;&s;e&s;s'd. <HI>I</HI> charg'd <HI>Adra&s;tus</HI> to run and &s;eek him, and prevent (if po&s;&s;ible) his vi&s;it to the Counte&s;s that Night. The Lover flew to obey me, and <HI>I</HI> re&s;ted impatient of his &s;tay, longing to know the &s;ucce&s;s of our project. In the mean time my Husband had gone to <HI>Rucana</HI>'s, where after &s;ome words had pa&s;t between them, (of which few were Witne&s;s) they went into the Garden to begin that Tragedy which I &s;o much fear'd; for <HI>Minoya,</HI> after he had receiv'd three Wounds, run the Earl thorow the Body, and left him dead upon the place; that done, he leapt over the Garden wall, and coming ha&s;tily thorow the Streets with his Cloak muffled about him, in the dark and without Attendants, he was met by <HI>A|dra&s;tus,</HI> who &s;eeing he came from his Brother's &s;tept clo&s;e up to him, and &s;uddenly cry'd <HI>Your Grace has been la&s;t with</HI> Rucana. The Duke terrified with his guilt, dreamt of nothing le&s;s than his friend; and judging him who ask'd the que&s;tion privy to what had pa&s;t, drew his Sword, and at the fir&s;t thru&s;t run him into the Arm. <HI>A|dra&s;tus</HI> &s;urpris'd with this return, concluded the Duke had a de&s;ign upon his Life, and in his own defence us'd all the Arts of a good Sword&s;man, and left my Husband's Soul taking its flight from that pa&s;&s;age he had given it in his left Brea&s;t. The noi&s;e of Swords had drawn a con&s;iderable number of People together, and &s;everal had &s;een the Duke the fir&s;t aggre&s;&s;or, &s;o that none offer'd to &s;eize him. He came &s;traight to me with his all bloody in his hand, and throwing him&s;elf at my feet; he fix'd his Eyes upon me, &s;et the
<PB N="70" REF="81"> point to his Brea&s;t, and cry'd, Here <HI>I</HI> mu&s;t re|ceive my doom for that Crime <HI>I</HI> have unwillingly committed; if <HI>Timandra</HI> acquit me, <HI>I</HI> am able to defend my innocence before the Gods them&s;elves, but if &s;he do not, then <HI>Adra&s;tus</HI> falls to appea&s;e the angry Gho&s;t of his Friend. <HI>I</HI> knew not what to think, the Duke, the Earl run equally in my Mind; his Cloaths and Sword be&s;prinkled both with Blood, taught me to fear the wor&s;t; and <HI>I</HI> cou'd hardly &s;ay, &s;peak on, is the Duke my Hus|band well? He all &s;orrow &s;tarted up, &s;tared wildly upon me, and cry'd <HI>Minoya</HI> was no more; at this <HI>I</HI> fainted, and when <HI>I</HI> came to my &s;elf a|gain, <HI>I</HI> found the lovely Murd'rer at my feet weeping and begging hard for Mercy; he &s;how'd me his innocence, &s;wore he wou'd love me to death, tho' extended on the Rack and all his joynts di&s;&s;ever'd; that if <HI>I</HI> remembred him as the Au|thor of my Husband's death, he'd own it to the World a ba&s;e treacherous Murder, and throw a|way a Life that was not worth his keeping &s;ince undervalu'd by me: Then ask'd me if <HI>I</HI> cou'd &s;ee that Neck &s;tretch'd out under the hands of a common Executioner, that I had &s;o often em|brac'd in my longing Arms, or his Body hung in Chains like the loath'd Carca&s;e of &s;ome wild Ruffi|an or ba&s;e Malefactor, expos'd to contempt, and be the Object of each raskals mirth; conjur'd me to remember all our Joys pa&s;t, his pre&s;ent Grief, and con&s;tant Love. Then rai&s;ing him&s;elf up a|gain, he laid hold of his Sword, curs'd his Stars, his Fortune, and Him&s;elf; Swore he'd end his Life that moment, pointed it to his Bo&s;om, then <GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter">ook'd again on me, threw it from him, fell at my feet, groan'd and melted into a Woman's
<PB N="71" REF="81"> weakne&s;s, and faintly murmur'd, can <HI>I</HI> leave <HI>Timandra?</HI> No! No! I cannot, that were to lo&s;e Heaven and Life too. In the mean time the Officers came with a Warrant to apprehend him. I heard the noi&s;e upon the Stairs, and de&s;ir'd him (but in vain) to provide for his &s;afety. When they enter'd he aro&s;e and told them if they want|ed the Man had kill'd <HI>Minoya</HI> he was ready to an&s;wer for him. Then looking back on me, he ask'd me if he &s;hou'd pre&s;erve his Life, or if he was indifferent to me, if the la&s;t, he knew what to do, for he cou'd ne're re&s;olve to Live, unle&s;s <HI>Timandra</HI> Lov'd him, and &s;eeing I did not an|&s;wer, come (&s;aid he to the Officers) let us go where Ju&s;tice calls for us, 'twixt grief and Love <HI>I</HI> faintly look'd after him, and bid him remem|ber that <HI>I ne're was cruel.</HI></P>
<P>When he was gone, <HI>I</HI> began to know &s;ome re&s;pite of my &s;orrows, and in that &s;tate cou'd con|&s;ider the nature of the Accident, and my own Circum&s;tances. <HI>I</HI> remembred the Duke's Love when <HI>I</HI> marry'd him, his good Nature and fond Compliance with every thing <HI>I</HI> de&s;ir'd. Then call'd to view <HI>Adra&s;tus,</HI> &s;aw him my fir&s;t Lover, Con&s;tant to a wonder, that had conceal'd tho&s;e favours from the World which <HI>I</HI> had be&s;tow'd upon him, had kill'd his Friend in his own de|fence, full of Repentance, but more of Love; de&s;pi&s;ing his Life for my Love, and &s;etting that value upon things, ju&s;t as he found I e&s;teemed them. Then <HI>I</HI> was all fear for him, I &s;aw the Duke's Friends already his Enemies, and knew how Ju&s;tice might be wre&s;ted. But &s;till my cares give place to flattering Hope; <HI>I</HI> remembred we were now both &s;ingle, that Heaven &s;eem'd to
<PB N="72" REF="82"> have ordain'd us for one another, becau&s;e of that Sympathy between our Hearts and Natures, and dreamt already of a Heav'n to come; for fear is but the pro&s;pect of a future ill, which pain'd we view and yet might &s;hun with ea&s;e, cau&s;e when our thoughts on Phantoms are employ'd, Gi|ants are made, which the next moment annihi|lates.</P>
<P>While thus <HI>I</HI> &s;trove to delude and cozen my &s;elf, it was told me the Earl of <HI>Rucana</HI> was found dead in his own Garden, that &s;ome People had &s;een the Murderer make his e&s;cape over the Wall, and had pur&s;u'd him &s;o clo&s;e, they &s;aw him a&s;|&s;ault the Gentleman by whom he was kill'd, and puni&s;h'd for that Blood he had &s;o lately &s;hed. <HI>I</HI> was heartily &s;orry for the Accident, and equally griev'd the lo&s;s of that good unfortunate Man and his fair Counte&s;s, who felt double torments, becau&s;e &s;he knew (tho' innocent) her &s;elf the cau&s;e of this great mi&s;chief. But then to allay my &s;orrow, <HI>I</HI> look'd on <HI>Adra&s;tus</HI> as Earl of <HI>Ru|cana,</HI> and imagin'd Heav'n had wrought that unlook'd for Happine&s;s, becau&s;e it de&s;ign'd to give me joy in full; &s;corn'd a &s;canty Bli&s;s weigh'd out by Drams and Scruples, and threw upon me what my ambition &s;carce dur&s;t hope for.</P>
<P>The Duke's Relations came frequently to &s;ee me, and to condole with me that lo&s;s, which up|on &s;econd thoughts <HI>I</HI> &s;carce e&s;teem'd one. <HI>I</HI> cou'd have wi&s;h'd them le&s;s kind, or at lea&s;t le&s;s for|mal; and 'twas a hard task for me to di&s;&s;emble my real thoughts, and feign a &s;orrow equal to my lo&s;s. But harder when they pre&s;t me to in|form them if any words or actions proceeded the Duke's death, from which they could infer pre|meditated
<PB N="73" REF="82"> Murder, and con&s;trued all <HI>Adra&s;tus</HI> e're had done to &s;erve their purpo&s;e; and <HI>I</HI> had it (by &s;ome of my be&s;t Friends) privately told me, that they &s;u&s;pected me con&s;cious to the de|&s;ign, becau&s;e <HI>I</HI> had always &s;hown a more than common e&s;teem for the Murd'rer. This mo&s;t of all afflicted me, not that <HI>I</HI> fear'd any pre&s;ent danger from their Malice, but becau&s;e <HI>I</HI> look'd upon it as an impediment to that Marriage <HI>I</HI> had already promis'd my &s;elf with <HI>Adra&s;tus,</HI> and con|&s;idered how evidently <HI>I</HI> ruin'd my Honour and Reputation, if <HI>I</HI> took to my Bed the Man who had kill'd my Husband, and whom too many judg'd the wilful Author of his death, to promote and &s;ecure his own Happine&s;s.</P>
<P>While <HI>I</HI> was thus di&s;tracted between the di|&s;tant pro&s;pect of future Happine&s;s and pre&s;ent Cares; <HI>Zibelline</HI> told me that <HI>Curacas</HI> had &s;ome|thing of Con&s;equence to impart to me. <HI>I</HI> long'd to know what was become of his Ma&s;ter, if he bore his confinement patiently, and if he &s;till lov'd me. The faithful Servant an&s;wered me with &s;ighs, and delivered me that Letter which con|firm'd all my fears. The words were the&s;e, if <HI>I</HI> remember.</P>
<LETTER LANG="eng">
<P><HI>THis day I come to my Tryal, and am alrea|dy a&s;&s;ur'd that Bani&s;hment is my doom. 'Tis impo&s;&s;ible to find me guilty of</HI> Minoya<HI>'s death, but (to &s;atisfie that number of Enemies this accident has brought me) I am charg'd with Crimes of another Nature. I live for</HI> Timandra, <HI>and in whatever corner of the world I &s;pend my days, there I &s;hall find happine&s;s if &s;he prove con|&s;tant. Let me find her alone to night, for I</HI>
<PB N="74" REF="83"> <HI>have no doubt of obtaining immediate liberty, in order to a longer and wor&s;e Impri&s;onment, made &s;o by its di&s;tance from the Obect of all my wi&s;hes.</HI></P>
<CLOSER><SIGNED>Adra&s;tus.</SIGNED></CLOSER>
</LETTER>
<P>This Letter gave me all the &s;orrow imagina|ble, I had lo&s;t my Husband, and was then con|vinc'd I &s;hou'd lo&s;e my Lover too. I knew part of what the World thought of me, and found I &s;hou'd be left to mourn my Misfortunes by my &s;elf. My Mother was dead &s;everal Months be|fore that time, and whether &s;he &s;u&s;pected the frail|ty of my Virtue or not, I am not po&s;itive, but there wanted not tho&s;e who &s;aid &s;he did, and that it made too deep an impre&s;&s;ion upon her Heart, and conduc'd to her &s;peedier Journey into the other World.</P>
<P>At Night the mourning Lover came, I re|ceiv'd him with that &s;orrow which our mutual Misfortunes had taught me; and he unable to &s;peak, embrac'd my knees, wept, and look'd up|on me. Thus for a while we continued dumb, and experienc'd the Truth of that Maxim, that Wounds are deepe&s;t and mo&s;t dangerous that Bleed inwards. But at la&s;t this Lethargy which often attends immoderate grief, was by degrees weakned, and the lovely Youth could faintly pronounce the&s;e words. Can the merciful <HI>Ti|mandra</HI> be my Enemy? Can &s;he con&s;ent to my Bani&s;hment from <HI>Capac?</HI> And &s;hall I be ble&s;t with her pre&s;ence but three &s;hort days? (for no more have my Judges allow'd me) And mu&s;t the remainder of my Life be &s;pent in ab&s;ence, a Hell &s;ufficient for the Puni&s;hment of Parricide? Nay
<PB N="75" REF="83"> broken Vows or incon&s;tant Love, a Crime yet greater, and known only among&s;t Infidels. I &s;har'd all his pains, and after I had ask'd him if he had &s;tol'n with privacy enough to my Hou&s;e; I caught him in my Arms, ki&s;s'd him, and &s;poke all that my tender Heart could dictate to give him ea&s;e. He &s;till urg'd his Con&s;tancy and Love, his pre&s;ent mi&s;ery and pro&s;pect of a greater, con|jur'd me to be yet more kind, and &s;ince he could not permit me to go along with him into a &s;trange Country, beg'd I'd con&s;ent to Marry him and tye my &s;elf for ever his: Time, his inno|cence, and his Friends might have his Sentence repeal'd, and he doubted not if <HI>I</HI> lov'd him now, of being more happy in his own Country, than ever he had yet been. He &s;et before me a full Enjoyment of that Heaven in Love which hi|therto we had only ta&s;ted; that his Innocence was evident to every Man, who&s;e opinion was not prejudicated, that none wou'd condemn me, but tho&s;e who envy'd my Charms and Happi|ne&s;s; that Honour at be&s;t was but a <HI>Chimera</HI> in|vented to plea&s;e giddy fools, and per&s;wade them into a belief of their own worth, merit, and judgment, e're the plea&s;ures of Love were fully known; and preach'd up by Women in Years, to keep younger ones from &s;haring the Ble&s;&s;ing. That nothing was more Honourable (if I wor|&s;hip'd that &s;hadow) than a con&s;tant pa&s;&s;ion. It &s;poke us fix'd in our Choice, and by con&s;equence of a good Judgment, that enabled us at fir&s;t to make that Choice of which we had never repent|ed. That we were born to love, that without it we were meer pieces of moving Earth, dull Phlegmatick lumps, fit only for the Conver&s;ati|on,
<PB N="76" REF="84"> or at lea&s;t the Company of Brute Bea&s;ts, that it could ne're be known, (meaning my Marriage) that he knew how to value my Beau|ty, and, that even when old Age &s;eiz'd me I would be &s;till the &s;ame to him; he'd call my fir&s;t Embraces back to view, remember what I then was, and again think me the &s;ame, for tho' he gra&s;pt me cold and wither'd in his Arms, he'd delude him&s;elf with the fancy or Idea of my Youth, imagination &s;hou'd &s;upply what Years had lo&s;t, and I &s;hou'd be &s;till the Charming, Gay, the Young, belov'd <HI>Timandra.</HI> In &s;hort, Madam, I was again o'recome by this invinci|ble Lover; and tho' <HI>Minoya</HI> had been buried not above eight weeks, I gave my hand and with it my Heart to this Young graceful Man, tho' not before we had brib'd a jolly Prie&s;t with a handful of Pi&s;tols to a &s;ilence equal with that of the Grave, and I had obtain'd my Husband's promi&s;e not to depart the Kingdom, but to live privately with me till Fortune &s;hou'd be as much his friend as Love had been. We &s;pent the Night with that plea&s;ure known only to happy Lo|vers; &s;ome fears and cares we had which &s;erv'd to give it ta&s;te, but none &s;ufficient to de&s;troy the Ble&s;&s;ing.</P>
<P>In the Morning he waited upon his Friends, who all &s;incerely griev'd his Misfortune, and he &s;eemingly prepar'd every thing for his &s;udden departure. Three days thus &s;pent, he took a &s;olemn farewel of them all without &s;orrow, be|cau&s;e in me he found all that made him happy, for the po&s;&s;e&s;&s;ion of tho&s;e belov'd is at any time a double recompence for the lo&s;s of Liberty.</P>
<PB N="77" REF="84">
<P> It is not, Madam, the cu&s;tom of our Coun|try, to mourn the lo&s;s of a Husband above a week, and the grave&s;t Matrons are &s;atisfied with the long penance of Fourteen days in Tears. So that I was already Courted by &s;everal who had envy'd the Duke's Happine&s;s; and that Beauty which prov'd always fatal to my &s;elf and others, in a &s;hort time got me a new crowd of Adorers, and tho' I was not look'd upon as a Woman nicely Virtuous, yet &s;till my Eyes atton'd for that defect, and the more &s;olid part of Mankind judg'd (becau&s;e I was Young) that a Grave Husband and good advice might reclaim me, and work wonderful changes and effects upon my ea&s;ie Nature. Among&s;t the fir&s;t that claim'd my Love <HI>A&s;&s;apan</HI> appear'd, I have already, Ma|dam, given you the Character of that Man; but &s;hall now add that Love had transform'd him, for tho' he was every way a Man truly taking, and one that well de&s;erv'd a Lady's good opini|on; yet this pa&s;&s;ion to which he had been mo&s;t|ly a &s;tranger, wrought great alterations. For whereas he was formerly addicted to Hunting, Riding, and &s;uch Manlike Exerci&s;es; he became now tender in his Nature, gentle and Complai|&s;ant, &s;poke pa&s;&s;ionately, lov'd dancing, Poetry, Romances, and had all the &s;oftne&s;s and inclinati|ons of a Lover. He griev'd the lo&s;s of his Friend <HI>Minoya,</HI> but had too great an e&s;teem of me, to believe what &s;ome People &s;poke of my betraying his Honour or my own.</P>
<P><HI>Adra&s;tus</HI> (who mov'd no farther from me than into the Garden or another Room) knew all that pa&s;t, and was the more happy in his Confinement, when he &s;aw others labour to ob|tain
<PB N="78" REF="85"> what he unknown and with ea&s;e po&s;&s;e&s;t&punc; For if the Addre&s;&s;es of a Gallant &s;erve often to reclaim the Heart of an indifferent Husband; much more mu&s;t the real pa&s;&s;ion of another in|flame a Man that lov'd &s;o violently. But For|tune that was never my Friend, at la&s;t betray'd the &s;ecret Lover. For <HI>A&s;&s;apan</HI> (one day as he came to my Hou&s;e) met the happy Man at the Garden Door. They were equally &s;urpriz'd and equally griev'd the unluckly encounter. <HI>Adra&s;tus</HI> however embrac'd him, and told him he had not yet departed <HI>Capac,</HI> becau&s;e Love had been his Friend, and had till that time protected him. That his Life and Honour were now in his hands, and he dreamt no danger from a Man of <HI>A&s;&s;apan</HI>'s merit. The Earl an&s;wered with that Di&s;cretion or Judgment which was natural to him; but withal let him know he had been unkind, in not tru&s;ting to his Friend&s;hip before Nece&s;&s;ity (not Choice) had taught him &s;o to do. <HI>Adra&s;tus</HI> alledg'd for an excu&s;e, how much I was concern'd in his Conceal|ment, and that it was not Honourable to betray a Lady's &s;ecrets, e&s;pecially tho&s;e of love, without her po&s;itive command for it; and hop'd he wou'd Pardon a Crime of which love not want of Friend|&s;hip was the Author. <HI>A&s;&s;apan</HI> &s;mil'd, and gave him all tho&s;e a&s;&s;urances of his &s;afety which Oaths or words could yield; and after they had di&s;|cours'd &s;ome time about the inju&s;tice of his Sen|tence, they came to &s;ee me. I was amaz'd at the unlook'd for Accident, and had almo&s;t fainted with the &s;udden Apprehen&s;ion of my Husband's danger. When <HI>A&s;&s;apan,</HI> who &s;aw my fears, ap|proach'd, and begg'd a thou&s;and Pardons for be|ing the Author of my griefs; Swore he was glad
<PB N="79" REF="85"> to &s;ee his Friend happy, commended my choice, and added, he wou'd not di&s;turb my happine&s;s, (tho' he lov'd much) to be Ma&s;ter of the World. I return'd him tho&s;e thanks his kindne&s;s merited, excus'd my &s;elf for not having &s;ooner acquaint|ed him with my Circum&s;tances, that it did not &s;uit with my mode&s;ty, and that I was not &s;orry for his knowledge, becau&s;e 'twas what my heart wou'd willingly have inform'd him of before. He an&s;wer'd, that my Honour and his Friends &s;afety &s;hould be his greate&s;t Care, that it was not convenient for my intere&s;t, that he &s;hou'd leave off his Suit &s;o &s;uddenly, becau&s;e the World had already &s;een him my Lover, that while he continued his addre&s;&s;es, none could &s;u&s;pect him con&s;cious of my real Fortunes, and he would for the future proclaim to all, my vir|tue, as hitherto he had done his Love.</P>
<P><HI>I</HI> was o'rejoy'd at this Re&s;olution the more, becau&s;e I did not think he would have born the Misfortune &s;o patiently, or the Affront <HI>I</HI> put upon him with &s;o much Moderation. When he was gone, <HI>Adra&s;tus</HI> (who had di&s;&s;embled his real Thoughts) began to let me know his Fears, that he doubted <HI>A&s;&s;apan</HI>'s virtue would not be proof again&s;t &s;o many Charms; that Love and Beauty had often de&s;troy'd the mo&s;t &s;etled Re&s;o|lutions, and trampled Honour under Foot: that he was a dangerous Friend, and knew the Arts of Love, and all the weakne&s;s of a Woman's na|ture. I found the aim of all this Di&s;cour&s;e, and cou'd almo&s;t have reprov'd him for his fears. But then con&s;idering his Jealou&s;ie as the Child of Love, I &s;mil'd, and embrac'd him, gave him all the Ble&s;&s;ings mighty Love be&s;tows, and lull'd his fears a&s;leep.</P>
<PB N="80" REF="86">
<P> <HI>A&s;&s;apan</HI> came frequently to &s;ee me, and I could ob&s;erve nothing in his Words and Actions, that was not quadrant to tho&s;e Promi&s;es he had lately made me. But at la&s;t, prevail'd upon ei|ther by the heat of his Love, or the hopes of my weakne&s;s, he made tho&s;e Addre&s;&s;es which did not at all plea&s;e me, and &s;wore <HI>Adra&s;tus</HI> was too happy, that he could no longer be my Friend or his, but a Lover to the one, and a con&s;tant Rival to the other. This cruel and &s;udden change gave me inexpre&s;&s;ible &s;orrow, and taught me to fear a thou&s;and Mi&s;chiefs; then, as an addition to my Affliction, I &s;aw it was what I cou'd not &s;afely communicate to the lovely Partner of all my Cares, for when mighty pains are in one Bo&s;om found, 'tis over-charg'd and may in time be rent, but having got a brea&s;t that &s;hares the load, they &s;traight take Wing and leave the oppre&s;&s;ed Heart, the o'reburden'd Soul mounts upwards, joys in its new Liberty, and finds its Weights remov'd.</P>
<P>In the mean time the Earl continued his Vi&s;its, and fail'd not to urge the violence of his flame, in words that never expre&s;s'd a mode&s;t Love; and one Day (the mo&s;t unfortunate I er'e had &s;een, or now can know) told me, if I was not marry'd to <HI>Adra&s;tus,</HI> I was not virtuous, and if I was, it &s;poke me regardle&s;s of my Honour, if I con&s;ider'd him as the Author of <HI>Minoya</HI>'s death, and remembred what the World thought of me in that Husband's time.</P>
<P>You &s;ee, Madam, how Men are converted by Love into as many different Re&s;olutions and Humours as <HI>Proteus</HI> e're knew &s;hapes; he who a few Days ago was all Love, all Friend&s;hip
<PB N="81" REF="86"> and Tenderne&s;s, now became ill-natur'd, indi&s;|creet, and unkind. I was about to let him know how much I re&s;ented what he had &s;aid, but then I remembred the weight of that &s;ecret with which my ill Fortune had intru&s;ted him, and with grief and anger painted in my Face, told him, he &s;poke not like the gen'rous <HI>A&s;&s;apan,</HI> for he was my Friend, nor could I believe the words meant to the Dutche&s;s of <HI>Minoya,</HI> becau&s;e I was a&s;&s;ur'd he once lov'd her, and had a better opi|nion of her Virtue. When he &s;aw me &s;o mo|de&s;t and calm in my An&s;wer, <HI>I</HI> fancy he was at fir&s;t &s;orry for his indi&s;cretion; but when men once doubt a Woman's virtue, 'tis impo&s;&s;ible they &s;hould Love, and where there was Love in the beginning Lu&s;t &s;upplys its ab&s;ence; though her faults have make her too deform'd for a Wife, yet her Beauty &s;erves to make her good enough for a Mi&s;tre&s;s; be&s;ides, tho&s;e who are known to have yielded to one Man, are often (if not always) by the uncharitable World &s;u&s;|pected of the &s;ame weakne&s;s towards another.</P>
<P>Thus it was with the unkind Earl, for (after he had paus'd &s;ome Minutes) he told me I mu&s;t con&s;ent to his Happine&s;s, or begin my own Mi&s;ery. This &s;entence fla&s;h'd like lightning to my Heart: I remain'd &s;ilent, anger and &s;or|row &s;har'd my Thoughts, and all my Courage was &s;carce able to &s;upport me. He &s;aw my Countenance, but mi&s;took my Pa&s;&s;ion, and from my &s;ilence drew Con&s;ent, caught me in his Arms, ki&s;s'd me, and ask'd if I was yet re&s;olv'd to ble&s;s him with Enjoyment? All his words were wounds, each of them reach'd my Soul, and I &s;till continued dumb. This he concludes a
<PB N="82" REF="87"> faint denial, embrac'd me in his Arms again, and when I offer'd to re&s;i&s;t, or call for help, he &s;wore <HI>Adra&s;tus</HI> &s;hould an&s;wer for my unkind|ne&s;s with his Life. Fear made me weak, and the &s;udden a&s;&s;ault bore my Virtue head-long before it. Weeping I lay beneath the treacherous Ma&s;s, and wi&s;h'd each moment he con&s;um'd in Joy, might bring whole Years of cruel deadly Pains. The gods look'd on and &s;aw <HI>Lucretia</HI> ravi&s;h'd, no wonder then they had no Thunder bolts in &s;tore, to relieve one who &s;o often had offended.</P>
<P>While thus in height of Plea&s;ure he lay drown'd, remembred what had pa&s;s'd to move a new de&s;ire, rov'd wildly and immode&s;tly o're each part to kindle expiring Flames, and &s;urfeit|ed with Joy &s;till &s;ought for more. The un|lucky <HI>Adra&s;tus</HI> (led by wild Chance, or by un|erring Fate) enter'd the Room to find his lov'd <HI>Timandra. I</HI> &s;aw him fir&s;t, but gods you only know what torments &s;eiz'd my Mind, and rack'd my guilty Soul! A while he &s;tood immovable and gaz'd, then fury enter'd, and his judgment fled, all thoughts of mercy from his nature were excluded; revenge (the darling of his Soul) grew high, and in that frenzy drawing nigh the Bed, with one dire &s;troak (as &s;wift and &s;udden as if from Heav'n it had come) he &s;tab'd the guilty Ravi&s;her to the Heart. Curs'd be the hour (he cry'd) when fir&s;t I lov'd, but doubly that in which I fir&s;t betray'd <HI>Minoya!</HI> Heav'n! ju&s;t Heav'n! has now repay'd that injury I did him. The Earl groan'd, gra&s;p'd at his Sword, and in that Acti|on dy'd. Be&s;mear'd with Blood all mixt with briny Tears, trembling and fainting from the
<PB N="83" REF="87"> Bed I ro&s;e, then threw my &s;elf half dead upon the Ground, weakly I gra&s;p'd the Murderer's &s;haking Knees, and in my Arms with dying fervour hugg'd them, beg'd as he &s;till had lov'd, he'd now prove kind, and if he thought my Heart had given con&s;ent, he'd tear it panting from my treacherous Brea&s;t; or if he'd make me Mi&s;tre&s;s of that Steel, that &s;moak'd with a Letcher's Blood yet hot upon it, my guilty Arms or Limbs that gra&s;p'd the Ravi&s;her, or in the lea&s;t contributed to the advancement of his Plea&s;ure, and &s;purr'd his triffling Lu&s;t to greater fiercer Flights, &s;hould in a moment be divided from my Body, even that tender Body which he had &s;o oft embrac'd, and thrown away as things of dangerous Con&s;equence to the re&s;t, now grown infectious ba&s;e and u&s;ele&s;s. Con|jur'd him to remember, how at my Feet he &s;ighing lay, when ju&s;t return'd from <HI>Chira,</HI> how he had beg'd and lov'd that Night I re|ceiv'd him for my Husband, and how for his &s;ake I had abandon'd Honour, Virtue and my Vows, and all that peace of Mind which inno|cence be&s;tows, and tho&s;e who deviate from the right ne're know. Trembling he held the fatal Dagger up, view'd me with rolling Eyes, and wildly cry'd, Ah Heaven! Mu&s;t &s;he dye, and mu&s;t <HI>Adra&s;tus</HI> be the Author&mdash;No!&mdash;Oh <HI>Timandra!</HI> Why wert thou not le&s;s Fair, or more Virtuous? And I, unhappy I, le&s;s in Love. This &s;aid, he kneel'd and cla&s;p'd me in his Arms, bid me farewel, and remember him no more; then &s;tarting up, he exclaim'd again&s;t Heaven and me, rav'd for &s;ome Minutes, then again grew calm; bid me again farewel, and
<PB N="84" REF="88"> beg'd I would forgive what he had &s;aid; then forc'd the bloody Dagger to his Heart, and fall|ing by me on the Floor expir'd. I &s;hriek'd when that &s;ad &s;troak was given, &s;trove to recal his parting Soul, and &s;top its flight to Heav'n. I pull'd the dreadful in&s;trument of Death from that Brea&s;t, where I had &s;o often re&s;ted my wel|come Arms, when wearied with exce&s;s of Love, and that &s;o often equally &s;har'd my Joys and Cares, ki&s;s'd his pale Cheeks, and wa&s;h'd them with my Tears. I remembred all his kind Looks, his &s;weet Embraces, his moving Words, his Charms, and con&s;tant Love; and to &s;umm up all my griefs in one Word, Adra&s;tus <HI>was no more, for me he liv'd, and for my Crimes he dy'd.</HI></P>
<P>The fir&s;t who enter'd the Room were <HI>Zibel|line</HI> and <HI>Curacas.</HI> The &s;ad Object mov'd both their pity and wonder; the faithful Servant em|brac'd the dead Body of his once kind Ma&s;ter, and (if he had not been prevented by my Maid) had certainly po&s;ted after him into the other World. This would have added to my grief, if it had been capable of Addition. I told them the whole &s;eries of this Tragical Story, and <HI>A&s;&s;apan</HI>'s Body confirm'd the Truth. Then af|ter I had long deliberated on what was to be done, and con&s;ider'd the &s;hame and hazard that attended my &s;tay, I took what Jewels and Mo|ney I had, and that very night (attended only by my faithful Maid and the Servant of my departed Husband) I began my Journey, for|tunate beyond my hopes, &s;ince it made me known to you. I need not, Madam, tell you, how after I had travell'd eight long Days and
<PB N="85" REF="88"> Nights o're-whelm'd with grief, and &s;urrounded with deadly Fears, and having lo&s;t my way, my pitying Stars directed me to your Hou&s;e. Let it &s;uffice, that when I left you I went with|out any danger beyond Seas, where I have con|fin'd my &s;elf to a Mona&s;try, and tho' I am dai|ly oblig'd to attend Religious Excerci&s;es, I have neverthele&s;s found a time to give you that &s;a|tisfaction you de&s;ir'd, and &s;hall be glad to re|ceive that faithful Journal of your Amours, which you have promis'd to &s;end me. I &s;hall end with the following Lines I made at Sea in my Voy|age hither, when I have confe&s;s'd my &s;elf your Debtor for your Cou&s;in the Abbe&s;s of <HI>M&mdash;s</HI> kindne&s;s to me.</P>
<LG>
<L><HI>Men needy grown, wi&s;h for their Fortunes pa&s;t,</HI></L>
<L><HI>Which, if obtain'd, they think wou'd always la&s;t.</HI></L>
<L><HI>The Lover mourns, when</HI> Sylvia <HI>proves unkind;</HI></L>
<L><HI>And Seamen fear, when threatned by the Wind.</HI></L>
<L><HI>The married Man forgets his once lov'd Bed,</HI></L>
<L><HI>And blu&s;hing Maids think Men forget to Wed.</HI></L>
<L><HI>He that's grown Rich &s;till &s;weats and toils for more,</HI></L>
<L><HI>And Quality in private wou'd be Whore.</HI></L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L><HI>Give to the Spend-thrift back his lo&s;t E&s;tate,</HI></L>
<L><HI>And he forgets tho&s;e wants he knew of late;</HI></L>
<L><HI>His po&s;ting Years in Riots &s;hou'd be &s;pent,</HI></L>
<L><HI>Grow poor too &s;oon, and then too late repent.</HI></L>
<L><HI>Should</HI> Sylvia <HI>&s;mile, her Lover &s;treight is cloy'd;</HI></L>
<L><HI>Begins to hate, becau&s;e &s;he's half enjoy'd:</HI></L>
<L><HI>Forgets her Charms, and damns his former wi&s;h;</HI></L>
<L><HI>And flies 'cau&s;e 'tis an ea&s;ie purchas'd Bli&s;s.</HI></L>
<L><HI>Should Winds on Seamen always fairly blow,</HI></L>
<L><HI>Reliev'd from hazard they wou'd Athei&s;ts grow.</HI></L>
<PB N="86" REF="89">
<L> <HI>"Continu'd plea&s;ure ta&s;tle&s;s comfort bears;</HI></L>
<L><HI>"Joy is not Joy, if 'tis not mixt with fears.</HI></L>
<L><HI>Re&s;tore the Husband to his freedom lo&s;t,</HI></L>
<L><HI>He now affects what once he hated mo&s;t.</HI></L>
<L><HI>Wearied with change of Loves, at la&s;t he's wi&s;e,</HI></L>
<L><HI>Longs to be that which once he did de&s;pi&s;e;</HI></L>
<L><HI>And Lu&s;t no &s;ooner falls than Virtue has its ri&s;e.</HI></L>
<L><HI>Give to the Maid her wi&s;h, a married Life;</HI></L>
<L><HI>That got, &s;he grieves the cares attend a Wife:</HI></L>
<L><HI>Hates what &s;he has, and wi&s;hes Time recall'd,</HI></L>
<L><HI>And often weeps to &s;ee occa&s;ion bal'd.</HI></L>
<L><HI>If he that's Rich &s;hould &s;till encrea&s;e his Wealth,</HI></L>
<L><HI>Yet double that, when &s;ick it buys not health:</HI></L>
<L><HI>The more it grows, his pains with it encrea&s;e;</HI></L>
<L><HI>His Cares grow greater, and his Plea&s;ure le&s;s.</HI></L>
<L><HI>To nodding Virtue wi&s;h'd enjoyment give,</HI></L>
<L><HI>And Tears take place where Joy began to live.</HI></L>
<L><HI>She feels that Bli&s;s &s;he ne're can know again,</HI></L>
<L><HI>A pain in Plea&s;ure, and a Joy in pain.</HI></L>
<L><HI>Thus &s;till we live, and long to be undone;</HI></L>
<L><HI>Re&s;tle&s;s in ea&s;e, to toils and cares we run.</HI></L>
<L><HI>Strange! Nature prompts to every thing forbid,</HI></L>
<L><HI>Shows flowry Banks, in which are Serpents hid.</HI></L>
</LG>
</DIV2>
<CLOSER><SIGNED>Your, <HI>&amp;c.</HI> Timandra.</SIGNED></CLOSER>
<TRAILER>FINIS.</TRAILER>
</DIV1>
</BODY>
</TEXT>
<TEXT LANG="eng">
<FRONT>
<DIV1 TYPE="title page">
<PB REF="89">
<P>THE Unhappy Mi&s;take: OR, THE FATE OF CROSS'D LOVES.</P>
<P>A NOVEL.</P>
<P>Written by Mr. <HI>D. Cr&mdash;rd,</HI> Gent.</P>
<P><HI>LONDON,</HI> Printed for <HI>Job Au&s;tin</HI> in <HI>Fleet-Street,</HI> and &s;old by the Book&s;ellers of <HI>London</HI> and <HI>We&s;tmin&s;ter,</HI> 1700.</P>
</DIV1>
</FRONT>
<BODY>
<DIV1 TYPE="letter">
<PB REF="90">
<PB N="89" REF="90">
<HEAD>THE Unhappy Mi&s;take, <HI>&amp;c.</HI></HEAD>
<HEAD>Sirena <HI>to the Lovely</HI> Timandra.</HEAD>
<P>THAT Journal you &s;ent me of your Amours, has confirm'd me your debtor: I grieve your Misfortune, and the death of that con&s;tant Lover <HI>Adra&s;tus,</HI> and am &s;orry that <HI>Minoya</HI> fell by the hand of a Man he had &s;o long honoured and e&s;teem'd. But to repay part of that Sum I owe, take the fol|lowing Account, with the Truth of every Acci|dent, as far as my memory could &s;erve me. And as <HI>I</HI> believe you have conceal'd nothing from me, &s;o you will find me a very plain dealer in mine, and my order the &s;ame, in which you deliver'd yours, without the tedious preambles of Birth, Education, <HI>&amp;c.</HI> with many other trivial Cir|cum&s;tances, which relate not at any time to the &s;tory of my Love, or to your Diverti&s;ement, which is my only aim.</P>
<P>My Father (the Duke of <HI>Xen&s;a)</HI> wearied out with the weight of &s;everal Employments, in which he had long officiated, and after &s;everal Services done to his Prince and Friends, at la&s;t retir'd to
<PB N="90" REF="91"> his plea&s;ant Country Seat, &s;ituated near a calm Sea, but di&s;tant Seven or Eight days Journey from <HI>Coloa</HI> (the Metropolis of <HI>Fabria)</HI> made rich, by the con&s;tant Court and Bounty of <HI>Ziphares</HI> the pre&s;ent Soveraign. At this time I had reach'd the thirteenth Year of my Age, and you may think perhaps, I was too Young to be &s;en&s;ible of that mighty Pa&s;&s;ion, Love. But this I know, that for two Years before my Father had abandon'd the Court, I felt a certain tenderne&s;s for the Young <HI>Martius;</HI> and if I had not all tho&s;e little cares and plea&s;ant pains which riper flames in&s;pire, I knew neverthele&s;s what it was to grieve at part|ing. His Father (the Duke of <HI>Mangroa)</HI> had lo&s;t a Brother (the Count <HI>Torru&s;co)</HI> by <HI>Xen&s;a</HI>'s hand, from which an irreconcilable feud had commenc'd between our Families. But Heav'n (that often Blinds and infatuates tho&s;e whom it de&s;igns to puni&s;h) permitted the Children to be po&s;&s;e&s;s'd with thoughts quite different from tho&s;e of their Parents; for the Charming <HI>Indoretta (Mangroa</HI>'s only Daughter) had already made my Brother a Pri&s;oner to her Beauty. I was too &s;en|&s;ible of this &s;eeming union, and (tho' Young) forbore not to flatter my &s;elf with the hopes of coming Happine&s;s. The Lovely <HI>Martius</HI> fail'd not to contribute to the deceit, and to give me a Charming de&s;cription of the World, e're my Journey in it was half begun; and &s;how'd me all the &s;weets of Love, without its bitter allays. His Si&s;ter &s;poke for him, and by the &s;ame Priviledge and Example, I recommended <HI>Artaxus</HI> as my Brother, and her Lover.</P>
<P>What opportunities we had were &s;tole with hazard, con&s;equently &s;hort, and imploy'd to the
<PB N="91" REF="91"> be&s;t Advantage. Our Mothers were both privy to what pa&s;t, and equally favour'd our growing pa&s;&s;ions. This was a Heav'n of plea&s;ure to what I felt, when I &s;aw my &s;elf confin'd to a Coun|try Hou&s;e, and all tho&s;e Ble&s;&s;ings lo&s;t; I valu'd each moment of the time pa&s;t at a double price, and imagin'd, that whole Years of Conver&s;ation wou'd impart the &s;ame Joys tho&s;e &s;tol'n hours had given. My Brother felt an equal pain, the fair <HI>Indoretta</HI> was the Object of all his thoughts, the Mi&s;tre&s;s of his Soul, and the end of all his wi&s;hes. He wou'd often (&s;ighing) complain of that Obe|dience, he was forc'd to pay to his Father. Ah <HI>Sirena!</HI> (wou'd he cry) were thy Charms as powerful, as tho&s;e of the lovely <HI>Indoretta,</HI> the gen'rous <HI>Martius</HI> had e're now follow'd us into the Country, and tho' his Father (&s;tubborn as my own) is aver&s;e to any alliance with our Fa|mily, he had certainly found out a time to &s;ee us, and I had known what thoughts the Charming Fair had of me. But &s;ure he loves not! and for|gets to plead my Cau&s;e. I had all tho&s;e pains for the ab&s;ence of <HI>Martius</HI> which my Brother expre&s;s'd, but hid them &s;o carefully, that he thought they proceeded only from a &s;en&s;e of his Suffer|ings.</P>
<P>In the mean time my Father had other re&s;oluti|ons, which he &s;trove &s;peedily to accompli&s;h. Count <HI>Bonzeda</HI> liv'd in <HI>Mangroa</HI>'s Hou&s;e, which was divided from ours only by our adjoyning Gar|dens. And tho' <HI>Xen&s;a</HI> hated his friend, he had no aver&s;ion for him; becau&s;e he was a Man of a va&s;t E&s;tate, much in his Princes favour, and had all tho&s;e Advantages, which in this Age &s;erve to recommend a Husband. He had been a
<PB N="92" REF="92"> Widower five Years, but more remarkable for being the Brother of the Lovely <HI>Manderina.</HI> The Count had &s;een me, and lov'd; my Father (becau&s;e it &s;erv'd his interre&s;t) was pleas'd to &s;ee that Pa&s;&s;ion he had for me, and without con&s;ult|ing my inclinations, the Match was immediately re&s;olv'd upon. <HI>Artaxus</HI> (who fear'd nothing more than the lo&s;s of his <HI>Indoretta)</HI> was &s;en&s;ibly afflicted at the&s;e proceedings, and &s;aw how far this Marriage wou'd make again&s;t his intere&s;t that way. He complain'd of me, and of his Fortune, and us'd all the Arguments that could per&s;wade a Young Heart (fond of another Man) to di&s;obedience and hatred. My Father fail'd not to ob&s;erve my indifferency, but mi&s;taking the Cau&s;e, attributes all to Mode&s;ty, and flatters me into compliance. I begg'd &s;ome time to con|&s;ider of it, and he (without thinking it &s;everity, or oppo&s;ite to my real &s;entiments of <HI>Bonzeda)</HI> al|low'd me only fourteen days; and with a &s;erious Countenance told me, he expected then an an|&s;wer that &s;hould &s;peak me an Obedient Daughter, and if otherwi&s;e, I might for ever look upon him as my Enemy.</P>
<P>I acquainted <HI>Artaxus</HI> with what had pa&s;t, and he (no longer doubting his own misfortune) Swore <HI>Bonzeda</HI> &s;hou'd bleed to prevent the mi&s;|chief; he &s;till hop'd that <HI>Martius</HI> lov'd me, and believ'd, if once I was Marry'd to another, he &s;hou'd lo&s;e all rea&s;onable pretences to the Charm|ing <HI>Indoretta.</HI> His grief added &s;en&s;ibly to mine, and tho' my fears told me that Young <HI>Mangroa</HI> had forgot me; I endeavour'd neverthele&s;s to per&s;wade <HI>Artaxus</HI> to write to him, and to ac|quaint him with the &s;tate of affairs. He was at
<PB N="93" REF="92"> fir&s;t unwilling, becau&s;e it argu'd weakne&s;s to de|&s;ire an Alliance of this Nature, with a Man that had by his long &s;ilence &s;hown his aver&s;ion, (or at lea&s;t indifferency) but then remembring, that I advis'd him mo&s;tly (as he thought) for his own quiet and &s;atisfaction, and that the e&s;teem I had for <HI>Martius,</HI> was founded upon that relation he had to <HI>Indoretta,</HI> but above all, rememb'ring the Charms of that Fair one, he was at la&s;t o'recome, and &s;ent him a Letter to this pur|po&s;e.</P>
<LETTER LANG="eng">
<P><HI>HAd</HI> Sirena <HI>been but half &s;o fair as the Lovely</HI> Indoretta, <HI>or had</HI> Martius <HI>Lov'd like</HI> Artaxus, Coloa <HI>had e're now been without the be&s;t of men, and</HI> Mangroa's <HI>Hou&s;e had not been po&s;&s;e&s;s'd by</HI> Bonzeda <HI>alone, who in this fatal ab&s;ence, has prevail'd upon my Father's ea&s;ie Na|ture, to be&s;tow his Daughter upon him. Ha&s;te then to the Country, to redeem a Mi&s;tre&s;s almo&s;t lo&s;t, and to &s;ave a Friend, who lives only for the Divine</HI> Indoretta, <HI>and for you.</HI></P>
<CLOSER><SIGNED>Artaxus.</SIGNED></CLOSER>
</LETTER>
<P>The Letter was &s;ent to a Friend of my Bro|ther's at <HI>Coloa,</HI> and we numbred the Minutes of each day, in expectation of an An&s;wer, and to our grief, &s;aw the end of tho&s;e pre&s;crib'd me; but no return from this ab&s;ent Youth. My Bro|ther was all rage, mutter'd Revenge again&s;t <HI>Martius,</HI> and Swore the affront &s;hou'd never be forgot.</P>
<P>In the Evening, the Duke (accompany'd by <HI>Bonzeda)</HI> came to my Chamber, and ask'd how
<PB N="94" REF="93"> I had entertain'd that propo&s;ition he had made me, and if I was di&s;pos'd to &s;how my Obedience, by my ready con&s;ent to the Count's Happine&s;s? I blu&s;h'd and trembl'd at the unwelcome &s;ound; yet even then <HI>I</HI> had all that aver&s;ion for <HI>Martius,</HI> which love neglected could in&s;pire; I imputed all my pre&s;ent torments to his infidelity and un|kindne&s;s, and was even ready to pronounce his Name, &s;o much he po&s;&s;e&s;s'd my Soul, when <HI>Xen|&s;a</HI> (who from Silence argu'd the in&s;tability of my mind, and concluding it convenient to ap|ply mild Arguments to my &s;tagg'ring re&s;olutions) in kind words, &s;et before me the Advantages that attended this Match, the Count's Love, and every thing that might prevail with a Woman of my Years. Then &s;eeing me &s;till &s;ilent, come (&s;aid he, and taking <HI>Bonzeda</HI> by the hand,) we mu&s;t not expect too much from a Young maid; Silence is a Woman's be&s;t Rheto|rick, and their eyes ought to expre&s;s the Senti|ments of their Hearts, e&s;pecially in affairs of Love. My Daughter (no doubt) knows what value to &s;et upon your merit, and has &s;ufficiently weigh'd my Commands, a few days &s;hall com|pleat your Happine&s;s, and in the mean time leave the Burden of the management to my Strength. This &s;aid, he left me, and <HI>I</HI> cou'd ob|&s;erve the Count well pleas'd with my &s;eeming mode&s;ty.</P>
<P><HI>Artaxus</HI> enter'd as &s;oon as they were gone, and I (drown'd in Tears) told him my liberty wou'd &s;hortly be no more; and I was doom'd a Victim to my Father's Ambition, or mi&s;taken judgment. He &s;igh'd, and faintly &s;aid, Oh unkind <HI>Marti|us!</HI> Oh my Divine <HI>Indoretta!</HI> Wou'd to Hea|ven
<PB N="95" REF="93"> I cou'd love thee le&s;s&mdash;yet thou de|&s;erv'&s;t greater &s;ervices than I am able to pay thee, tho' for thy &s;ake I parted with my life. We complain'd of Fortune, of our Stars, and &s;poke every thing, grief, love, and anger could in&s;pire. I wi&s;h'd for the happine&s;s of &s;eeing <HI>Martius</HI> once more langui&s;h at my feet, that I might have the power of Revenging that injury he had done me. And <HI>Artaxus</HI> &s;wore he'd ride Po&s;t to <HI>Coloa,</HI> that with his Sword he might teach him to remember him.</P>
<P>While thus in pain we con&s;um'd the tedious hours, my Mother enter'd. She di&s;cover'd in our Faces too many &s;igns of our inward thoughts, and (after &s;he had kindly chid us for concealing our Cares from her) offer'd all &s;he thought might give us &s;ome relief. <HI>Artaxus</HI> threw him&s;elf at her feet, and conjur'd her to have pity on his weakne&s;s, and to remember, that Love he had for the Fair <HI>Indoretta</HI> before he left <HI>Coloa;</HI> that it was what he could not o'recome, to lo&s;e her was to be eternally mi&s;erable, and that to pre|vent all that mi&s;chief which threatned de&s;tructi|on to his Love, nothing was more expedient, than to put a &s;top to my Marriage with Count <HI>Bonzeda.</HI> The tender Mother was &s;en&s;ibly griev'd for the pains of her Children; &s;he knew the Duke's humor, and how little power &s;he had o|ver him, but willing to contribute all &s;he cou'd to our happine&s;s, &s;he bid us rely upon her Con|duct, and in the mean time not to be di&s;tracted, with a confus'd pro&s;pect of what was to come, for that was to weave a long and tedious Web of Cares, which one thought, or kind word, was a|ble to unravel, and we wou'd afterwards laugh
<PB N="96" REF="94"> at tho&s;e Bug-bears our fears had made. Her words obtain'd that end for which they were de&s;ign'd; and we enjoy'd that peace of Mind, which much hope in mid&s;t of danger can be|&s;tow.</P>
<P>Night had her Curtains half a&s;under drawn, and that faint light appear'd, which &s;peaks the coming of the welcome day. The longing Birds were flutt'ring from their Ne&s;ts, and labourers weary with their former toyls, began to think of others now at hand. When <HI>Artaxus</HI> (whom Love had robb'd of &s;leep) &s;ent to me, and ac|quainted me, that he de&s;ign'd for <HI>Zenitha,</HI> (a &s;mall Village three Miles from our Hou&s;e) and therefore de&s;ir'd me not to expect his Company till Night. He often went to this plea&s;ant little Town, and the Duke (though bred a Courtier) had that regard to Religion, which men wi&s;e and hone&s;t (without Biggotry) ought to have, and told him, he &s;hou'd be glad to &s;ee him often pur&s;ue the &s;ame road, becau&s;e in the morning I might hear a Ma&s;s or two, and in the Afternoon &s;pend &s;ome hours in Conver&s;ation with the Ab|be&s;s, who was his particular Acquaintance, and a Woman that de&s;erv'd that imployment (or Po&s;t) in the Church, to which his friend&s;hip had advanc'd her. Madam, that I may give you the &s;tory in that Order in which 'twas acted, permit me to tell you what happen'd to <HI>Artaxus</HI> before he return'd.</P>
<P>When he had drove about half way, he en|ter'd into a plea&s;ant Wood upon a River's &s;ide; it was yet early day, and the Dew lay &s;hining on the mo&s;&s;y Banks. No noi&s;e was to be heard, but that of a gentle Wind which ruffled 'mong&s;t the
<PB N="97" REF="94"> Leaves, and play'd with every tender yielding Bough; the place (you'd thought) for happy Lovers made, and &s;o much &s;weetne&s;s Charm'd each &s;en&s;e, 'twas of force enough to in&s;pire tho&s;e with a certain de&s;ire, who had ne're been &s;en&s;i|ble of a flame, and made them wi&s;h for &s;ome|thing which they wou'd po&s;&s;e&s;s; even when they &s;carce knew what it was they wanted.</P>
<P>My Brother having &s;eated him&s;elf, (after he had forbidden his Servants to enter the Wood) began the faint remembrance of his pa&s;t Happi|ne&s;s, and then form'd a lively Idea of his pre|&s;ent mi&s;eries. He complain'd of Young <HI>Man|groa,</HI> and &s;igh'd for the Charming <HI>Indoretta.</HI> That Silence which reign'd in the place, contri|buted to his melancholy, and every Shade which was within his view &s;erv'd for &s;o many Charms to inflame and heighten Love. While thus he &s;at and mourn'd his cruel de&s;tiny, begging of Hea|ven a quick relief, and making Vows unto the Gods, as if on Love all happine&s;s depended. He heard a faint groan which &s;eem'd but a few pa|ces from him. This accident &s;urpriz'd him, but more when he perceiv'd at the Root of a rugged old Oak (which extended its Arms to welcome the noble gue&s;t) a Man nobly dre&s;t and a&s;leep. His Curio&s;ity tempted him to &s;tay, and having po&s;ted him&s;elf behind an oppo&s;ite Tree, he had not waited long before the &s;tranger awak'd, who (after a few deep &s;ighs) with a Voice that Charm'd the very Heavens, and &s;et the Gods a li&s;t'ning, &s;ung to him&s;elf the following Lines.</P>
<LG N="1">
<PB N="98" REF="95">
<HEAD>1.</HEAD>
<L>Ah! too fond Youth! Why do&s;t thou mourn</L>
<L>For one that loves not thee?</L>
<L>Her Heart does for another burn,</L>
<L>Ah! happy! happy! He!</L>
<L>Oh! lovely Maid! could&s;t thou but know,</L>
<L>How much for thee I undergo!</L>
</LG>
<LG N="2">
<HEAD>2.</HEAD>
<L><HI>Could'&s;t thou but &s;ee how</HI> Martius <HI>lies,</HI></L>
<L><HI>Beneath this lone&s;ome Tree,</HI></L>
<L><HI>No other Covert but the Skies,</HI></L>
<L><HI>And all for love of thee.</HI></L>
<L>Sirena <HI>&s;ure &s;hou'd kinder prove,</HI></L>
<L><HI>And give me pity, if not love.</HI></L>
</LG>
<P>'Tis impo&s;&s;ible, Madam, to expre&s;s my Brother's thoughts upon this occa&s;ion; but having con&s;i|dered them &s;ince, from that account he gave me, I find joy was the o'reruling Pa&s;&s;ion; for a &s;ud|den faintne&s;s &s;eiz'd him, and he could have re|main'd immoveable upon the place, if he had not perceiv'd his long-wi&s;h'd-for Friend (who yet had not &s;een him) about to depart. This a|wak'd him from his exta&s;ie; and having caught my Lover in his Arms, Ah! <HI>Martius</HI> (cry'd he) are not my Eyes deceived? And do I really Embrace the Brother of my Lovely <HI>Indoretta?</HI> The hand&s;ome Youth (&s;urpriz'd with the unex|pected happine&s;s) was at fir&s;t unable to reply. he hugg'd his Friend, gaz'd upon him, embrac'd again, and &s;aid, Oh! <HI>Artaxus,</HI> Can you par|don
<PB N="99" REF="95"> my long ab&s;ence, and &s;eeming infidelity? is <HI>Indoretta</HI>'s Brother welcome to <HI>Sirena</HI>'s? Is the Lovely Maid well? And can Count <HI>Bonze|da</HI> be preferr'd to the Con&s;tant <HI>Martius?</HI> Young <HI>Xenxa</HI> (after he had again embrac'd him) in few words related what I have already Written, and begg'd he'd repay the Complement with one of the &s;ame nature; the Youth told him, that his pre&s;ent happine&s;s &s;o Charm'd his Soul, he cou'd not admit the remembrance of pa&s;t ills, without a palpable abu&s;e of that pre&s;ent favour his relenting Fortune had be&s;tow'd upon him. But that the Brother of <HI>Sirena</HI> &s;hou'd not com|mand any thing which he would not obey; he thereupon began as followeth. Where by the way, Madam, you may ob&s;erve in his ha&s;te, that impatiency which po&s;&s;e&s;s'd him, till he reach'd the end.</P>
<DIV2 TYPE="part">
<P>WHen you left <HI>Coloa,</HI> all that was plea&s;ant in it fled; <HI>Sirena</HI> was no more to be &s;een, and con&s;equently nothing to which I had not an aver&s;ion. The Duke ob&s;erv'd my melan|choly, and often ask'd the Cau&s;e; but &s;eeing no hopes of di&s;covering on't that way, he complain'd to a Young Lady who was always with my Si&s;ter. She was a Woman of a piercing Wit, violent in her Inclinations, given to Jealou&s;ie, and would &s;tick at nothing, (how dangerous &s;oever) if it conduc'd to her plea&s;ure, or in the lea&s;t &s;erv'd her ambition. But to attone for the&s;e faults, &s;he was Beautiful to a wonder, could di&s;&s;emble to a miracle, and had all tho&s;e Arts the mo&s;t &s;ubtle of her Sex e're knew; add to the&s;e &s;eeming Ad|vantages, Quality, and a va&s;t Fortune; for &s;he
<PB N="100" REF="96"> was the Earl of <HI>Sirama</HI>'s only Daughter, who dying in her infancy, had left her an E&s;tate &s;ufficient to &s;upport her Rank in the World, e're &s;he was oblig'd to't.</P>
<P><HI>Ericis</HI> (for that was the Lady's Name) was glad of this opportunity, and fail'd not to let my Father know (for <HI>Indoretta</HI>'s confidence in her &s;eeming Friend&s;hip, had made her Mi&s;tre&s;s of the &s;ecret) what otherwi&s;e <HI>I</HI> had eternally kept from him. This &s;en&s;ibly di&s;pleas'd him, and having found me in the Garden, (after he had by his looks taught me what to fear) <HI>Martius</HI> (&s;aid he) mu&s;t my Enemy &s;till Triumph over me? Have I no other to betray me but my own Son? And mu&s;t the Author of <HI>Turru&s;co</HI>'s death, ruin the Honour of his Brother? No, Young Man! Yours nor your Si&s;ter's madne&s;s has not yet infected the Father, and the Event of a few days &s;hall let you know, how far your Love is incon&s;i&s;tent with your Rea&s;on and Intere&s;t. This &s;aid, he left me in that amazement the unlook'd-for di&s;covery ju&s;tly gave. I &s;u&s;pected the weakne&s;s of <HI>Indo|retta</HI>'s tender Nature, and judg'd he had by threatnings drawn this confe&s;&s;ion from her. But as <HI>I</HI> was about to conclude her guilty, &s;he enter'd the Arbour where the Duke had left me. Tears trickled from her Eyes, her Beauties langui&s;h'd, and the lovely kind <HI>Cali&s;to</HI> felt not half her pains, nor blu&s;h'd &s;o much, tho' when in Streams a|mong&s;t the happier Nymphs, &s;he bath'd and wanton'd 'till her fault was known. I &s;oon gue&s;t the cau&s;e, and told her how far I had &s;har'd in all her Misfortunes, and was not wanting in my part of this. Ah! Brother (cry'd &s;he) can you forgive me? 'Twas <HI>I</HI> betray'd the &s;ecret, in tru&s;t|ing
<PB N="101" REF="96"> to the perfidious <HI>Ericis,</HI> &s;he alone knew it, and 'tis &s;he only that has ruin'd us. My grief for the accident, had not bani&s;h'd my pity from an affectionate Si&s;ter; to ea&s;e her therefore, <HI>I</HI> conceal'd a great part of my pain, and per&s;wad|ed her to have the &s;ame e&s;teem in appearance for the Young Counte&s;s of <HI>Sirama,</HI> &s;he had former|ly &s;hown in earne&s;t.</P>
<P>Some days after, the Duke told me he had con&s;ider'd my weakne&s;s, and was now re|&s;olv'd to provide for me a Wife, that (tho' Young) was acquainted with the World, and would &s;tu|dy to pre&s;erve the Honour of his Family, which <HI>I</HI> had &s;o evidently endanger'd, by a pa&s;&s;ion of which none but Madmen would be guilty. This di&s;cour&s;e almo&s;t o'return'd my Obedience; and <HI>I</HI> was ready to return him an an&s;wer, that had &s;poke the le&s;&s;ening of my Duty, when he (who already perceiv'd the effect it had wrought) de|ny'd me the liberty, and on a &s;udden cry'd; Son remember who lays this Command upon you, that in the Afternoon you wait upon the Coun|te&s;s of <HI>Sirama,</HI> look upon her as the Woman <HI>I</HI> have de&s;ign'd for my Daughter, her Fortune ex|ceeds your Merit, and con&s;ider <HI>I</HI> have mine at my di&s;po&s;al. This mo&s;t &s;en&s;ibly afflicted me; &s;he was the Woman who had begun my mi&s;ery, and whom <HI>I</HI> now &s;aw de&s;tin'd to prolong the Scene. The Dutche&s;s remain'd pa&s;&s;ive in the affair, and griev'd nothing more than the affliction of her Daughter, who yet believ'd her <HI>Artaxus</HI> innocent, and lov'd as much as Virtue could allow.</P>
<P>In the Evening <HI>I</HI> waited upon my new Mi|&s;tre&s;s, who (tho' &s;he was perfectly skill'd in the
<PB N="102" REF="97"> Art of di&s;&s;imulation) receiv'd me with that &s;a|tisfaction, which di&s;cover'd it &s;elf in mo&s;t of her Actions. After &s;ome di&s;cour&s;e in which Love had the lea&s;t &s;hare, &s;he (with a &s;eeming and feign'd tenderne&s;s) told me, &s;he had &s;een the Duke very much out of humour for &s;ome days pa&s;t, that &s;he was &s;orry for his mi&s;take, becau&s;e &s;he was per&s;waded <HI>I</HI> had never entertain'd any thoughts for <HI>Xen&s;a</HI>'s Daughter; who be&s;ides her Father's hatred to our Family, had departed from <HI>Coloa</HI> too Young to be &s;en&s;ible of any &s;uch flame; that &s;he hear'd &s;ome days ago that &s;he was Mar|ry to Count <HI>Bonzeda,</HI> and the Young Duke was pa&s;&s;ionately in Love with his Si&s;ter the fair <HI>Man|derina.</HI> Tho' <HI>I</HI> &s;u&s;pected the Author of Malice, yet the &s;tory carry'd &s;o much of a &s;eeming truth and probability in it, <HI>I</HI> was unable for &s;ome time to an&s;wer. But at la&s;t recollecting my &s;elf, Ma|dam, (&s;aid <HI>I)</HI> you hold a Corre&s;pondence it &s;eems with <HI>Mangroa</HI>'s Daughter; for <HI>Bonzeda</HI> (tho' my Relation) has not yet acquainted me with as much. However I'm glad to hear of his prudent Choice, and that <HI>Artaxus</HI> weighs his own intere&s;t and his Father's Commands; for <HI>I</HI> mu&s;t confe&s;s <HI>I</HI> harbour not one thought for that Family, which is not exactly corre&s;pondent to the height of Friend&s;hip. The di&s;&s;embling Fair &s;eem'd &s;atisfied with the Truth of what I &s;aid, and we parted for that time, <HI>I</HI> full of grief, and &s;he of hopes.</P>
<P>At night <HI>I</HI> felt all tho&s;e pains unhappy Lo|vers know, <HI>I</HI> griev'd my Fathers ill nature, but more the lo&s;s of <HI>Sirena; I</HI> look'd on <HI>Artaxus</HI> as a Man unju&s;t and no more my Friend, and tho' <HI>I</HI> did not firmly believe all that <HI>Ericis</HI> had told
<PB N="103" REF="97"> me, yet it gave &s;ufficient ground for doubts and fears to grow upon; and to doubt the lo&s;s of what we Love, brings more of Torment, than a real privation of all we po&s;&s;e&s;s be&s;ides. To this <HI>I</HI> added, that <HI>Bonzeda</HI> had conceal'd his hap|pine&s;s from me by <HI>Mangroa</HI>'s order. In the Morning <HI>I</HI> &s;aw <HI>Indoretta,</HI> but as yet conceal'd from her my new griefs, and re&s;olv'd to compleat my ruine, or begin my better Fortune, by a &s;ure knowledge of what had pa&s;t. <HI>I</HI> Writ to you (my dear Friend) a Letter, the words of which <HI>I</HI> &s;till remember.</P>
<LETTER LANG="eng">
<P><HI>THis unkind &s;ilence favours the report (now current in</HI> Coloa) <HI>of your Addre&s;&s;es to the fair</HI> Manderina, Bonzeda<HI>'s Si&s;ter and your happy Neighbour. I live for the Lovely</HI> Sirena, <HI>and if &s;he is now po&s;&s;e&s;s'd by another, confirm the truth by your an&s;wer, that I may be certain of my doom. I &s;hall no longer complain of</HI> Mangroa <HI>or</HI> Xen&s;a, <HI>and e&s;pecially of the fir&s;t, who&s;e aver&s;ion to your Family &s;eems ju&s;tly grounded, &s;ince</HI> Ar|taxus <HI>is become guilty, and &s;hares in his Father's Nature.</HI> Indoretta <HI>(if you regard the news I know not) &s;till remembers you.</HI></P>
<CLOSER><SIGNED>Martius.</SIGNED></CLOSER>
</LETTER>
<P>Ju&s;t as <HI>I</HI> had Writ it <HI>Furinus</HI> enter'd, <HI>I</HI> need not tell you, my dear <HI>Artaxus,</HI> the e&s;teem <HI>I</HI> had for this Young Man, let it &s;uffice, that he po&s;&s;e&s;s'd that place in my Friend&s;hip, which was next to that <HI>I</HI> always kept for the Brother of <HI>Sirena;</HI> and tho' he was &s;omething related to <HI>Ericis,</HI> and high in her favour, <HI>I</HI> had neverthele&s;s all that confi|dence
<PB N="104" REF="98"> in him which I then Judg'd his merit claim'd as due. He &s;oon perceiv'd that Grief under which I labour'd, and offer'd all tho&s;e Re|medies I could expect from the be&s;t of Friends. 'Tis natural to all men oppre&s;t with grief and &s;orrow, to communicate their pains to others, either becau&s;e the burden &s;eems divided when a|nother feels a part, or el&s;e becau&s;e we are ready (like &s;inking Mariners) to hope for &s;ome re|lief, and gra&s;p at any thing that fir&s;t pre&s;ents it &s;elf, without examining if it can contri|bute any thing to our ea&s;e or &s;afety. Thus I de|luded my &s;elf; and the Young Man (when I had told him all) with a &s;eeming kindne&s;s, of|fer'd to convey my Letter to a tru&s;ty Friend of his at <HI>Zenitha;</HI> who would undoubtedly put it into your hands, with that &s;ecre&s;ie and conduct which the affair requir'd. I was heartily pleas'd with the opportunity, not knowing whom to tru&s;t, and after I had conjur'd him to remem|ber how much my Happine&s;s depended up|on what he had undertaken for me, we parted.</P>
<P>A few hours after, the Duke &s;ent his Page to acquaint me, that the Young Counte&s;s was with my Si&s;ter. I knew the weight of that Me&s;|&s;age, &s;aw it impo&s;&s;ible to &s;hun her Company, without a manife&s;t token of di&s;obedience; and went into the Room with all tho&s;e pains which <HI>Dedalus</HI> e're knew, when through the Air he boldly took his way, and &s;aw the Object of his hopes behind, unwing'd and &s;inking, and all the plea&s;ures of a dear bought Liberty, da&s;h'd by the ab&s;ence of his better part.<HI>&mdash;Indoretta</HI> (who knew how much my Nature was aver&s;e to this di&s;&s;embling Fair) &s;trove to give me all that
<PB N="105" REF="98"> ea&s;e which was within her Power, and forgot not to entertain my unwelcome Mi&s;tre&s;s with a thou&s;and little indifferent Stories, to divert that nece&s;&s;ity which had otherwi&s;e fal'n upon me, of entertaining her with another Subject, to which I had no inclination. <HI>Ericis</HI> fretted much at my Si&s;ter's &s;eeming kindne&s;s, and could have been &s;atisfied with half that care &s;he &s;how'd to plea&s;e her. She often fix'd her Eyes on mine, and wou'd, with a &s;mile (mixt with Jealou&s;ie and An|ger) frequently tell me <HI>I</HI> was a con&s;tant Lover, or a Man altogether in&s;en&s;ible of a tender flame, and that perhaps I mourn'd a lo&s;s which might with ea&s;e be repay'd. I an&s;wer'd coldly to what &s;he &s;aid, and often let her know by my looks, that all &s;he &s;poke was unwelcome. This vex'd her to the Heart, &s;he knew her &s;elf hand&s;om, of a &s;ufficient Fortune, and was Di&s;tracted when &s;he &s;aw her Charms neglected by a Man, for whom &s;he had us'd &s;o many Arts to plea&s;e, and I found by the Duke's frowns next day, how far &s;he had re&s;ented my indifferency.</P>
<P>Thus <HI>I</HI> liv'd for &s;ome time, felt a pre&s;ent pain, and had but a very confus'd pro&s;pect of a kinder Fortune. When <HI>Furinus</HI> (for whom I oft had wi&s;h'd) came to &s;ee me, and gave me that Let|ter, from which I long had hop'd for &s;ome re|lief.</P>
<LETTER LANG="eng">
<P><HI>THat &s;tory which has reach'd your Ears at</HI> Coloa, <HI>is a part of that truth which is act|ing at</HI> Xen&s;a; <HI>and errs in nothing, but that</HI> Sirena <HI>is not yet po&s;&s;e&s;s'd by</HI> Count Bonzeda. <HI>As for that aver&s;ion which</HI> Mangroa <HI>entertains for our Family, 'tis no more than what</HI> Artaxus <HI>ought to</HI>
<PB N="106" REF="99"> <HI>have for yours, if he be &s;en&s;ible of his own Merit, and your Treachery.</HI></P>
<CLOSER><SIGNED>Artaxus.</SIGNED></CLOSER>
</LETTER>
<P>'Tis impo&s;&s;ible, my Friend, to expre&s;s all tho&s;e different Pa&s;&s;ions which po&s;&s;e&s;t me, when I read this counterfeited Mark of your &s;udden Change. I thankt <HI>Furinus</HI> (who was &s;eemingly &s;orrowful for me) and own'd my &s;elf his Debtor for that care he had &s;hown; &s;wore <HI>Sirena</HI> &s;hould po&s;&s;e&s;s my Heart no more, that it had been too long a Slave to that fal&s;e Fair One, who had &s;o &s;oon forgot my Services, and whole Years of Love; and that <HI>Artaxus</HI> &s;hould bleed, and with his Life attone for his fault.</P>
<P>I acquainted <HI>Indoretta</HI> with the Misfortune, and &s;he bore it with that patience which becomes a Virgin Love. However I had not fail'd to acquaint you how &s;en&s;ible I was of the injury you had done me, and had at lea&s;t been &s;atisfi|ed how I became treacherous to a Man I had e&s;teem'd &s;o much, if a &s;udden Feaver had not put a &s;top to my Re&s;olution, and prevented my intended Journey. <HI>Mangroa</HI> (tho' fix'd in the pur&s;uit of any thing he had once begun) was neverthele&s;s affrighted with my Danger, and al|mo&s;t repented the unkindne&s;s done me. But my di&s;temper at la&s;t encrea&s;ing, he (now full of Fears) &s;eated him&s;elf upon my Bed's &s;ide, and (like a tender Mi&s;tre&s;s weeping o're her wound|ed Lover) confe&s;s'd his Cruelty, and begg'd my Pardon, with a thou&s;and A&s;&s;urances, that (if kind Heav'n re&s;tor'd me to my health) <HI>Sirena</HI> &s;hou'd be mine. He'd humble him&s;elf even be|yond
<PB N="107" REF="99"> his Nature, and beg for Friend&s;hip from the Man he hated; that former quarrels now &s;hou'd be no more, and all his intere&s;t &s;hou'd yield to my future happine&s;s, than which he knew not a greater. The Brother's unkind Letter had rais'd my Anger, and mov'd my &s;leeping Griefs, but had not weakned or de&s;troy|ed my Love, and the fair Si&s;ter &s;till po&s;&s;e&s;t my heart; for when mo&s;t I &s;trove to raze her from my Soul, the all-conquering Maid with double force return'd; wonder not then if this re&s;tor'd my health, for hope from Love can never be divided, and <HI>Indoretta</HI>'s Tears kept back my Soul, when on the Wing and eager for its Flight.</P>
<P>When I was recover'd, a new Misfortune befel me; for <HI>Mangroa</HI> &s;uddenly lo&s;t the be&s;t of Wives, and I the kinde&s;t Mother Nature e're had made; my Si&s;ter had all that &s;orrow e're po&s;&s;e&s;t a tender loving Daughter, who griev'd the death of a kind Parent, and the Counte&s;s of <HI>Sirama</HI> was the only Per&s;on that rejoyc'd; for in her &s;he lo&s;t an Enemy, and one who had favour'd my Pa&s;&s;ion for the lovely Daughter of cruel <HI>Xen&s;a,</HI> her Rival in all her Virtues, and one who notwith&s;tanding of her ab&s;ence and &s;eeming Cruelty, was dearer to me than health to tho&s;e who &s;uffer deadly Pains, a calm to Sea|men wearied with the Winds, to Travellers re&s;t, or Men condemn'd Reprieves. Had <HI>Paris</HI> lov'd his <HI>Helena</HI> &s;o well, or had &s;he been but half &s;o &s;weet, &s;o good, as ble&s;t <HI>Sirena</HI> to my view appear'd, a thou&s;and Years of Famine and of War, Ripes, Butcheries, continued Scenes of Blood, with the De&s;truction of his Hou&s;e and
<PB N="108" REF="100"> Country, had prov'd a price too low for &s;o much Beauty. The gods them&s;elves had fought for hap|py <HI>Troy,</HI> and the young Man &s;ucce&s;sful prov'd in Arms, old <HI>Priam</HI>'s Seat immoveable had been, his Hou&s;hold gods and Children had been &s;afe, and <HI>Agamemnon</HI> had return'd with lo&s;s. Tho&s;e hopes the Duke had given me, were as &s;o many Arrows from the God of Love, and Grief (a mighty pa&s;&s;ion in it &s;elf) &s;erv'd now to rai&s;e a greater in my Brea&s;t.</P>
<P><HI>Ericis</HI> came frequently to &s;ee my Si&s;ter, and tho' <HI>Mangroa</HI> &s;eem'd inclinable to favour that Pa&s;&s;ion I had for the Daughter of his Enemy, yet he had not fully laid a&s;ide his fir&s;t Re&s;oluti|on; and judging that a pre&s;ent Beauty, and long ab&s;ence wou'd work my Cure, he made u&s;e of gentle Remedies, and told me it was not ho|nourable &s;o &s;oon to abandon a Lady's &s;ervice, after I had confe&s;s'd her my Mi&s;tre&s;s; that it was convenient I &s;hou'd often wait upon her, le&s;t <HI>Xen&s;a</HI> or his Friends might apprehend the cau&s;e of this &s;udden alteration in his humour, and think his friend&s;hip the effect of Nece&s;&s;ity not Choice. Where the power of being Active or Pa&s;&s;ive is left to our &s;elves, how far &s;o ever the thing be oppo&s;ite to our Inclinations, we per|form it with ea&s;e and &s;ome plea&s;ure; and this proceeds from that aver&s;ion we have to re&s;traint, and our Love of liberty; for we are all born Free, and have a right to all things, and not to continue in this State, is a privation of our own Strength, and argues our weakne&s;s in not being able to &s;urmount, or remove that difficul|ty or impediment, which denies or bars us from Enlargement. Be&s;ides we naturally have &s;ome
<PB N="109" REF="100"> re&s;pect for tho&s;e who contribute to the &s;ucce&s;s of our Love, tho' they did it without de&s;ign, or with an intention wholly to de&s;troy it. Think it not &s;trange then that I could now look upon <HI>Ericis,</HI> with an air much differing from that &s;he had formerly &s;een. The fal&s;e Fair &s;eem'd pleas'd with this change, and concludes the an&s;wer of my Letter had wrought it; and fail'd not to acquaint the Duke how much I obey'd, who every Day by his looks confe&s;s'd his Satis|faction. The&s;e I took for &s;o many natural Signs of his kindne&s;s, and failed not to flat|ter my &s;elf, &s;o far as to believe he wou'd for|get nothing, that might advance that friend|&s;hip he de&s;ign'd with <HI>Xen&s;a;</HI> and as 'tis impo&s;&s;i|ble to Love where there is no hope, it followeth that to hope much is to feed the Flame, and make it rage to more unruly Fires.</P>
<P>Things were thus, when a Happine&s;s I ne're had hop'd befel me; for one Night as I came from a Ball at Court, (where my Friends had detain'd me too long) I &s;aw at a &s;mall di&s;tance (by the help of his Flambeaux's) the rambling <HI>Fernanthus</HI> Duke of <HI>Meroa.</HI> I knew his hu|mour, and (not re&s;olv'd to turn Scowrer that Night) endeavour'd to avoid him, and therefore &s;oftly plac'd my &s;elf, at the fir&s;t door which offer'd; but as I began to re&s;t upon it I found it fled, and gave me acce&s;s to the Hou&s;e unlook'd for. I was at fir&s;t &s;urpris'd, but more when I heard a Woman, in a low Voice, cry, Sir, Sir, are you come? I pre&s;ently recollected my &s;elf, and an&s;wer'd <HI>Yes,</HI> e're &s;he had fully pronounc'd her la&s;t Words. She took me by the Hand, and (without any Lights) led into a Room, where
<PB N="110" REF="101"> another leaping from the Bed caught me in her Arms, and cry'd, <HI>Ah my dear Youth! Why have you &s;taid &s;o long? Know you not how much the&s;e unkind delays &s;horten the Scenes of Love, and Day appears e're you have trod the Stage?</HI> I made no reply, but &s;eem'd impatient of the coming Heav'n, half naked on the downy Bed &s;he lay, her Arms expanded ready to receive me, breath'd &s;hort and &s;igh'd, then ask'd me why I &s;taid, and by a rapture known to burn|ing Youth, anticipated what &s;hou'd be jointly &s;har'd, and give to both an equal part of Heav'n. I &s;oon undre&s;s'd, and ki&s;s'd the long|ing She, ran o're the Field of Love with eager tran&s;ports, melted with &s;udden Plea&s;ures and too much of Bli&s;s, and langui&s;h'd e're my Joys were half begun. The kind one &s;mil'd, and &s;igh'd at what was pa&s;t, and us'd tho&s;e ways which kindle or excite to a new Love the drow&s;ie fainting Soul. She caught my trem|bling Body in her Arms, ki&s;s'd me, and &s;aid, Can you be kind no more, has too much Love de&s;troy'd our mutual Bli&s;s, and has <HI>Furinus</HI> no more Joys in &s;tore? Thus wou'd young <HI>Martius</HI> with <HI>Sirena</HI> done, the &s;udden leap to happine&s;s had drown'd his Soul in Exta&s;ie, and made de|&s;ire weak. But tho&s;e to whom long practice gives the art of taming by degrees unruly Flames, &s;hould know the way to better, longer Loves&mdash;Yet &s;tay, my Dear, (added &s;he in another tone) what effects will that counterfeited an&s;wer pro|duce, does he forget <HI>Sirena</HI> now? And does the Counte&s;s of <HI>Sirama</HI> triumph o're that &s;ucce&s;sful Beauty? Her immode&s;ty had mov'd my wonder, but the&s;e la&s;t words &s;urpris'd beyond belief; and
<PB N="111" REF="101">
'twas no longer in my choice to doubt whom it was I had embrac'd, and to prevent that di&s;co|very which a longer Di&s;cour&s;e had certainly pro|duc'd, I renew'd tho&s;e Joys for which &s;he long'd, and by my Love &s;upply'd the want of Words. While thus we dallied, and height of Plea&s;ure fill'd the Fair Ones Soul, I &s;tole a Ring, and for it left my own. Then leaping from the Bed (with a Voice much differing from that of <HI>Martius)</HI> I bid the Maid farewel, and tho' &s;he knew not whom &s;he then had ble&s;t, I left her neverthele&s;s &s;atisfied, that &s;he had be&s;tow'd her Favours upon a Man, for whom &s;he had not meant them. Her Woman, who waited upon the Stairs, knew nothing of the matter, and with &s;oft &s;teps taught me the way, whi&s;pering in my Ear that I had not &s;taid my u&s;ual hour, yet hop'd I I was in health; as &s;he open'd the Street Door, a Man muffled in his Cloak ru&s;h'd in, caught <HI>Pandora</HI> in his Arms, (for that was the Maid's name) and cry'd, Is thy Mi&s;tre&s;s well? Why was the Door no &s;ooner open'd to an impatient Lover? The Wench, without any &s;urpri&s;e ask'd him what he meant, and a&s;&s;ur'd him he had mi&s;taken the Hou&s;e, adding, her Mi&s;tre&s;s was a Per&s;on of Quality, knew him not, nor would &s;he be di&s;turb'd at an hour &s;o un&s;ea&s;onable. Ha, (reply'd he with a louder Voice) is <HI>Furinus</HI> al|ready forgot, and is it for this, I have betray'd young <HI>Mangroa?</HI> At this I &s;uddenly leapt for|wards, and drawing my Sword, Know Sir, (&s;aid I) <HI>Martius</HI> has a Friend &s;hall puni&s;h this Trea|chery. He (without any reply) retir'd into the Streets, I follow'd, and after a few thur&s;ts had pa&s;t between us, his perfidious Soul at la&s;t
<PB N="112" REF="102"> ow'd its pa&s;&s;age to my Sword, and left his body motionle&s;s behind.</P>
<P>When I came home, the Duke was gone to Bed, and none were witne&s;&s;es of my long &s;tay, but tho&s;e of my own Servants who waited for me. 'Tis impo&s;&s;ible to expre&s;s tho&s;e Joys this Night brought me. I &s;aw <HI>Artaxus</HI> &s;till my Friend, was per&s;waded <HI>Sirena</HI> had not then for|got me, and doubted not but that the an&s;wer of my Letter was forg'd by <HI>Ericis,</HI> with the a&s;|&s;i&s;tance of that young Man whom I had now puni&s;h'd for his Perfidy.</P>
<P>In the morning the Fair One came to &s;ee my Si&s;ter, and I was &s;urpris'd to find in her Coun|tenance, not one &s;ign of grief or inward Di&s;tur|bances. The Duke &s;oon after enter'd the Room, and I was oblig'd to a greater Compli|ance than any I had yet &s;hown; &s;he was hearti|ly pleas'd with my looks, and if &s;he had any real Torment for the lo&s;s of her Lover, &s;he let me know by her Behaviour, &s;he enjoy'd a plea|&s;ure that o're-rul'd her Griefs, and hopes of po&s;&s;e&s;&s;ing a new Lover of greater Quality, and (as &s;he thought) Ma&s;ter of more Charms, was able to attone for the death of one, whom fre|quent Loves had rendred &s;tale and homely to the view. But that which mo&s;t &s;he fear'd was, that he who had &s;upply'd his place was not ig|norant of her Quality, and might di&s;clo&s;e the &s;ecret, for the lo&s;s of her Ring could not be ea|&s;ily dige&s;ted. But this trouble al&s;o fled, and the pre&s;ent appearance of better Fortune, (like the Sun-&s;hine of a new Day) di&s;pell'd from her thoughts, the remembrance of that Storm and Horrour which had rag'd the preceeding Night.
<PB N="113" REF="102"> In the mean time, credit this &s;udden Change in my Fortune which followeth.</P>
<P>My Father (now a Widower) began to to entertain &s;ome thoughts, to which he had been long a &s;tranger, and eas'd me of my feign'd Court&s;hip, by the reality of his own; he forgets to bid me wait upon <HI>Ericis,</HI> attones for my in|differency by a pa&s;&s;ion truly violent, and pra|ctis'd all tho&s;e little Arts, which are in&s;eparable Companions of growing Love. I ob&s;erv'd this Change, but conceal'd my knowledge from him as much as po&s;&s;ible, and the kind <HI>Indoretta</HI> who was pleas'd with the fidelity of <HI>Artaxus,</HI> and his continu'd Friend&s;hip to me, upon which &s;he knew the &s;ucce&s;s of my Love depended, thankt Heav'n, and her kind Stars, for this new addi|tion to my Happine&s;s. The Counte&s;s, in whom ambition was always prevalent, wanted only to be a Dutche&s;s; and tho' &s;he &s;aw no hopes of &s;eeing her Son a Duke, (if Heav'n &s;hould &s;end her one) yet &s;he was pleas'd with her Fortune, when &s;he con&s;ider'd, &s;he might cer|tainly po&s;&s;e&s;s the Father, and had only hop'd (and it may be upon &s;mall grounds) the po&s;&s;e&s;&s;i|on of the Son. Thus we liv'd all happy, hop|ing each Day might bring us &s;ome advancement in Fortune's Favour; I never prais'd the lovely <HI>Sirena,</HI> but when I found <HI>Mangroa</HI> pleas'd with the &s;ubject; nor did he ever mention the Coun|te&s;s of <HI>Sirama.</HI> My Si&s;ter was wholly devoted to my Intere&s;t, and always found her happine&s;s in mine.</P>
<P>One Evening the Duke &s;ent for me to his Chamber, and after he had made me &s;it down by him, <HI>Martius,</HI> (&s;aid he with a kinder air
<PB N="114" REF="103"> than u&s;ual) I have long ob&s;erv'd that indiffe|rency with which you treat the Counte&s;s, and have con&s;ider'd that Love which has always po&s;|&s;e&s;t you for <HI>Xen&s;a</HI>'s fair Daughter; and tho' I confe&s;s &s;he de&s;erves all that pa&s;&s;ion you have for her, I &s;ee it with &s;orrow, and could wi&s;h your judgment might pre&s;ent to your View tho&s;e difficulties which are to be o'recome, e're this Match can be perfected, the hatred that Man bears to my Hou&s;e, and how far my Ho|nour is concern'd in the re&s;entment of Count <HI>Torru&s;co</HI>'s death. Here he paus'd &s;ome time, but &s;eeing I did not reply any thing, he proceed|ed and told me, That, to ea&s;e me of one Pain, that I might the better endure another, he was re&s;olv'd to Marry <HI>Ericis</HI> him&s;elf, for the next morning &s;hould fini&s;h the Work, if <HI>Coloa</HI> was not de&s;titute of Prie&s;ts; that he had made it a &s;ecret till now, becau&s;e good things unlook'd for impart mo&s;t of plea&s;ure, and con&s;equently this news would bring me more of happine&s;s. This &s;aid, he expected my An&s;wer and Thanks, in&s;tead of which I threw my &s;elf at his Feet, and conjur'd him to remember that promi&s;e he had once made me; that <HI>Xen&s;a</HI> bad kill'd <HI>Tur|ru&s;co</HI> Honourably, and that his hatred to our Family proceeded only from that which he &s;aw <HI>Mangroa</HI> had to his. As for the Counte&s;s of <HI>Si|rama</HI> he &s;hould add infinitely to my Misfortunes, if he marry'd her, for &s;he was a Woman virtu|ous only to tho&s;e who had not carefully ex|amin'd her Conduct; and thereupon told him the whole &s;tory of that night's Ramble, as I have already related it. The Duke was infinitely &s;urpris'd, and for &s;ome time remain'd &s;ilent,
<PB N="115" REF="103"> then on a &s;udden throwing his Arms about my Neck, he &s;wore he de&s;erv'd not a Son &s;o dutiful; that he had hitherto us'd me unkindly; but that his future Actions &s;hould attone for tho&s;e pa&s;t, and if I wou'd promi&s;e to abandon the bewitch|ing <HI>Sirena,</HI> to whom <HI>Bonzeda</HI> was to be Mar|ry'd, I might begin my Journey for the Coun|try when <HI>I</HI> pleas'd <HI>I</HI> return'd him that an&s;wer my Duty and his Kindne&s;s requir'd; and withal a&s;&s;ur'd him the Count's happine&s;s &s;hould not be di&s;turb'd, that <HI>I</HI> would endeavour to Love <HI>Man|derina</HI> as much as <HI>I</HI> had done <HI>Xen&s;a</HI>'s Daughter, and &s;hould make it my Study to pre&s;erve by merit that place in his good opinion, to which his goodne&s;s without that had advanc'd me. He was &s;atisfied with what I &s;aid, and for that time left me without any diminution of my hopes. In the Morning he writ the following Lines to his Bride.</P>
<LETTER LANG="eng">
<OPENER><SALUTE>Madam,</SALUTE></OPENER>
<P>I <HI>mu&s;t confe&s;s I'm &s;orry to lo&s;e the Counte&s;s of</HI> Sirama, <HI>but not the Mi&s;tre&s;s of</HI> Furinus. <HI>To unriddle the meaning of this. Remember on|ly, that another Man made happy by chance, that night you lo&s;t your Lover, has &s;ufficiently inform'd me of your double dealing; and that I am no longer in a condition to be impos'd upon.</HI></P>
<CLOSER><SIGNED>Mangroa.</SIGNED></CLOSER>
</LETTER>
<P>The detected Fair One was o'rewhelm'd with &s;orrow at the fir&s;t reading of the Duke's Letter, and after &s;he had for &s;ome time given way to Tears,
<PB N="116" REF="104"> (&s;ometimes in Women the natural &s;igns of grief or pain) Anger and Revenge (the darling pa&s;&s;i|ons of that tempting Sex) took place, and &s;he imagin'd with her &s;elf a thou&s;and means and ways to bring di&s;traction to our Family. But willing fir&s;t to u&s;e the force of her Charms, &s;he came to our Hou&s;e dre&s;s'd in &s;miles, and mode&s;t looks. My Father waited upon her, and &s;how'd more of &s;orrow for his lo&s;s, than Pride or Re|&s;entment for the misfortune of this cunning Fair. She talk'd a while of things indifferent; and at la&s;t fell upon the Subject of that Letter he had &s;ent to her. At which time the Duke gave the &s;ign, and I (as he had commanded) enter'd. She &s;oon perceiv'd her Ring, (for I had put it on for that end) and with tears in her Eyes with|drew, confirming &s;ufficiently the truth of all <HI>I</HI> had &s;aid. In &s;hort, my dear Friend, I began my Journey that Evening for <HI>Zenitha,</HI> tho' not be|fore <HI>I</HI> had receiv'd your kind Letter, and had a&s;&s;ur'd <HI>Indoretta</HI> of your Con&s;tancy. The Duke gave me &s;ome Letters to my Rival <HI>Bonzeda,</HI> whom <HI>I</HI> am re&s;olv'd not to acquaint with my arrival, 'till <HI>I</HI> have &s;een the Mi&s;tre&s;s of my Vows, the Charming <HI>Sirena,</HI> a happine&s;s <HI>I</HI> mu&s;t ex|pect from your Friend&s;hip, not Fortune or my Merit.</P>
<P>Here <HI>Martius</HI> &s;topt, and <HI>Artaxus</HI> (who lov'd no le&s;s than he) took him again in his Arms, Swore he'd &s;erve him with his Life and Fortune, and that very Night ble&s;s him with <HI>Sirena</HI>'s Company. Thus having &s;pent part of the day, they at la&s;t cho&s;e different Roads; <HI>Martius</HI> back <GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 word"> <HI>Zenitha,</HI> and <HI>Artaxus</HI> home.</P>
<PB N="117" REF="104">
<P> In the mean time I knew nothing of my Bro|ther's happine&s;s, and when he came home (tho' he &s;trove to hide it, becau&s;e the Duke was pre&s;ent) I cou'd read in his Eyes &s;ome &s;igns of tho&s;e hopes and motions of Joy which had wing'd his Soul. <HI>Xen&s;a</HI> was no &s;ooner gone, than he embrac'd me. Ah! My Dear Si&s;ter (cry'd he) <HI>I</HI> am &s;till hap|py, <HI>Martius</HI> proves a ju&s;t Friend, and <HI>Indoretta</HI> waits for the Fortunate <HI>Artaxus.</HI> The&s;e words plea&s;antly &s;urpris'd me; <HI>I</HI> lov'd too much to be di&s;intere&s;ted in the Story, and begg'd with im|patiency he would let me know where he had this account of his and my good Fortune. Then it was, Madam, he related the Story of my Lover's ab&s;ence, the &s;ame as <HI>I</HI> have already Writ it; adding he had given him the Key of the Gar|den-Door, and we might meet with all the pri|vacy imaginable. Love, not he, per&s;waded, and <HI>I</HI> thought time mov'd backwards till the hour arriv'd.</P>
<P>It was when every Creature &s;eem'd a-&s;leep, the heavy Waters murmur'd as they went, and mov'd as if they &s;hortly meant to re&s;t; the ad|joyning Shoar no raging Billows knew, and every Fi&s;h dreamt in his Ou&s;ie Bed. The Earth &s;eem'd all one Cave, the Heav'ns one &s;hade, and dying Stars did the new light invite. All happy Lo|vers lay in &s;lumbers chain'd, and <HI>Cynthia</HI> to her <HI>Damon</HI> &s;eems forgot. The waking Joys of migh|ty Love were fled, and <HI>Morpheus</HI> reign'd when that Young God gave way. Sometimes a Bird half waking took the Wing, and with &s;low mo|tion reach'd &s;ome neighb'ring bough, then faintly murmuring hu&s;h'd it &s;elf to re&s;t, and &s;leeping bill'd as if its Mate were nigh. 'Twas then, <HI>I</HI>
<PB N="118" REF="105"> &s;ay, Madam, <HI>Artaxus</HI> and <HI>I</HI> &s;tole gently forth, to meet the wi&s;h'd for welcome gen'rous pa&s;&s;ionate <HI>Martius.</HI> As we enter'd the Gar|den, the Lovely Youth ru&s;h'd in; Fancy (that erring guide where Judgment's gone) paints him with all his Charms, and perfect thoughts &s;up|pli'd the want of day. I &s;aw him kneeling, beg|ging at my Feet, gra&s;ping my hands, and &s;igh|ing as he &s;poke, his Eyes (at lea&s;t I thought &s;o) darted Love, and all his trembling touches reach'd my Heart. Faultring he cry'd, <HI>Sirena!</HI> Lovely Fair! Now all the pains of ab&s;ence are repay'd, and pre&s;ent Ble&s;&s;ings bani&s;h rooted cares. <HI>Artaxus,</HI> thou be&s;t of Friends, to thee I owe this mighty happine&s;s, and if the Charming Mi&s;tre&s;s of my Vows had any favourable thoughts for the con&s;tant <HI>Martius,</HI> of which her Brother's Love is not the Cau&s;e, even that Joy which tho&s;e thoughts wou'd impart to me, I'd own the effect of his Friend&s;hip, or her Mercy, without re&s;pect to Merit on my part.</P>
<P>My Heart was &s;eiz'd with tenderne&s;s and joy, I long had lov'd him, and had mourn'd his ab|&s;ence, and all his words (like Arrows &s;hot from Love) dart to my Soul, and kindle dying flames. Night made him bold, and Pa&s;&s;ion &s;purr'd him on, and in this rapture ri&s;ing from the ground, he cla&s;p'd me in his Arms, &s;igh'd deep, and ki&s;s'd me with an eager action, and almo&s;t bani&s;h'd Virtue from my Brea&s;t. After we had &s;eated our &s;elves in an Arbour, we di&s;cours'd of Love, of the pains that Pa&s;&s;ion brings, and day arriv'd e're we had thought it nigh.</P>
<P>In the morning he waited upon the Count, and was by his Si&s;ter (the Fair <HI>Manderina)</HI> re|ceiv'd
<PB N="119" REF="105"> with that Mode&s;ty, which Young Wo|men generally profe&s;s, e&s;pecially before tho&s;e whom they &s;ee de&s;ign'd their Husbands. <HI>Xen&s;a</HI> was &s;oon acquainted with the arrival (as he judg'd him) of his Young Enemy; and waited impatiently for <HI>Bonzeda</HI>'s vi&s;it, who no &s;ooner came, than he inform'd him of his fears, and to prevent future danger, re&s;olv'd to &s;ee me &s;peedi|ly married. The hated Lover was o'rejoy'd at the propo&s;al, and the third day following was prefix'd for that, on which this Gordian Knot was to be ty'd. My Mother acquainted me with the unwelcome news, and I fail'd not to beg that a&s;&s;i&s;tance &s;he had often promi&s;ed; and with Tears in my Eyes let her know how much I hated <HI>Bonzeda,</HI> and what thoughts I had for the Young <HI>Mangroa.</HI> She &s;ighing told me, That things were now come to the la&s;t extremity, that <HI>I</HI> had been married &s;ome weeks ago, if her Friend&s;hip had been wanting, or diligence a&s;leep. That the Young Duke's Arrival gave the Count and my Father &s;o many fears, that Arguments were become u&s;ele&s;s, and my Marriage alone was able to &s;ecure them. But that one Remedy, or at lea&s;t a Reprieve, offer'd it &s;elf, which was to be pur|chas'd thus. I &s;hould immediately feign my &s;elf indi&s;pos'd, confine my &s;elf to my Chamber for &s;ome days, and if the Duke &s;till continued re&s;o|lute, at la&s;t to my Bed. But withal, that <HI>I</HI> &s;hould not attribute my Di&s;temper to that Storm which threatned me, and if 'twas ask'd <GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 span"> him know, that nothing impeded his <GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 span"> happi|ne&s;s, my Sickne&s;s excepted, that my <GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 span"> gave con&s;ent, and my <GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 span"> time <GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="2 letters">ey.</P>
<PB N="120" REF="106">
<P> I comply'd &s;o readily with this reli&s;hing Coun|&s;el, that when the Duke enter'd my Chamber <HI>I</HI> immediately fainted. He call'd for help, and the Dutche&s;s (who knew my Di&s;temper) came run|ning (drown'd in feign'd Tears) to my A&s;&s;i&s;t|ance; telling him, <HI>I</HI> had been under this indi&s;po&s;i|tion for &s;ome days, that &s;he wonder'd at the cau&s;e, and fear'd &s;ome dangerous con&s;equence. <HI>Xen&s;a</HI> was &s;urpris'd with what he heard, and the Count (who was with him) had only this Sa|tisfaction, that he &s;aw me incapable of holding any Corre&s;pondence with his Rival. However they both departed without acquainting me with what they had de&s;ign'd the preceeding day. <HI>Ar|taxus</HI> was perfectly vers'd in the Plot, and told me <HI>Martius</HI> would wait upon me at Night; that <HI>I</HI> mu&s;t not deny him that happine&s;s, that none could be con&s;cious to the interview, and every thing conduc'd to promote the de&s;ign. I lov'd, and a few Arguments &s;erv'd to per&s;wade; the Youth po&s;&s;e&s;s'd my Heart, and all my thoughts center'd in forming lovely Ideas of the bewitch|ing Conquerour. He had free acce&s;s to <HI>Bonze|da</HI>'s Garden, and by a &s;mall Ladder of Ropes (made for the purpo&s;e) he ea&s;ily got into ours. His Servant (as &s;oon as he had a&s;cended the Wall) was order'd to Withdraw the Pliant Stairs, and retire to his Ma&s;ter's Room, lea&s;t his conti|nued &s;tay had occa&s;ion'd a di&s;covery; for <HI>Bonze|da</HI> had many Windows oppo&s;ite to that place. My Brother waited at the Window (to which a &s;econd Ladder was fa&s;tned) and receiv'd him. The Duke lay in the next Room, and you may believe we forgot not to tread &s;oftly. The hap|py Youth caught me in his Arms, gaz'd, and
<PB N="121" REF="106"> &s;igh'd, as if this had been our fir&s;t meeting, &s;ince my departure from <HI>Coloa.</HI> He &s;wore no time or accident &s;hou'd weaken his Love, that he wou'd &s;how the Con&s;tancy of a Martyr, who &s;uffer'd for Eternal Joys; Nature &s;hou'd &s;tart, and all things &s;uffer change, the Frame of Beings inverted, the Earth turn'd into its primitive Chaos, e're he forgot my Charms. That if the Globe &s;hook beneath him, or gap'd &s;o wide, it &s;how'd the infernal Powers, howling and grin|ning, ratling in their Chains, and all the Souls of damn'd departed men; or if the Skies &s;hou'd &s;ink by &s;low degrees, until the Cry&s;tal Arch pre&s;s'd down his Head, he'd not fear or dream of coming death, his thoughts &s;hou'd then pay homage to his Love, and in this va&s;t and terri|ble Confu&s;ion, he'd cla&s;p the Fair, the lovely, ble&s;t <HI>Sirena,</HI> lay her all trembling to his faithful Brea&s;t, and then po&s;&s;e&s;s'd of all Heav'n could be&s;tow, he'd &s;mile, and &s;inking ki&s;s the precious trea&s;ure, laugh at the angry gods, and ble&s;s his glorious fall.</P>
<P>Thus we &s;pent the few hours; he &s;till &s;wore he lov'd, and my Eyes inform'd him how readi|ly believ'd. But the Servant returning gave the u&s;ual &s;ign, and we parted, tho' not before we had made a new Appointment.</P>
<P>The following day appear'd to both an Age, and Time &s;eem'd drow&s;ie by his tardy flight; at la&s;t the hour much wi&s;h'd for took its place, and brought the Welcome Lover to my Soul. My Brother (if by de&s;ign or chance <HI>I</HI> know not) was ab&s;ent, and we enjoy'd a Heaven without di&s;turbance. For tho' he was much e&s;teem'd by <HI>Martius</HI> and belov'd by me, yet we were both
<PB N="122" REF="107"> glad of his ab&s;ence. We &s;poke a thou&s;and ex|travagant things, and Love to us appear'd the darling Virtue of the World, the end for which we were made, and the very Cau&s;e of our Crea|tion. He &s;igh'd, and gaz'd upon me, &s;poke &s;ometimes faintly, and in a Minute would grow &s;ilent, gra&s;p my hand, ki&s;s it, and almo&s;t breath out his Soul in raptures. I felt a &s;ick'ning plea|&s;ure at my Heart, a longing joy di&s;tracted my Soul, and <HI>I</HI> wanted &s;omething to compleat the Bli&s;s, yet knew not what it was; my Blood flu&s;h'd to and fro, &s;eem'd all in every part, and in no part to &s;tay, but &s;poke my Nature to&s;s'd 'twixt fear and gladne&s;s. While thus we &s;at ble&s;t with our pre&s;ent fortune, yet unea&s;ie in the anxious wi&s;hes of a better, lo&s;ing the pre&s;ent &s;weets in thoughts of more; a &s;udden noi&s;e &s;ur|pris'd us in this Lethargy, and wak'd us from an exta&s;ie of Love. My fears on this occa&s;ion were inexpre&s;&s;ible, and (knowing it too late to make u&s;e of our hempen Stairs) I caught my blu&s;hing Lover by the hand, conjur'd him to &s;ave my Re|putation and my quiet, which were now e|vidently in danger, made &s;o only by my Love to him He who knew how to Obey, &s;mil'd, and plac'd him&s;elf behind my Bed, where he re|main'd un&s;een. The Duke &s;oon knock'd at the Door, and I as expeditiou&s;ly opened it. Ha! Daughter (cry'd he) I'm glad 'tis no wor&s;e, I heard &s;ome &s;mall noi&s;e in your Chamber, and was concern'd for your health. This I took for my Cue, and with a faint voice an&s;wered; that I had been ill mo&s;t of that day, but that I was now grown better, Ah! reply'd the Duke (who &s;tood &s;haking in his Night-Gown) you've been
<PB N="123" REF="107"> too long from your Bed, 'tis there you mu&s;t ex|pect re&s;t, for &s;leep to the Sick is a reprieve from pain. This allarm'd my Soul, and I made u&s;e of all the Arguments I could invent, to &s;how the inconveniency of that Method he propos'd to perfect my recovery; but 'twas in vain; he call'd for the Dutche&s;s, and &s;he (not knowing the Circum&s;tance of affairs) confirm'd him in his Re&s;olution. He withdrew into the next Room, and &s;he &s;taid by me, as if I had &s;tood in need of her A&s;&s;i&s;tance e're I could be undre&s;t. Thus I was oblig'd to obey; and the Duke re|turning took my Mother by the hand, and &s;o left me, having fir&s;t wi&s;h'd me good health, commended <HI>Bonzeda,</HI> and order'd one of the Maids to remove the Candles. My Charming <HI>Martius</HI> thus reliev'd, threw him&s;elf upon his knees, cla&s;p'd my hand, and &s;igh'd, as if his winged, &s;lippery Soul, had &s;ought an opportu|nity to e&s;cape its Pri&s;on; his continued &s;ilence, and eager gra&s;ps &s;poke him langui&s;hing for a Joy unknown, and I (divided between Love, Fear, and Honour) found my &s;elf unable to &s;peak my thoughts. Sudden motions of alternate Pa&s;&s;ions &s;topt my faultering Tongue, and my bo&s;om eccho|ed moving &s;ighs to his. While thus our Souls and Nature &s;eem'd at War, he gently mov'd and caught me in his Arms, laid his Head to my panting Brea&s;t, trembl'd, breath'd quick, and ki&s;s'd me with the eagerne&s;s of departing Lovers. Then giving way to a fla&s;h of Love inflam'd, he <GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter">e<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter">ch'd too &s;oon that plea&s;ure which he &s;ought, and in <GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter">he <GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter">e<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter">rch of the unbounded Joy, he lo&s;t the pre&s;ent tran&s;ports of the mind.</P>
<PB N="124" REF="108">
<P>'Twas then, Madam, he &s;poke, and begg'd a thou&s;and Pardons for the indi&s;cretion he had committed, &s;wore he lov'd me yet even to mad|ne&s;s, and would not for a thou&s;and Empires quit the Room. I begg'd (but 'twas faintly) he'd leave me; I told him his Servant no doubt wait|ed for his return, becau&s;e the time appointed was elaps'd, and if he walkt too long in the Garden, it might di&s;cover what our mutual in|tere&s;t oblig'd us to conceal. He made no re|ply, but &s;topt the &s;ound of Arguments with ki&s;&s;es, Love rea&s;um'd his Throne, and &s;et his Soul on Fire. He cla&s;pt me again in his Arms, fini&s;h'd our imperfect Joys, and <HI>I</HI> could &s;ay no more than&mdash;Ah my Honour&mdash;Will you Love&mdash;Oh kind Heavens! The Night was &s;pent with all the plea&s;ure Love could give, he &s;wore eternal Con&s;tancy, <HI>I</HI> believ'd all, lov'd all&punc; and dreamt my &s;elf in Paradi&s;e. Sleep was to both a &s;tranger, and coming Day prov'd hateful to the &s;ight, we &s;hrinkt and &s;mil'd and wi&s;h'd a Night like that, in which great <HI>Jove</HI> his dear <HI>Alemena</HI> ble&s;t, inverting order to pro|mote his Joys. At la&s;t we parted, but with tho&s;e plea&s;ant de&s;ires which Men enjoy, when dreaming of a Heaven they ne're po&s;&s;e&s;t, or know but faintly in a tempting trance, they grieve their judgment was no longer hu&s;ht, and wi&s;h and long to &s;ee the Scene again.</P>
<P>In the morning the Duke came to &s;ee me, the Count was with him, and both of them al|ledg'd I had not &s;lept la&s;t Night; that my eyes verifi'd this truth, and I was unju&s;t to my &s;elf in not having a greater regard for my Health. The fre&s;h remembrance of what had pa&s;t made <HI>Bon|zeda</HI>'s
<PB N="125" REF="108"> vi&s;it more unwelcome than ever, and my aver&s;ion for him almo&s;t ca&s;t me into a Feaver. <HI>Xen&s;a</HI> who ob&s;erv'd my di&s;order, but not the Cau&s;e, pre&s;ently left me, after he had told me, that he hop'd a few Days would bring me per|fect ea&s;e, and give him that happine&s;s he had &s;o often wi&s;h'd, of &s;eeing me married to his Friend, a Man who well de&s;erv'd my e&s;teem, and lov'd me pa&s;&s;ionately.</P>
<P>A few minutes thereafter <HI>Artaxus</HI> enter'd, and told me he had been at <HI>Bonzeda</HI>'s, had &s;een my favourite Lover, and was re&s;olv'd to go to <HI>Coloa;</HI> that he could live no longer without his <HI>Indoretta,</HI> and he'd rather chu&s;e to forfeit his Father's kindne&s;s and fortune, than endure the lo&s;s of her he lov'd; adding withal, that <HI>Martius</HI> had per&s;waded him to't. The&s;e la&s;t words gave me a va&s;t deal of Plea&s;ure; 'twas an argument of his Love, and &s;poke the la&s;t nights Joy's had rather fann'd than extingui&s;h'd his Flame. This made me (be&s;ides the help of my natural incli|nations that pleaded powerfully for him) ea&s;ily re&s;olve to &s;ee him again at the u&s;ual hour. In the mean time my Brother ply'd the Duke for his con&s;ent: He weigh'd not at fir&s;t the Cau&s;e of his Journey, and <HI>Artaxus</HI> (promi&s;ing to return in a few Days) ea&s;ily obtain'd the favour de&s;ir'd. But as he was ready to take Hor&s;e he receiv'd new Orders, for <HI>Xen&s;a,</HI> upon &s;econd Thoughts, began to &s;u&s;pect the bu&s;ine&s;s, and therefore charg'd him not to think of going to Court, 'till my Marriage with the Count &s;hould be accompli&s;h'd. <HI>Artaxus</HI> &s;torm'd and rav'd at this &s;udden change of his humour, and remem|bring Love more than Intere&s;t, took Po&s;t imme|diately
<PB N="126" REF="109"> for <HI>Coloa.</HI> The Duke was then con|firm'd in his &s;u&s;picions; and &s;wore this manife&s;t token of his di&s;obedience &s;hould never be for|got; that he'd remember him no more as his Son, and damn the hour that brought him fir&s;t to light. The Dutche&s;s forgot nothing that might excu&s;e his fault; &s;he in&s;i&s;ted on the force of Almighty Love, on the number of his Years, and how in&s;upportable 'twas for Youth to be mew'd up in a Ca&s;tle, or confin'd to the narrow bounds of a Garden: But her Arguments were of no &s;trength, and <HI>Bonzeda</HI>'s Agents in the Fa|mily added matter to the Fire of the Duke's wrath.</P>
<P>At night my Lover beat his u&s;ual Road, and enter'd my Chamber with that joy in his Face, which &s;poke his Soul at ea&s;e. I receiv'd him with that &s;ondne&s;s which my Love in&s;pir'd, and we con&s;um'd the hours in amorous Sighs, lan|gui&s;hing looks, firing Touches, melting Glan|ces, and eager Wi&s;hes. He long'd to renew tho&s;e joys which row&s;ing moving Nature taught to both; and I, who doated too much, (yet willing to pre&s;erve his Love in health) deny'd him the opportunity of a &s;urfeit, made the Heaven almo&s;t inacce&s;&s;ible, yet allow'd him tho&s;e priviledges which &s;erv'd to kindle his Soul, and make it burn for more. Thus, Madam, we liv'd happy, by &s;tarving our &s;elves in mid&s;t of Plenty, and heightning the appetite by &s;canty Joys, to a mad hunger for a wa&s;te of Plea&s;ure. My Marriage was &s;till deferr'd, and <HI>Artaxus</HI> &s;ent me a perfect Journal of his proceedings by every Po&s;t. But wearied with my continued Confinement, I &s;ometimes (and at the Duke's
<PB N="127" REF="109"> de&s;ire too) walk'd abroad: The Sea-&s;hoar was the place I commonly cho&s;e, which at la&s;t pro|duc'd this adventure.</P>
<P>All &s;ilent were, no Bea&s;t was &s;een to roam, his panting Flocks each Shepherd homewards drove, the Labourer left his Plow and wi&s;ely &s;ought for &s;helter from that heat which &s;corch'd the Earth. I &s;ate beneath a mo&s;&s;y Rock, on each &s;ide Clifts and frightful Precipices, dark Rece&s;&s;es and &s;olitary Caves, not made by art but ow'd their form to Nature. The bubling Streams with noi&s;e came tumbling down, da&s;hing from Point to Point their &s;catter'd Parts, then meet|ing roar'd and ru&s;h'd into the Main; who all receiv'd next minute to&s;t 'em back, and kept them in perpetual motion, till the Sun's attra|ctive rays exhal'd the foam from much concu&s;&s;i|on wrought, and &s;uck'd the &s;tranger body from the re&s;t. This melancholly retreat gave me inexpre&s;&s;ible Satisfaction, I view'd the irk&s;ome Shades with greedine&s;s, and langui&s;h'd with the plea&s;ure. My Maid was &s;ilent, and nothing offer'd it &s;elf to di&s;turb my contemplative Soul. While thus I &s;ate and gaz'd upon the Waves, who now appear'd like Ice or Cry&s;tal Fields, (not one breath of wind dividing the united Element) the Skies (quick as thought) grew black, the &s;luces of the burden'd Clouds flew open, and you'd thought the Heavens had mel|ted into Rain. The Birds who &s;ought their Prey upon the Waves, found a new fre&s;h Sea above them, and &s;unk beneath the &s;marting weight into the briny old. Thunder &s;oon fol|low'd the amazing change, and bur&s;ting Clouds &s;hook the tottering Globe. Fire fla&s;h'd through
<PB N="128" REF="110"> the thickned Air, and &s;how'd the gaping Hea|vens, the Skies in labour, and the jarring Ele|ments at a dreadful War. The &s;caley Mon&s;ters &s;how'd their aweful Heads, and rouz'd from the bottom of the boundle&s;s deep, howl'd, and threw up floods of gorging Waves to quench the di&s;tant heat, then grinning plung'd to hide them&s;elves from Heaven. The di&s;tant plains &s;eem'd all a heap of Rubbi&s;h, for&s;aken by eve|ry Bea&s;t, and cover'd with the Wreck, which rowling floods from neighbouring Mountains brought. To encrea&s;e the frightful Scene, the winds grew high, tore up the &s;tubborn Oaks and yielding Pines, ran&s;ack'd the plains, and &s;wept off the budding Corns, levelling the &s;uperb Palace with the humble Cottage. The won|dering trembling Swains dejected &s;tood, and &s;aw their Huts tran&s;ported from their Seats, and plac'd on Rocks, or on &s;ome ri&s;ing Grounds, who&s;e height &s;ecur'd them from a&s;piring Streams. In a word, Nature &s;eem'd mad, the Elements in a freak, and the Earth grumbl'd as if a fatal Collick had rent her peaceful Bowels. You may believe, Madam, my Soul was &s;urpris'd with the amazing &s;ight, and <HI>I</HI> dreamt of nothing more than pre&s;ent ruin. My Maid fell upon her Knees, begg'd the protection of the angry gods, and &s;wore eternal con&s;tancy to Heaven, if once reliev'd from the&s;e di&s;tracting Fears. While thus &s;he was imploy'd, I could perceive a large Ve&s;&s;el to&s;t by raging Billows, labouring to reach the open Seas, yet forc'd on &s;hoar by Winds. Pity on a &s;udden fill'd my Brea&s;t, and I had &s;o many anxious Thoughts, for the &s;afety of tho&s;e in a more imminent danger than my &s;elf, that
<PB N="129" REF="110"> my pa&s;t fears vani&s;h'd, and all my cares and wi&s;hes were for them. Ju&s;t now you'd thought the floating Ca&s;tle &s;tood on a high Mountain, making War with Heaven, and proudly threat|ning to a&s;&s;ail the Clouds. Then in a moment all its height was lo&s;t, and &s;inking Seas would plunge it deep as Hell. At la&s;t the crowding Waves ru&s;h'd doubly on, and forc'd the mov|ing Palace again&s;t a Rock. The Seamen &s;hriek'd aloud, &s;truggl'd for parting Life, and the next moment vani&s;h'd. The &s;ad Object mov'd my Tears, and <HI>I</HI> could have fainted un|der the weight of other People's Misfortunes, if a certain joy (at that time not known for &s;uch, but ari&s;ing from a &s;en&s;e of my own &s;afety) had not &s;upported me. The greate&s;t part of Man|kind loves to &s;ee his fellow Creature in evident danger; and tho' he views him with trouble, yet if he examin'd him&s;elf narrowly, he'd find the remembrance of his own Condition, (when compar'd to that of the other) gives a certain plea&s;ure that counterballances the Pain; el&s;e why &s;hould we at any time flock to &s;ee Execu|tions, Combats, Shipwracks, raging Fires, and &s;uch horrour-giving Objects; for Nature is a|ver&s;e to its Enemy, and grief no doubt is &s;uch&mdash;But to return, the Clouds who had now &s;hak'd their droping Wings withdrew. The di&s;|mal Curtain furl'd up, and Heaven &s;how'd a &s;miling Countenance, as if a Sacrifice of &s;o many Lives had a&s;&s;wag'd its hungry fury. <HI>Eolus</HI> &s;ounded a retreat to the raving Winds, who grumbling retir'd to their hated Pri&s;on, and <HI>Neptune</HI> (reliev'd from his old Di&s;turber) &s;lept as if the pa&s;t toils had forc'd him to a Peace. The
<PB N="130" REF="111"> joyful Birds came fluttering from their Ne&s;ts, &s;prung through the Air, and trod the Boughs again, then Sung, and mounting &s;pread their matted Wings. In fine, every thing &s;eem'd at liberty, but <HI>Sirena,</HI> my grief for what I had &s;een &s;unk my Soul into a demi-trance, and left me not the power to move. I con&s;ider'd the quality of that incon&s;tant Element, the Cau&s;e of Winds and Rains, how far Chance, the gods and Nature, &s;har'd in what befel us; and if Heaven (which we paint all Goodne&s;s and Mer|cy) could have a hand in the de&s;truction of &s;o many Creatures, which it &s;elf had made, or took a certain plea&s;ure in the puni&s;hment of Of|fenders, who&s;e Actions were &s;o incon&s;iderable and &s;eemingly below the notice of the Almigh|ty Mind. Thus my Soul travers'd a Labyrinth of my&s;terious Problems, my Rea&s;on exerted its Power, and almo&s;t &s;hook off the Yoak of Impo|&s;ition, &s;earching into the truth of things, which believ'd bring no ill con&s;equences, if not a real happine&s;s, and if rejected or di&s;credited, give Nature her &s;way, and &s;et the World loo&s;e, break the hinges of humane Society, and &s;et up an In&s;urance Office for Villanies and Blood|&s;hed.</P>
<P>At la&s;t, Night approach'd, and I was oblig'd to abandon my &s;olitary Tent. But, oh kind Heavens! how was <HI>I</HI> &s;urpris'd, when on the Sand two Shipwrackt Bodies lay, in fa&s;t embra|ces lockt, as if the dead Clay had retain'd a per|fect remembrance of that Union which was be|tween their Souls. Coming nearer, their Cloaths inform'd me they were of Quality, and <HI>I</HI> &s;tood &s;ometime motionle&s;s, and gaz'd upon the mov|ing
<PB N="131" REF="111"> Object&punc; where the ruines of &s;o many Beau|ties &s;o &s;weet appear'd, you'd thought death had been a gentle &s;leep, and cruel Waves been &s;oft as Summer dews. In this juncture the Duke (who had dreaded the effects of the pa&s;t Storm) ap|pear'd; and tho' naturally hardy and of a rough di&s;po&s;ition; his Soul melted at the &s;ight, and his Eyes confe&s;s'd the trouble of his Mind. He pre|&s;ently order'd his Servants to convey the dead to his Hou&s;e, and having &s;eated our &s;elves in the Coach, drove &s;traight home.</P>
<P>Some hours after, one of my Maids came running into my Clo&s;et, and with gladne&s;s told me, that the Lady whom I found on the &s;hoar was yet alive, that her Soul was loath to aban|don &s;o fair a body, and they had &s;ome hopes of her recovery. But the Man was lo&s;t beyond redemption, for not one &s;ign or Symptom of coming Life appear'd. This news bani&s;h'd that grief which had lately po&s;&s;e&s;t me for the unfor|tunate Fair; and I flew between hopes and fears to give that a&s;&s;i&s;tance in my power. When I enter'd, the &s;ick one lifted up her Eyes, look'd fix'dly upon every Object, mov'd her Lips as if &s;he had &s;trove to &s;peak, then &s;igh'd and faint|ing &s;hut them both again. The Dutche&s;s us'd her utmo&s;t Art, and drove back the po&s;ting Soul when almo&s;t gone. But having &s;pent the greate&s;t part of the Night in this Charitable Imployment, we withdrew; leaving the care of our Charming gue&s;t to my Mother's Maids and mine.</P>
<P>The joyful Birds had &s;carce u&s;her'd in the coming day when I aro&s;e. I had dreamt of this unfortunate fair One all Night, and my wi&s;hes for her &s;afety became the imployment of my
<PB N="132" REF="112"> anxious Soul. Nor did I Petition Heaven in vain, for when I enter'd the Room, &s;he mo'vd her Head from the Bed, and in an almo&s;t-dying ac|cent, begg'd Pardon for that trouble &s;he had gi|ven me, thank'd me for my a&s;&s;i&s;tance, then ask'd me the place and time in which I found her, if I had &s;een her Husband on the Shoar, for now all her fears were for him, and if he was lo&s;t, no Art, no Argument, or Cau&s;e could &s;ave her Life, her Soul was incorporate and mix'd with his, and both &s;hould wander in the other World, if not united there like Bodies here.</P>
<P>That tenderne&s;s her lo&s;s in&s;pir'd, drew Tears from my Eyes, and I faintly an&s;wer'd,&mdash;I had &s;een none &s;uch, that &s;he alone had reach'd that part of the Shoar where I had been, but that or|ders &s;hould be given to enquire of all the &s;trag|gling Shepherds, and watchful Fi&s;hermen for him &s;he wanted, that Heaven no doubt had pre|&s;erv'd him, and &s;he would &s;oon be happy. The di&s;tre&s;s'd Fair One &s;igh'd, conjur'd me to u&s;e my utmo&s;t diligence in the &s;earch, and to remember her life depended on the &s;ucce&s;s. In the mean time the Duke order'd the dead Body to be in|terr'd, according to the cu&s;tom of our Country, where nothing was wanting, which Quality have be&s;tow'd upon them, as the la&s;t mark of Honour. For by that account which the Fair One gave of him, we perfectly knew him for her Husband. The Dutche&s;s (who&s;e grief upon this occa&s;ion was in nothing inferiour to mine) advis'd me to acquaint the ignorant Widow with her &s;tate, to prevent a double pain, which the certain knowledge of her Circum&s;tances would doubt|le&s;s give. I obey'd, and in the Evening enter'd
<PB N="133" REF="112"> her Chamber with a Golden Cro&s;s (be&s;et with <GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="MURP" EXTENT="1 letter">mall Diamonds) in my hand. The mourning Fair no &s;ooner e&s;py'd me, than &s;tarting, (&s;he cry'd) is he alive? Has he &s;ent me this pledge which has co&s;t me &s;o many Tears? Am I happy? Or mu&s;t I dye? Tears ru&s;h'd into my Eyes, and &s;udden grief deny'd me the u&s;e of Words. I &s;tood &s;ome minutes &s;ilent, and at la&s;t confe&s;s'd him dead. At this unwelcome &s;ound the unhappy Fair (with a Countenance pale as death) leant her declin|ing Head upon the Pillow, lifted up her hands, and cry'd, O! Unhappy <HI>Delia!</HI> thou ha&s;t lo&s;t&mdash;and then fainted. I apply'd tho&s;e Remedies commonly us'd on &s;uch occa&s;ions, and by the force of Spirits deny'd a flight to hers. Oh Gods! when &s;he lifted up her Eyes again, how my Soul &s;orrowed for her. So dying Ro|&s;es covered o're with dew, look gay, and fre&s;h, and tempting to the &s;ight; yet move the Heart, becau&s;e their &s;weets are flying. Ah! Ma|dam, (cry'd &s;he) Pardon this undecent, but ju&s;t grief, let not my Tears di&s;turb your Peace, for a few hours will give me re&s;t for ever. My Soul murmurs at its tedious impri&s;onment, rou|zes and &s;hakes it &s;elf beneath this load of Clay, longs to be gone, and flutters in its Cage; 'tis now a traveller wrapt in contemplation, &s;urveys the happy &s;tate of &s;eparate Beings, Chalks out the way to Heaven through open Air, and longs and &s;eeks <HI>Valentio</HI> as it mounts.&mdash;Oh my Hus|band!&mdash;Oh unfortunate &s;urviving <HI>Delia!&mdash;</HI>This &s;aid, &s;he &s;igh'd, as if her heaving Brea&s;ts had pre&s;t her ri&s;ing Soul, and I (now a &s;harer in her &s;ufferings) wept, and in my &s;ilence ex|pre&s;t the pains that rackt my ea&s;ie Heart. She
<PB N="134" REF="113"> who amid&s;t her own troubles forgot not mine, con|jur'd me to leave her, and to forget I ever &s;aw her; begg'd my Pardon again for tho&s;e Tears her misfortune had brought me, and &s;wore that no temptation &s;hould fool her into a love of Life. I &s;et before her (with more affection than Art) the inconveniency of immoderate grief, taught her to hope a better fortune, and rely on Heaven. But &s;he (dumb with exce&s;s of &s;orrow) made no reply, pre&s;t my hand between hers, &s;igh'd, and cry'd <HI>Valentio!</HI> Unwilling to be gone, I &s;eated my &s;elf upon her Beds &s;ide, and with Tears be&s;ought her to remember the pre&s;ent &s;tate of her health, the impo&s;&s;ibility of retrieving what was pa&s;t, and that her Stars, though cruel in other things, had been kind in bringing her to a Hou&s;e, where &s;he might freely command as at home. She who was no &s;tranger to good breeding, and in the depth of affliction &s;how'd a ready mind, when a|ble to &s;peak, gave me an obliging return; add|ing that my cares augmented the weight of hers, and &s;erv'd to ha&s;ten the o'reburden'd Soul to an end of all its Labours. But that to repay part of tho&s;e kindne&s;&s;es I had &s;hown, &s;he'd acquaint me with her life on whom they were be&s;tow'd, that the recital of her pa&s;t adventures, or emergen|cies of Love, was now the only plea&s;ure of which &s;he was capable: For the remembrance of Joys long fled, brought back the happier State of Life, and match'd it with the pre&s;ent; then &s;how'd how far we fell, how low we &s;unk, and Charm'd the melancholy Hypocondriack Soul with a full ta&s;te of mi&s;ery; the &s;weets of the one encrea|&s;ing the &s;en&s;e of the other's bitterne&s;s. I endea|vour'd to divert her re&s;olution, and defer that
<PB N="135" REF="113"> account &s;he offer'd till her Health could con&s;ent to the labour; but 'twas in vain, for the har|ra&s;s'd Fair, after a few deep &s;ighs and dying looks, began as followeth.</P>
</DIV2>
<DIV2 TYPE="part">
<P>THE Kingdom of <HI>Marintha</HI> (to which I owe my Birth) was long di&s;tracted with the fury of a Civil War, the two pretenders to the Crown <HI>(Othar</HI> and <HI>Decius)</HI> divided the Na|tion, and he who &s;ignalized him&s;elf for neither of the Parties, was liable to the outrages of both, and judg'd a common Enemy, or at lea&s;t one that had no regard to the welfare of his Coun|try, but to his own intere&s;t; and waited with a &s;emblance of quiet, till Fate &s;hould decide the difference, and Crown the Conquerour, to whom he might &s;afely pay homage, and &s;ecure his For|tune. In the mean time my Father, who was naturally Loyal, &s;ided with <HI>Decius,</HI> who&s;e Party then was weake&s;t, while his Younger Brother (to whom Mony was a God) fled to <HI>Othar</HI>'s Camp, and there was receiv'd as a Man who brings &s;up|plies of Gold to a Prince in wants. The two Young Kings (for both were Crown'd, and maintain'd an equal Title to the Throne) impa|tient of delays, and fond to reach a Diadem in view, at la&s;t encamp'd in a large Plain, where each of them waited for the nearer advances of the other. In a few days the eager Armies met, Victory hover'd o're their Heads, view'd the terrible Combat with a &s;ecret Joy, then clapt her bloody Wings, and perch'd at la&s;t on cruel <HI>Othar</HI>'s Standard. Here poor <HI>Decius</HI> fell in &s;earch of Power, and my Father (who&s;e Quality
<PB N="136" REF="114"> and Po&s;t in the Army advanc'd him to his Prin|ces Per&s;on) lo&s;t his Life in his defence.</P>
<P>Thus <HI>Othar</HI> Conquer'd, Fame flew before his Arms, and brought the &s;ad news to that part of the Country, which had own'd the deceas'd for their King; and my Mother, who &s;oon became acquainted with her lo&s;s, fled into the other World to &s;ecure her &s;elf from an Addition to her misfortunes in this. My Uncle, (the unkind un|ju&s;t <HI>Arates)</HI> now Ma&s;ter of the new Monarch's favour, forgot that re&s;pect he ow'd to the me|mory of his Elder Brother; and having purchas'd with a bribe the gift of his E&s;tate (which the King had now taken into his own hands as a for|feiture upon the &s;core of Rebellion) he po&s;&s;e&s;t him&s;elf of the Hou&s;e, di&s;charg'd the old Servants, and kept not one in his Family but my &s;elf, that e're had &s;een or known the kinder Ma&s;ter. I was yet too Young to be &s;en&s;ible of my own mi&s;ery, and &s;mil'd and play'd about this Author of all my following ills. But reaching too &s;oon the Four|teenth Year of my Age, and my Face promi&s;ing a larger &s;tock of coming Beauties and good Na|ture, the Neighbouring Youth began to take notice of me, to &s;peak kindly to me, pay me much re&s;pect, covet to be nigh me, and &s;ighing, often inform'd me of my Circum&s;tances, and that my Eyes would purcha&s;e more than cruel fortune had robb'd me of <HI>Arates</HI> ob&s;erv'd my budding power, and wi&s;ely fore&s;aw that if I &s;hould marry to a Man of a good E&s;tate, I might (a&s;&s;i&s;ted by the help of Wealth) lay a claim to what he po&s;&s;e&s;s'd of mine, and to prevent that Misfortune which his guilt taught him to fear;
<PB N="137" REF="114"> he confin'd me to my Chamber, appointed me a &s;tern Governe&s;s, and propos'd to my Lovers the advancement of two hundred thou&s;and <HI>Malors,</HI> a Sum that exceeded in that Country the value of any E&s;tate po&s;&s;e&s;t by a Subject. Thus he in|verted the common Cu&s;tom; and in&s;tead of giv|ing a Portion, he &s;et his Niece to Sale, yet half a&s;&s;ur'd that none would buy her at a price &s;o large.</P>
<P>My Lovers in &s;hoals withdrew; at Night no mu&s;ick reach'd my longing Ear, no &s;ighs but tho&s;e the old Matron vented for her decay'd Beau|ty, and chill'd Blood. In the Morning the de|crepid old Hag awak'd me, and with eyes di|&s;tilling &s;calding Rheum, taught me how to im|ploy mine, on Books of dull Morality, and duller Rules for Life and Conver&s;ation, then mumbl'd Prai&s;es to the Almighty Power on my behalf, that &s;ent me &s;uch a Friend as old <HI>Arates</HI> (for now he had pa&s;t his great Clymacterick Year, yet &s;till a Batchelour). Thus the ignorant (with the height of Devotion) ble&s;s Heaven for a Mi&s;chief, and when infernal Powers &s;end a Plague, they thank that greater Power, who&s;e Anger for committed Crimes, only permitted the ill to be to puni&s;h &s;tiff offenders. Thus we &s;pent the tedious day, and my long impri&s;onment had almo&s;t taught my Soul to forget the thoughts of Liberty; when the dear, the loving, but the lo&s;t <HI>Valentio,</HI> (who &s;till had &s;hown a Love beyond what mine, or the noble&s;t Beauty could claim as due) at la&s;t of|fer'd the payment of the Sum propos'd The old Mi&s;er was &s;tartled with the News, and told him &s;ince his all was &s;pent in the pur&s;uit of a Woman, he mu&s;t expect to live a marry'd beg|gar.
<PB N="138" REF="115"> The young Lover laught at coming Po|verty, and &s;wore Hell it &s;elf &s;hould not fright him, or &s;hake his Soul re&s;olv'd, he lov'd to mad|ne&s;s, and he'd rather beg with <HI>Delia,</HI> trace the open Fields for Bread, and &s;eek &s;helter in a Clift beneath &s;ome hanging Rock, (where bleak Winds grumbl'd round his careful Head, and Waters murmur'd in the hollow Cha&s;ms) than live in Courts without her, where Wealth, Pomp, Pride, Luxury, and Ea&s;e, with the gau|dy &s;hows of Honour, tempted the Mercenary Soul to abandon that &s;ettl'd peace of Mind, which the Company of her we love, and a mo|derate fortune never fails to be&s;tow. My Uncle now &s;aw 'twas too late to rai&s;e Objections, and unwillingly con&s;ented to the Match on the&s;e Conditions, that <HI>I</HI> &s;hould &s;how no &s;igns of aver|&s;ion for his Per&s;on, (for he had the goodne&s;s to pretend to a Love of my welfare) and that up|on the fir&s;t Day of the &s;econd Year after his Marriage, he &s;hould add fifty thou&s;and to the number of <HI>Malcors</HI> already given.</P>
<P>Thus <HI>Aratus</HI> &s;ecur'd him&s;elf, for by the con|tinued Poverty of my Husband, he weakened the power of Revenge. For, Madam, the form of Government in <HI>Marintha</HI> differs from that of <HI>Fabria,</HI> and there Men often do them&s;elves Ju|&s;tice without having recour&s;e to Law, while the Prince (who&s;e Authority is limited by the Peo|ple, or a cho&s;en number inve&s;ted with the pow|er of the whole) winks at the&s;e Outrages, and &s;ees the &s;trong o'rethrow the injur'd weak, without offering to di&s;turb the cour&s;e of either.</P>
<P>In the mean time I was kept wholly ignorant of the&s;e Tran&s;actions, and was &s;trangely &s;ur|pris'd
<PB N="139" REF="115"> when (after a con&s;inement of two long Years, where I was &s;een by none, but my old Governe&s;s) the Gay, the Joyful, ble&s;t <HI>Valentio</HI> enter'd. I thought he too had forgot me, and tho&s;e &s;parkles of Love he had kindl'd in my Brea&s;t e're my Impri&s;onment, were now almo&s;t extingui&s;h'd, or at lea&s;t burnt &s;o faintly, I &s;carce perceiv'd the flame. The amorous Youth fell upon his Knees, darted his Eyes on mine, &s;igh'd, and (with a voice that would have charm'd a departing Soul back to Life) &s;aid, does the Di|vine <HI>Delia</HI> remember her &s;lave <HI>Valentio?</HI> Can &s;he believe I love her? That my long ab&s;ence was an effect of nece&s;&s;ity, not the will of my Heart? And that now &s;he has liberty, if &s;he can but Love. My &s;urpri&s;e at the unexpected acci|dent made me unea&s;ie, <HI>I</HI> felt a new Plea&s;ure, and had a perfect remembrance of my pa&s;t trou|bles, knew not what to an&s;wer, and wi&s;h'd he'd con&s;ult my Eyes, for the re&s;olves of my yet wavering Soul. In this confu&s;ion of the mind he gra&s;pt my Hand, forc'd it to his Mouth, and ki&s;t it with the Feaver of a violent Lover, con|jur'd me to remember how <HI>I</HI> had been us'd, to con&s;ult my rea&s;on before <HI>I</HI> &s;poke, and to make u&s;e of that opportunity which kind Heaven lent me, le&s;t my Uncle's humour alter'd to the wor&s;e, made him for ever Mi&s;erable, and gave me no hopes of better Fortune than <HI>I</HI> now enjoy'd. As he &s;poke, <HI>Aratus</HI> enter'd, and with a &s;owre Countenance told me he had always &s;hown him|&s;elf a kind Parent, and he came now to give me (in his con&s;ent to my Marriage with <HI>Va|lentio)</HI> a &s;en&s;ible mark of that affection he ever had for me. This plea&s;ant turn of &s;porting
<PB N="140" REF="116"> Fate elevated my Heart, joy &s;parkl'd in my Face, and tho' my rea&s;on could not find the Cau&s;e of this quick change, yet <HI>I</HI> was eas'd, becau&s;e <HI>I</HI> had no ground to doubt the validity of that Proof, which fell within the Cognizance of my &s;en&s;es. Then looking on him <HI>I</HI> lov'd, <HI>I</HI> blu&s;h|ing an&s;wer'd, his Choice was to me a Guide, and <HI>I</HI> &s;hould not be wanting in my endeavours to e&s;teem the Man he de&s;ign'd my Husband. The &s;urly old Man &s;eem'd pleas'd with what <HI>I</HI> &s;aid, and calling my Gouvernant&eacute;e a&s;ide, they both withdrew.</P>
<P>When he was gone, the wonderful <HI>Valentio</HI> fail'd not to thank me for my compliance, and &s;poke all that a Man who lov'd to exce&s;s could utter to the Mi&s;tre&s;s of his Soul, and <HI>I</HI> forgot not to weigh his Merit. You may wonder, dear Madam, at the ea&s;ie conque&s;t, and that not having mention'd this God-like Youth du|ring my Confinement, I &s;hould now &s;o &s;uddenly re&s;ign my Heart, and doat upon his Charms. But to remove that, con&s;ider my Years at part|ing; that from my infancy, I had more tender|ne&s;s and e&s;teem for him, than for the re&s;t of Mankind, and that he being then very young, his per&s;on and the beauties of his Soul, were better'd in the &s;pace of two Years; of this la&s;t, <HI>I</HI> mode&s;tly inform'd him, and he (who never &s;poke otherwi&s;e than he believ'd) &s;wore mine &s;urpris'd him, that <HI>I</HI> was ever the wonder of my Sex, and that Nature had &s;pent the time of my long impri&s;onment, in perfecting that no|ble Work &s;he had begun with &s;o much Art.</P>
<P>In a few days we were marry'd, and my Un|cle (who could di&s;&s;emble hand&s;omely) &s;eem'd
<PB N="141" REF="116"> well &s;atisfied with all that pa&s;t, while <HI>I</HI> (who was wholly ignorant of what my <HI>Valentio</HI> had done for me) promis'd to my &s;elf an age of Joys, and eternity of Peace and Happine&s;s to come. My young Husband's Love encreas'd with the number of his Days, and time that wa&s;tes all things, &s;erv'd to augment the force of his flame; for me he &s;eem'd to live, and if at any time my nature was di&s;order'd, it wrought that effect up|on his Soul, which Minds united for each other know. His humour &s;poke his heart &s;u&s;ceptible of Love, and capable of any tender impre&s;&s;ions, &s;ubject to anger, to revenge a &s;tranger, and form'd by bounteous Nature for a Lover. In the day time he was ever nigh me, &s;igh'd and &s;wore he ne're could Love too well, that I de|&s;erv'd the e&s;teem of all Mankind, and had Eyes of force to melt a &s;avage Heart, teach tho&s;e in|clin'd to War, practis'd in deeds of horrour, and conver&s;ant in blood, to long and langui&s;h after &s;ofter Plea&s;ures. In the Night he &s;eem'd unea&s;ie for nothing but the privation of Light, and when the Sun appear'd he'd gaze upon my Charms, and ble&s;s the day that brought us fir&s;t together. Then &s;urrounding my panting Body with his trembling Arms, he'd &s;mile upon me, and &s;wear by all the Powers above, and by my &s;elf, that no time or accident &s;hould e're deface my lovely form which the young god had rooted in his Heart; if withering Age came on, and Nature fail'd, or laid wa&s;te the field of Beauty, he'd call to mind the pre&s;ent happy minute, fetch it back from the boundle&s;s heap of Years long fled, and place it before his Eyes, renew his weaken'd Love, and doat upon his
<PB N="142" REF="117"> charming <HI>Delia,</HI> with all the longings of a hot young Lover, who can ne're be ble&s;t enough; my Eyes &s;hould kindle dying flames, we &s;hould embrace like Youth, and burn with equal Fires.</P>
<P>Thus have we lain and ble&s;t our mutual For|tunes, heard the cold North Winds battering again&s;t the Windows, and &s;hivering Oxen low|ing in the Plains, the Birds chirping on the Battlements; and bleeting Lambs proclaiming double wants, the Trees crackling again&s;t each other, and tender Blo&s;&s;oms wafted throw the Air. Then have we &s;hrinkt, lockt our &s;elves together, breath'd quick and low, and laught at di&s;tant Storms, forgot the chilling Airs that rag'd abroad, and play'd and wanton'd on the yield|ing Downs.&mdash;But ah! this charming Scene how &s;oon it fled! How quick time flew to fini&s;h &s;o much Bli&s;s! He &s;how'd his hoary Head, and mov'd like Age, to make us think he would have longer &s;taid, but while we lookt about and dreamt no lo&s;s, he mounted &s;treight and left us in di&s;tre&s;s. For &s;ix Months had &s;carce elaps'd, when my Husband began to droop, &s;igh when he lookt upon me, frequent the &s;olitary Walks, and langui&s;h under a Di&s;ea&s;e unknown. This gave me a thou&s;and Fears, <HI>I</HI> lov'd as when fir&s;t the Prie&s;t &s;aluted me a Wife, and wi&s;h'd me happy in a marry'd State, and that melancholy which po&s;&s;e&s;t my dear <HI>Valentio</HI> became Epide|mick, the Servants lookt like Gho&s;ts of Men, and <HI>I</HI> &s;eem'd the rever&s;e of Woman, or &s;ome|thing on this &s;ide or beyond Humanity, my curl'd Locks hang'd loo&s;ely in the Air, no &s;miles adorn'd my brow, my Beauties fled, and Love
<PB N="143" REF="117"> &s;eem'd ju&s;t a dying. A thou&s;and times I askt the Cau&s;e, and with Tears in my Eyes con|jur'd him to lay open his Heart, to hide none of his thoughts from <HI>Delia,</HI> who&s;e very Soul he knew devoted his; that if he lov'd me not, why would he not tell me &s;o, and make me happy when he meant me ill, for the killing &s;ound would reach my fore-boding Heart, and like &s;udden Thunder fright and &s;trike me dead. He &s;till &s;wore he lov'd me, that his melancholy pro|ceeded from &s;ome indi&s;po&s;ition of his Body, and begg'd I'd inquire no further into the Cau&s;e; with Tears in my Eyes <HI>I</HI> left him, and all my looks &s;poke my Soul unea&s;ie.</P>
<P>In the mean time, my poor <HI>Valentio</HI> became a &s;hadow, his Heart was in perpetual agitation, and heav'd his anxious Brea&s;t, as if the mighty &s;ecret had &s;truggl'd for a Vent. I ob&s;erv'd this with incredible Pain, and us'd all the arts which Love in&s;pir'd to extract the hidden My&s;tery. At la&s;t (when even Nature you'd thought nodded, as if the Globe would have &s;lipt through her Fingers, and cru&s;h'd our &s;leeping Antipodes) as in Bed we lay, I urg'd my griefs again, bid him remember how <HI>I</HI> &s;till had lov'd, the joys of that Night, when &s;miling Hymen gave his wi&s;h'd con&s;ent, how <HI>I</HI> lay fainting in his Arms &s;ick with plea&s;ure, yet willing to advance his, and wellcoming the new Joy who&s;e fiercene&s;s almo&s;t drown'd me, how eagerly he gra&s;pt me, how he pre&s;t my Lips, and &s;et my Soul on fire, when pa&s;t flames had half con&s;um'd its &s;trength. He (who now con&s;ider'd, how con&s;tantly <HI>I</HI> &s;har'd in all his wi&s;hes) melted into Love, laid a&s;ide the Heart of &s;tubborn Man, took me in his Arms,
<PB N="144" REF="118"> &s;igh'd, and cry'd, Ah <HI>Delia</HI> I am ruin'd!&mdash;Thou undone!&mdash;And cur&s;t <HI>Valentio</HI> is the cau&s;e of all!</P>
<P>'Tis needle&s;s, Madam, to repeat what fol|low'd, be&s;ides my &s;trength at pre&s;ent tells me, <HI>I</HI> mu&s;t be conci&s;e. He inform'd me of what had pa&s;t between him and <HI>Arates</HI> before the Marriage, that his Creditors were become un|ea&s;ie, that his Friends had abandon'd him, be|cau&s;e he had acted in that affair without con&s;ent or advice, and nothing could &s;ecure him but a &s;peedy flight. I believ'd my &s;elf mi&s;erable, fall'n low from the height of happine&s;s, and &s;pent the tedious Night in Tears, while he (who&s;e cares were equal to my own) conjur'd me by that Love <HI>I</HI> bore him, to undergo patiently that load of Poverty, to which his indi&s;cretion had brought me, to forget the &s;cenes of pa&s;t Loves, and to rely upon <HI>Arates</HI> (who could not chu&s;e but relent) for a return of Fortune; Love was the cau&s;e, and the Crime was ea&s;ily par|don'd; the weight of his griefs le&s;&s;ned the &s;en&s;e of my own, and the throbbings of his oppre&s;t Heart, &s;tunn'd my Soul almo&s;t into a Lethargy. <HI>I</HI> embrac'd him a thou&s;and times, &s;wore the po&s;&s;e&s;&s;ion of his Heart repay'd the lo&s;s of Wealth, and I'd &s;how the Courage of an <HI>Amazon,</HI> under my new Misfortune; begg'd he'd tender his own &s;afety, and remember that when <HI>Valentio</HI> dy'd, his <HI>Delia</HI> too was lo&s;t.</P>
<P>At la&s;t the unwelcome Day appear'd, and the afflicted youth &s;eem'd plung'd in an aby&s;s of De&s;pair. O gods! How often he did cla&s;p me in his Arms, gaze upon me, and &s;igh as if he would have &s;unk into Eternity, his rack'd. Soul
<PB N="145" REF="118"> &s;hook his tender frame, and in the labour forc'd Tears from his eyes, which the manly Youth &s;trove to hide, and to&s;t in a Sea of o'rewhelm|ing cares, remov'd the &s;igns of weakne&s;s from my &s;ight. Then &s;tarting from my embraces he'd cry, mu&s;t <HI>I</HI> leave my <HI>Delia?</HI> Mu&s;t <HI>I</HI> be damn'd to the boundle&s;s pains of an eternal Ba|ni&s;hment&mdash;Oh can <HI>I</HI> abandon Heaven in view? And &s;hut my &s;elf for ever from the joys of Paradi&s;e?&mdash;Oh my Guardian Angel, take me once more into thy Bo&s;om, give a new life to my fainting Heart, and teach me to forget my pa&s;t happine&s;s, or at lea&s;t to be in&s;en&s;ible of my coming torment; hu&s;h my warring Soul to re&s;t, and let me dream no more of what I'm doom'd to &s;uffer.&mdash;But ah, my <HI>Delia!</HI> My all! Thou better part of divided <HI>Valentio,</HI> I mu&s;t leave thee, the cur&s;e of Poverty drives me from thy Arms, and the jealous gods have en|vy'd my pa&s;t happine&s;s. <HI>I</HI> mu&s;t wander from my &s;elf, for if <HI>I</HI> retain my &s;trength of judgment, <HI>I</HI> carry Hell about me&mdash;But &s;ure my kind Me|mory won't in this exigency for&s;ake me, &s;he'll &s;tand the fir&s;t &s;hock of Fortune's Malice, and prompt me on to madne&s;s, awake me from a Lethargy of &s;orrow, and by pre&s;enting thee to my view, give a new edge to my Afflictions; divide <HI>Valentio</HI> from the Husband, and oppre&s;s me with a double load, &s;end me raving into the other World, cur&s;ing my Stars, my Fortune, nay&mdash;the gods, but mo&s;t of all my &s;elf&mdash;yet ble&s;&s;ing thee.</P>
<P>In this afflicting juncture my Courage fail'd me. I &s;aw mi&s;ery before me, and thought my &s;elf already contemn'd and trampl'd upon, by
<PB N="146" REF="119"> every Fool, who&s;e Fortune (not Merit) had be&s;tow'd upon him a larger &s;tock of Wealth than mine; for Virtue when o'reclouded with Poverty gains no e&s;teem, and he that's poor may &s;peak like an Oracle, yet unregarded, while the rich (who&s;e wit will hardly allow him the title of a Man) &s;peaks weighty Sentences, is aplauded by cringing fawning Knaves, and bubl'd into a Love of his own ignorance. Poor <HI>Valentio,</HI> read my thoughts in my Eyes, and (after a deep &s;igh that expre&s;t &s;orrow to the life) he fell into a new Delirium, exclaim'd a|gain&s;t ju&s;t Heaven, and wi&s;h'd for Thunder from the gods incens'd, to drive his tortur'd Soul unto the &s;hades; that the Centre would open and &s;wallow down his Body, or falling Mountains hide his guilty Head. Then reflect|ing on what he had &s;aid, he begg'd Heaven's pardon for him&s;elf, and protection for his weep|ing <HI>Delia;</HI> took me into his Arms, laid my Head to his beating Heart, and conjur'd me (in the name of all the gods) to forgive him, to Love him much, or el&s;e forget him &s;oon.&mdash;Now, divine <HI>Sirena,</HI> let me drop the Curtain, and hide a Scene &s;o moving, that my frighted Soul &s;tarts at the view. <HI>We lov'd and parted,</HI> and let that expre&s;s the whole.</P>
<P>When he was gone, my cares for him in|creas'd, I had forgot a thou&s;and things I had to &s;ay to him, nor could I tell to what Coun|try he de&s;ign'd to commit him&s;elf. My Uncle (by Nature cruel) &s;mil'd at my mi&s;ery, and I had no comfort but the Tears of my Servants; of that too I rob'd my &s;elf, and di&s;charg'd them all, excepting one Maid who had been with
<PB N="147" REF="119"> me from my infancy. His incens'd Creditors &s;eiz'd upon his E&s;tate, and I withdrew to a hum|ble Hou&s;e (&s;ome days Journey from that place) where I liv'd unknown, and &s;ecur'd from &s;harp|e&s;t wants by Jewels of con&s;iderable value, which my <HI>Valentio</HI> had left me.</P>
<P>In a few Months I brought a Son into the World, and tho' I &s;aw not a Fortune &s;ufficient to maintain him like the Heir of the great <HI>Valen|tio,</HI> yet I was o're-joy'd at this Gift of Heaven, and methought I read already in his Face the features of his Godlike Father; yet this comfort was &s;carce able to allay my griefs; I &s;igh'd for my ab&s;ent Husband, and con&s;um'd whole Nights in Prayers for his &s;afety. Thus I liv'd without any change of Fortune, till one Morning as I &s;at by a River's &s;ide, and recounted my pa&s;t ills, I e&s;py'd on Hor&s;eback one of my old Servants. This &s;harpned my memory, and brought <HI>Valen|tio</HI> to my Soul, with all his graces and ravi&s;hing looks about him. But as I began to create this &s;oothing Phantom, the Man approach'd; and with a merry Countenance told me <HI>Arates</HI> was dead. That to me he had left his Fortune, and that Heaven thought it fitting to reward my Vir|tue and Con&s;tancy. This News brought more grief than joy; for I no &s;ooner remembred my &s;udden flight to Happine&s;s, than I con&s;idered my Husband's ab&s;ence. If he had been pre&s;ent how ble&s;s'd we had grown, Friends had encreas'd with our Fortune, and Love had Crown'd our joys.</P>
<P>In a few days I po&s;&s;e&s;t my Fathers Hou&s;e, where his Brother had made me &s;o long a Pri&s;o|ner, and was vi&s;ited by mo&s;t of the Quality in
<PB N="148" REF="120"> the Country, and among'&s;t tho&s;e <HI>Valentio</HI>'s Re|lations, all wi&s;h'd the Youth at home, but none yet knew that Kingdom in which he re&s;ided. A mid&s;t this pomp I found my Love for him held the fir&s;t place in my Brea&s;t. Mu&s;ick encreas'd my melancholy, and Scenes of mirth fann'd the pa&s;&s;ion to a height. At la&s;t another change befel me, which in &s;hort was this.</P>
<P>My Son was indi&s;pos'd, and I had laid him upon the Bed, where &s;oon after falling a&s;leep, I was oblig'd to endeavour the &s;ame &s;tate of &s;ilence to &s;ecure his; &s;o that in a few Minutes (my Maids having quit the Room for fear of giv|ing di&s;turbance) my &s;en&s;es were partly hu&s;h'd, and I lay by him in that Condition, which &s;peaks the Soul not perfectly awake, or capable of pro|ducing a &s;eries of coherent thoughts, yet not wholly o'recome with the weight of drow&s;ie Na|ture. I had &s;pent five tedious Years alone with|out any real comfort, but the &s;miles of my Love|ly Infant, and therefore dreamt my poor <HI>Valentio</HI> dead. Methought I &s;aw him pale and trembling at my Bed's &s;ide, accu&s;ing me of that I ne're committed; then threatning &s;ad revenge for in|jur'd Honour, yet in his fury &s;till with-held by Love. This &s;uddenly rouz'd my wandering Judgment, and &s;tarting with the quick return of &s;catter'd thoughts, I leapt from the Bed, call'd for <HI>Valentio,</HI> &s;ought him through the Room, as if I had really &s;een him, then laughing at my own frenzy, I retir'd into my Clo&s;et, where (to my infinite &s;urprize) a Cavaleer (nobly dre&s;t) caught me in his Arms, and cry'd, Oh <HI>Delia! Delia!&mdash;</HI>I have thee&mdash;I &s;ee thee&mdash;my Rea&s;on runs to madne&s;s with exce&s;s of Joy, and I
<PB N="149" REF="120"> could &s;ink beneath the va&s;t load of &s;oothing plea&s;ure. The Charming voice &s;oon inform'd my watchful Soul.&mdash;Oh gods!&mdash;Oh too kind Heav'n! (I cry'd) my Husband!&mdash;my <HI>Valentio!&mdash;</HI>my Love! Oh what &s;hall I &s;ay? gladne&s;s confounds me, and <GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter"> am dumb with ex|ta&s;ie. To expre&s;s this meeting, Madam, I need &s;ay no more than that our Tears of Joy were as numerous as tho&s;e of &s;orrow at our parting, when we never dreamt of being ble&s;t again. My ha&s;ty impatient fancy &s;tarted a thou&s;and que&s;ti|ons, which &s;poke my love out-run my tardy Judgment, and he (who had as much to ask as my &s;elf) an&s;wer'd in one word, and made new demands in the next. We gaz'd on each other, then embrac'd, ki&s;s'd the dear pledge of our Loves (who was now awake) &s;igh'd, and bill'd again like cooing Turtles in a &s;hady Grove, where peeping lights inform them &s;torms are pa&s;t, and they may perch again on loftier Boughs. When the fir&s;t tran&s;ports were over, I inform'd him of my. Fortunes, and he (to oblige me) gave this &s;uccinct and Cur&s;ory account of his ab|&s;ence.</P>
</DIV2>
<DIV2 TYPE="part">
<P>WHen I left thee (my lovely <HI>Delia)</HI> I felt all tho&s;e pains which could po&s;&s;e&s;s a ten|der Soul; one who had lov'd, and made the Centre of his wi&s;hes mi&s;erable, while her good|ne&s;s (that permitted her not to complain) &s;how'd (in more lively colours) the horror of his guilt. I had not before that time examin'd my own re|&s;olutions, and being wholly indifferent in what Country I &s;pent the remainder of hated life, I rid &s;ome days rather a confus'd Wanderer, than
<PB N="150" REF="121"> a formal or re&s;olv'd Traveller. At la&s;t I arriv'd (after 7 Months &s;pent on the way) at a Frontier Town of <HI>Peru-alta,</HI> and there having learnt the Language of the Country, I went to the Camp, where the pre&s;ent King <HI>Pharnaces</HI> re&s;ided in Per|&s;on. I had not &s;tay'd long, e're <HI>oppertunity</HI> of|fer'd her &s;elf to my advantage, <HI>Fortune</HI> courted my wi&s;hes, and pre&s;ented the Enemy to our view. We encounter'd, and (my lo&s;&s;es having taught me how to value my Per&s;on) I did more than &s;olid Rea&s;on could a&s;&s;ent to, and had the honour to &s;ave my General when di&s;mounted, and al|mo&s;t trod to death by the Enemies Hor&s;e, who ru&s;h'd on in joyful crowds at their &s;eeming Victo|ry, not coveting blood &s;o much as a noble Pri&s;o|ner. This piece of &s;ervice gain'd me his acquain|tance and e&s;teem, and his Kin&s;man (the haughty young <HI>Anthar&s;us)</HI> &s;how'd me not a few &s;igns of his good will. But Winter &s;oon follow'd the Battel, and the Scene (where honour was to be got) withdrew, and left the impatient Youth of the Army in their Winter Quarters, wi&s;hing a return of the Year, that <HI>Mars</HI> would again &s;how his Head, and rouze their dying Spirits. When that time came, my grateful General, who remember'd my pa&s;t acti|ons, gave me the Command of five hundred Hor&s;e. And having receiv'd Orders to view the po&s;ture of the Enemy, I found my &s;elf encompa&s;|&s;ed in a Wood by a greater Number. My men &s;hrunk when fir&s;t a&s;&s;aulted, and offer'd to &s;ecure them&s;elves by flight. But &s;eeing that re&s;i&s;tance I made with the remaining few, and finding the way &s;topt, they became more re&s;olute, and turn'd to &s;ell their lives for dear-bought honour. In this Engagement I lo&s;t three hundred and fifty Soul|diers,
<PB N="151" REF="121"> kill'd of the Enemy &s;even hundred and nine, and return'd to the Camp with &s;our&s;core Pri&s;oners, of which he that commanded the ad|ver&s;e Party was one. The General (who was more o're joy'd at my &s;ucce&s;s than my &s;elf) &s;wore &s;uch an Action as this de&s;erv'd to be eternally re|member'd, and next day pre&s;ented me to the King, at which time <HI>I</HI> had the Honour to ki&s;s his Hand, and to be &s;til'd the Soul of his Army. <HI>Reduan</HI> (for that was the General's name) extoll'd my Valour to the Skies, and the Queen (who was pre&s;ent) readily an&s;wer'd &s;he believ'd all, for the Countenance of the Noble Stranger &s;poke his Prai&s;es to the World, e're he opened his mouth. <HI>I</HI> thankt her with that re&s;pect her Qua|lity in&s;pir'd, and her Daughter (the Prince&s;s <HI>Almeria)</HI> who&s;e Eyes were fix'd on mine, blu&s;h'd as I &s;poke.</P>
<P>Fortune (not yet wearied of doing good) brought me once more into the Field, where I &s;av'd the King's Life twice in one hour, and was at Night preferr'd to the Po&s;t of Captain of his Maje&s;ty's Guards, Gentleman of the Bed-cham|ber, and Knight of the <HI>Dacian</HI> Order. <HI>Alman|zor</HI>'s Fortune never equall'd mine, for in le&s;s than &s;ix weeks after my Advancement, <HI>I</HI> beat the Enemy thrice; and at la&s;t drove them to the ne|ce&s;&s;ity of &s;uing for a Peace. The old King &s;till entru&s;ting me with his Army, while the gene|rous <HI>Reduan</HI> (wearied with the Toyls of War) attended his Prince's per&s;on, and &s;aw the youth of <HI>Peru-alta</HI> &s;weating in blood for the &s;miles of that airy Mi&s;tre&s;s, Honour, of who's favour and friend|&s;hip he him&s;elf had been long po&s;&s;e&s;t.</P>
<PB N="152" REF="122">
<P> Things being at la&s;t compos'd to <HI>Pharnaces</HI> advantage, he abandon'd the hard&s;hips of a Camp for the &s;ofter plea&s;ures of a Palace, and fix'd his moving Court on the Banks of the River <HI>Sapho.</HI> I had a &s;tately Appartment a&s;&s;ign'd me within the Gates, and at Night felt my &s;elf a Pri&s;oner in a guilded Cage; thou my Dear <HI>Delia</HI> fill'd my Soul, I thought I &s;aw thee pen&s;ive and alone, de&s;pis'd by all, and &s;hun'd by tho&s;e who knew thee, with|out Friends and without me, reflecting on thy pa&s;t happine&s;s, and mourning the pre&s;ent &s;tate; I've &s;igh'd for thee till my heaving Heart has &s;hook the tottering Bed, and waking implor'd the Pity of the Gods, or if I dreamt, my Soul was with her I lov'd, &s;urvey'd her Charms, and return'd to glad my longing Heart, which too &s;oon found out the tempting Cheat, and weep'd becau&s;e it no longer cozen'd.</P>
<P>One Night while I lay in this Melancholy con|dition, a &s;mall noi&s;e on the Stairs &s;urpriz'd me, immediately after my door was opened, and I could &s;ee the Queen enter my Chamber with a light in her hand. I feign'd a dead &s;leep, and &s;he who took it for real, approach'd my Bed without any &s;igns of fear. Stood almo&s;t motion|le&s;s, gaz'd upon me, &s;igh'd, and then retir'd. This odd &s;ort of vi&s;it very much affected me, and tho' <HI>I</HI> had &s;ome grounds to &s;u&s;pect the Cau&s;e, yet it gave me matter enough for a great many reflecti|ons. But while I div'd into this My&s;tery, my Door was a &s;econd time &s;et open, and I could hear a Woman's Foot pre&s;s the floor, who after a &s;hort &s;tay withdrew, and &s;uddenly re-enter'd with a Candle, coming to my Bed's &s;ide, &s;he
<PB N="153" REF="122"> &s;how'd the Beauties of an Angel. She had a loo&s;e embroider'd Night-Gown about her, which &s;ome|times flew open, and di&s;cover'd to the View a thou&s;and ravi&s;hing Charms, her tender Shapes glanc'd through the fine wrought Shift, and al|mo&s;t gave Enjoyment by the &s;ight, and I had no doubt &s;hown my &s;elf awake, if &s;he had not in a few Minutes abandon'd the Room. When &s;he was gone, how &s;oon did <HI>Delia</HI>'s lovelier form check my wandering fancy, and I damn'd my pa&s;t wi&s;hes when I thought of thee. Thy Beau|ties &s;till &s;urmounts hers, and that of all Women, and <HI>Almeria</HI> (for 'twas &s;he) &s;oon vani&s;h'd from my Soul.</P>
<P>Next morning the King, Queen, and Princes went a Hunting, attended by mo&s;t of the No|bility. As we pa&s;t a &s;pacious Heath &s;ome Miles from Court, it was my Fortune to ride next to her Maje&s;ty; &s;he ey'd me with a plea&s;ant Coun|tenance, and told me &s;he pre&s;um'd by my looks, <HI>I</HI> came abroad to catch Hearts, that my Eyes had tenderne&s;s in them, and <HI>I</HI> could not fail of gain|ing &s;ome Fair Pri&s;oner. This obliging di&s;cour&s;e put me to the Blu&s;h, and <HI>I</HI> was at a lo&s;s for &s;ome time what to an&s;wer. While &s;he, who was no &s;tranger to intrigue and Gallantry, rea&s;&s;um'd the di&s;cour&s;e, and told me that <HI>I</HI> was not oblig'd to &s;tudy for an an&s;wer, &s;ince one kind look, or be|witching &s;mile, was enough to repay a thou&s;and &s;uch complements. Adding, &s;he &s;uppos'd <HI>I</HI> was Born a &s;tranger to <HI>Peru-alta,</HI> I ow'd my Birth to &s;ome colder Climate, where Love was not the grand bu&s;ine&s;s of the Nation, that with them &s;uch addre&s;&s;es were common, that &s;he was not yet very
<PB N="154" REF="123"> old, and the King already doated. Believe me <HI>Delia I</HI> knew not how to an&s;wer; the Letchery of the Royal Baud exceeded what I e're had &s;een in all my travels: But ju&s;t as <HI>I</HI> was ready to &s;peak, (and the &s;parkling of her Eyes inform'd me &s;he wanted a return) the King approach'd, and <HI>I</HI> ble&s;t my Stars for the lucky hit. With the fir&s;t opportunity I cho&s;e another Road, and fell into a new &s;nare, &s;tudying to evite the old. For <HI>Almeria</HI> (who had &s;een me with her Mother) &s;miling ask'd me, if the Charms of a Queen had gain'd my Heart, if Maje&s;ty and Power could do more than Youth, and a moderate portion of Beauty. This &s;trange Method very much &s;ur|pris'd me, <HI>I</HI> had con&s;ider'd but faintly the na|tures of the&s;e Ladies, and almo&s;t fancy'd the King's Jealou&s;ie the cau&s;e of all, that they flatter'd to try me, and &s;eem'd fond to advance my ruine. However as I was about to reply, <HI>Anthar&s;us</HI> came galloping up, and <HI>I</HI> was opportunely reliev'd from a &s;econd <HI>Dilemma.</HI> He &s;how'd a va&s;t &s;ubmi&s;&s;ion to the Prince&s;s's Commands, and the lea&s;t of his Actions &s;poke his care to plea&s;e, yet he did all with an Air that &s;poke him inwardly proud, and of a &s;urly di&s;po&s;ition. <HI>Almeria</HI> fretted at the accident, and by her Conver&s;ation gave him undoubted marks of her di&s;plea&s;ure. The haughty young Souldier ea&s;ily ob&s;erv'd it, and gue&s;t the cau&s;e. The Natives of that Country are generally blacker than tho&s;e of <HI>Merintha,</HI> and a Man of my Complexion &s;eem'd a Demi-God among&s;t them. Next day <HI>I</HI> had a Note &s;ent me to this purpo&s;e.</P>
<LETTER LANG="eng">
<PB N="155" REF="123">
<OPENER><SALUTE>SIR,</SALUTE></OPENER>
<P><HI>If you are the &s;ame you'd have your &s;elf e&s;teem'd, meet me two hours hence, (arm'd only with your Sword) on the Meadow by the River's &s;ide, where, in the &s;ame Condition and without Attendants, you will find</HI></P>
<CLOSER><SIGNED>Anthar&s;us.</SIGNED></CLOSER>
</LETTER>
<P>This did not much &s;urpri&s;e me, I knew the Cau&s;e, he envy'd my Fortune, and judg'd I had robb'd him of his Honour, and that e&s;teem the King and Army had of him, but mo&s;t of all he grudg'd me <HI>Reduan</HI>'s favour and <HI>Almeria</HI>'s. In the mean time I fail'd not to wait upon him, and without a recital of Particulars, know, I got Victory on my &s;ide, for after he had receiv'd three Wounds, he fell with his Sword in his Hand. <HI>I</HI> &s;oon order'd the Body to be taken up, and in my Coach (which waited at a &s;mall di&s;tance) &s;ent him to his Apartment in the Court. Then going &s;traight to the King, <HI>I</HI> fell upon my Knees, begg'd his Pardon, and confe&s;t the truth of what had pa&s;t. The old Man weigh'd not the Challenge &s;ent me, and giving way to his pa&s;&s;ion, commanded me in&s;tantly to Pri&s;on. <HI>I</HI> laid my Sword at my Prince's Feet, and with|out murmuring obey'd. At Night (when all was hu&s;ht) <HI>Almeria</HI> came to &s;ee me, &s;he urg'd her Love, the hazard &s;he run for this dear Vi&s;it, bid me hope for &s;udden Freedom, and &s;wore &s;he'd abandon the pro&s;pect of being a Queen, rather than <HI>I</HI> &s;hould &s;uffer. While &s;he &s;poke
<PB N="156" REF="124"> the generous <HI>Reduan</HI> enter'd, and &s;eeing the Prince&s;s, was about to retire; but &s;he kindly call'd him back, told him &s;he was fully a&s;&s;ur'd of his Hone&s;ty and Friend&s;hip, and would conceal nothing from him; my Friend begg'd her Par|don and mine for the indi&s;cretion of his Kin&s;|man, and (knowing the Prince's mind) added he was glad of that choice &s;he had made, for no Man could better fill the Throne of <HI>Pharnaces,</HI> than the Warlike <HI>Valentio,</HI> (for <HI>I</HI> had not chang'd my Name, becau&s;e a&s;&s;ur'd none knew from whence <HI>I</HI> came) that my Conduct &s;poke my Quality an&s;werable to my Fortune, and my Courage fit for Empire. The Royal Maid was pleas'd with what he &s;aid, and in the mean time ask'd him what expedient he could propo&s;e for my Liberty? he (who ever e&s;teem'd me beyond my Merit) advis'd her to confe&s;s to her Father that affection &s;he had for me, which in the fir&s;t place would &s;ecure my Life, if his Kin&s;man (who was dangerou&s;ly wounded) dy'd; and <HI>Pharnaces</HI> having no more Children, could not (with rea&s;on &s;afe) cro&s;s her inclinations too far, le&s;t he &s;hould endanger her Health. Kind <HI>Al|meria</HI> at fir&s;t was &s;ilent, but con&s;ulting Love, &s;he gave con&s;ent; de&s;iring <HI>Reduan</HI> fir&s;t to &s;peak favourably of me, and give him a hint of her pa&s;&s;ion, that &s;he might not have the fir&s;t &s;hock of his fury, which would undoubtedly follow the unlook'd for News.</P>
<P>The General fail'd not to obey, and <HI>Pharna|ces</HI> (naturally ha&s;ty) &s;torm'd at what he heard, wonder'd he &s;hould favour the murderer of his Kin&s;man, and a &s;tranger, and &s;wore my Life
<PB N="157" REF="124"> &s;hould an&s;wer for the Crime committed. My good old Friend alledg'd, he ought not to con|&s;ider <HI>Valentio</HI> as a Foreigner, but the pre&s;erv|er of his Life and Honour, and one who po&s;&s;e&s;t the affection of his Souldiers and Daughter; as he pronounc'd the&s;e la&s;t Words the Prince&s;s enter'd, and by her Tears mollified the &s;tubborn old Man; (for tho&s;e &s;ubject to &s;udden anger are ea&s;ily per&s;waded) you may believe, my <HI>Delia, I</HI> long'd to be inform'd of the &s;ucce&s;s, and was plea&s;antly &s;urpris'd when my Lieutenant en|ter'd, &s;how'd my Keeper his Orders, re&s;tor'd me my Sword, and told me <HI>I</HI> was again a Fa|vourite. <HI>I</HI> knew this &s;udden Change an effect of <HI>Almeria</HI>'s Love, <HI>Reduan</HI>'s Friend&s;hip, and the Queen's Dotage, for as <HI>I</HI> was inform'd after|wards by her &s;elf, &s;he forgot not to intercede for me with her ea&s;ie Husband; <HI>Pharnaces</HI> receiv'd me with a calm brow, the Daughter blu&s;h'd, and the Mother bid me by her looks con&s;ider her as the Author of my Liberty. <HI>I</HI> was divi|ded among&s;t them, thou (my Dear) po&s;&s;e&s;t my Heart, <HI>Almeria</HI> my e&s;teem, <HI>Reduan</HI> my Friend|&s;hip and Gratitude, and the Queen my pity with a mixture of aver&s;ion. In the evening <HI>I</HI> went along with the General, and &s;aw <HI>Anthar|&s;us</HI> &s;how'd my grief for my own good Fortune, begg'd he'd believe me his well-wi&s;her, and &s;wore <HI>I</HI> was ready to &s;erve him at all times, and upon all occa&s;ions.</P>
<P>A few days after the King took me a|&s;ide, and having call'd for <HI>Reduan,</HI> we enter'd his Clo&s;et, tho not before Orders given to ac|quaint the thronging Courtiers, that he was not
<PB N="158" REF="125"> to be &s;een. <HI>Valentio</HI> (&s;aid he with a kind air) my Daughter loves you too much, and though <HI>I</HI> have that e&s;teem for you which all good Men have, yet <HI>I</HI> &s;hould be &s;orry, if <HI>I</HI> were oblig'd to give my Crown to a Man who has none of my Progenitors blood in his Veins, be&s;ides my Subjects will never &s;ubmit patiently to the Go|vernment of a &s;tranger. Advi&s;e with your Friend and mine, and (if po&s;&s;ible) find a method by which <HI>I</HI> may be &s;ecur'd from my ju&s;t fears, and <HI>Almeria</HI>'s too violent pa&s;&s;ion may be kept a &s;ecret. <HI>I</HI> readily propos'd my ab&s;ence, to which he and <HI>Reduan</HI> &s;eem'd much aver&s;e, and forc'd me to &s;econd thoughts. <HI>I</HI> had conceal'd my Marriage from them both, and was now irre|&s;olute if I &s;hould inform them; but finding no other way to e&s;cape, <HI>I</HI> confe&s;s'd the truth, told them, <HI>I</HI> had a Wife with the Face of an Angel, and the perfections of a godde&s;s, one whom <HI>I</HI> could never cea&s;e to Love, and for who&s;e &s;ake <HI>I</HI> would abandon more than Empire. <HI>Pharna|ces</HI> rejoyc'd at the Di&s;covery, and generous <HI>Re|duan</HI> was rather pleas'd than incens'd, becau&s;e (as he &s;aid) <HI>I</HI> had Courage without extravagant Ambition, and a real Love without the ba&s;e al|lay of Intere&s;t. The King (who was not long a plotting what next to do) conjur'd me to bring thee to Court, that nothing would &s;ooner quench <HI>Almeria</HI>'s flame, than to &s;ee me fond of another, whom <HI>I</HI> was more powerfully oblig'd to Love; that <HI>I</HI> &s;hould ever be Ma&s;ter of my pre&s;ent for|tune, and as opportunity offer'd, he'd advance me to a greater, that he was loath to lo&s;e &s;o good a Friend and Souldier, and if <HI>I</HI> left the
<PB N="159" REF="125"> Court without de&s;igning a &s;peedy return, his Daughter would think it an effect of his Com|mands, and would for ever impute the lo&s;s to him, langui&s;h for my ab&s;ence, and murmur at his cruelty; that if my <HI>Delia's</HI> pre&s;ence did not convince her of her errour, he'd afterwards be|&s;tow upon me a competency for Life, and <HI>I</HI> &s;hould retire to what corner of the World <HI>I</HI> pleas'd. <HI>I</HI> left thee without a Fortune, <HI>I</HI> was ignorant of what Heaven had done for thee, and in a word, <HI>I</HI> embrac'd the offer. <HI>I</HI> ki&s;t the Queen's Hand, and that of the amorous young Prince&s;s, promis'd to return in a few Months, &s;aw <HI>Anthar&s;us</HI> in the way to perfect Health, and left the con&s;tant, kind <HI>Reduan</HI> &s;orrowful for my ab&s;ence. On the road <HI>I</HI> had a thou&s;and Fears for thy &s;afety, and when <HI>I</HI> dreamt thee Well, <HI>I</HI> joy'd becau&s;e my relenting Stars had made me Ma&s;ter of a Fortune &s;uitable to thy Quality, tho' not Merit.</P>
<P>When <HI>I</HI> cro&s;t the River of <HI>Tara,</HI> which di|vides <HI>Merintha</HI> from <HI>Amula, I</HI> was inform'd of <HI>Arates</HI>'s death, and coming &s;traight to this Hou&s;e, <HI>I</HI> was told by your faithful Maid <HI>Me|li&s;&s;a,</HI> that you was in this Chamber alone, con|cealing the Story of my little Son, that you might glad my Soul with the welcome News. When <HI>I</HI> enter'd, <HI>I</HI> found you upon the Bed, and e&s;pying the Hat and Feather beyond you, (the ob&s;cure light, for the Curtains were drawn, de|nying a full view of his Face) <HI>I</HI> had a thou&s;and &s;udden Fears, <HI>I</HI> thought thee fal&s;e, and in a height of unaccountable pa&s;&s;ion drew my Sword, with a de&s;ign to puni&s;h the Treachery.&mdash;But
<PB N="160" REF="126"> oh, ye merciful gods! how ravi&s;h'd <HI>I</HI> was to know my &s;elf deceiv'd; for while&punc; <HI>I</HI> &s;truggl'd between &s;udden Pa&s;&s;ion, Love, and the weak remains of dying Rea&s;on, the lovely Boy mov'd. Pardon, O my <HI>Delia,</HI> (continued he, and tak|ing me in his Arms) this Crime, which nothing but exce&s;s of Love can excu&s;e, and believe, that, &s;atisfied and per&s;waded of thy fidelity, <HI>I</HI> retir'd into the Clo&s;et, with that joy at my Heart, which none can know till doubly ble&s;s'd like me.</P>
<P>Here he ended his Relation, and <HI>I</HI> felt the motions of my Heart, which are not ea&s;ily ex|pre&s;s'd. <HI>I</HI> griev'd the ea&s;ine&s;s of his Nature, that by a &s;eeming guilt &s;uffer'd his Rea&s;on to be di&s;po&s;&s;e&s;t, that unheard, he could re&s;olve to pu|ni&s;h, and without Tryal pronounce my Doom. Yet the&s;e thoughts were &s;oon remov'd, when <HI>I</HI> remembred his con&s;tancy, how for me he had renounc'd the hopes of a Crown, and for the &s;miles of a Wife, abandon'd courting Maje&s;ty. But that which mo&s;t rack'd me, was the nece&s;|&s;ity <HI>I</HI> lay under, of traveiling to <HI>Peru-alta; I</HI> form'd to my &s;elf a frightful <HI>Idea</HI> of the Court, dreaded the Queen and Prince&s;s, and thought <HI>Valentio</HI> already forc'd from my Arms between them. But then remembring how far his Ho|nour was engaged, how gratitude forc'd his re|turn, and that he'd forfeit life &s;ooner than his Promi&s;e; how the King e&s;teem'd him, how <HI>Reduan</HI> lov'd him, and the intere&s;t his eminent Services had gain'd him in the Nation; <HI>I</HI> began by quick degrees to change tho&s;e thoughts, for
<PB N="161" REF="126"> others more agreeable. In a word, Madam, after a few Weeks we began our Journey, and becau&s;e nothing of con&s;equence hapned on the Road, (excepting that <HI>Meli&s;&s;a</HI> lay three days &s;ick) <HI>I</HI> &s;hall change the Scene, and in a mi|nute, place my &s;elf at the Court of <HI>Pharnaces.</HI> The King &s;wore him&s;elf o'rejoy'd at my Hus|band's Arrival, <HI>Reduan</HI> &s;how'd a con&s;tant Friend|&s;hip, the Queen &s;mil'd, and <HI>Almeria</HI> alone &s;eem'd dejected. She upbraided <HI>Valentio</HI> with Treachery, becau&s;e he had di&s;&s;embl'd his real Circum&s;tances; yet &s;aid &s;he forgave him, &s;ee|ing the Charms of his happier <HI>Delia</HI> &s;ufficiently excus'd the Crime. The Youth at Court came frequently to &s;ee me, and <HI>Anthar&s;us</HI> (who by the King's &s;pecial Command was reconcil'd to my Husband) made always one in the Crow'd. He &s;eem'd very much to affect my Maid, and believe me, Madam, &s;he out-did all the Beau|ties at Court. The Prince&s;s, ('tis true) was lovely, and had a &s;ingular Maje&s;ty in all her Actions, yet not &s;o powerful in the a&s;&s;ault of a Heart as <HI>Meli&s;&s;a.</HI></P>
<P>Things &s;tood not long in this Po&s;ture, for my Husband's ancient Enemy &s;till retain'd a perfect remembrance of the affront put upon him, and &s;tudying revenge, at la&s;t this opportunity offer'd. The General and <HI>Valentio</HI> were di&s;|cour&s;ing concerning the Natures of Women, the con&s;tancy of &s;ome, and the weakne&s;s of others, if the Cau&s;es proceeded from the di&s;po&s;ition of the Body, or the Mind; and if any Man could a&s;&s;ure him&s;elf of his Wife's fidelity, <HI>Reduan</HI> (according to his u&s;ual goodne&s;s) &s;wore my Hus|band
<PB N="162" REF="127"> was happy, that he believ'd his <HI>Delia</HI>'s Virtue proof again&s;t the &s;tronge&s;t Temptation, and <HI>I</HI> &s;eem'd Mi&s;tre&s;s of a Judgment of force to beat off tho&s;e a&s;&s;aults, which (with incredible ea&s;e) would o'return the re&s;olutions of others. <HI>Valentio</HI> thankt him for this Complement; and <HI>Anthar&s;us</HI> &s;wore all Women were fickle as the Winds; he'd debauch her, that pretended mo&s;t to Cha&s;tity, and bani&s;h Virtue from her thoughts in le&s;s than three Days; that mode&s;ty with our Sex, was but a Cloak to private Sins, our Nature's wavering (or rather veering) to|wards the point of Vice, and with-held only by a fond Love of Reputation, which exactly weigh'd, is rather innate Pride. The General &s;how'd his di&s;like of what he &s;aid, and calmly bid him con&s;ult his Rea&s;on e're he &s;poke; but my Husband who took impatiently every thing that came from him, and who knew the words levell'd again&s;t him&s;elf in particular, told him (with anger in his looks) that <HI>Delia</HI> was proof again&s;t him and all Men, that he &s;hould have acce&s;s to his Hou&s;e, and if <HI>I</HI> chang'd my Love, or endanger'd his Honour, he'd forfeit his Life. <HI>Anthar&s;us</HI> &s;uddenly reply'd, 'twas too great a Wager, but he'd lay his Fortune at &s;take, (a common Bet in that Country) that <HI>Valentio</HI> &s;hould ab&s;ent him&s;elf for three Days, and at his return receive undeniable proofs of his errour in tru&s;ting to a Woman. Hone&s;t <HI>Reduan</HI> chid his Kin&s;man, and oppos'd the budding mi&s;|chief. But my Husband (confident of my Con|duct) was re&s;olute, and &s;wore he would not upon any terms de&s;i&s;t; and that a few Days
<PB N="163" REF="127"> would experimentally teach the young Man, not to tru&s;t too much to his Merit, or to over|rate his Per&s;on or Parts.</P>
<P><HI>Valentio</HI> &s;oon writ to me, by which <HI>I</HI> was in|form'd, he had receiv'd &s;udden Orders from the King, that he was oblig'd to vi&s;it a Town &s;ome Miles di&s;tant, and <HI>I</HI> &s;hould not expect his re|turn till the fourth Day following <HI>Anthar|&s;us</HI> (already half a&s;&s;ur'd of &s;ucce&s;s) came imme|diately to &s;ee me, and took care that mo&s;t of his acquaintance &s;hould have notice of his Vi&s;it, he frequented the Windows, and upon every trivial Occa&s;ion fool'd me thither, that all might know us together: At Night he enter'd privately, and finding <HI>Meli&s;&s;a</HI> in her Chamber, he renew'd his Addre&s;&s;es to her, &s;he (whom Ambition had blinded) had &s;carce the power to deny him any thing. He &s;wore boundle&s;s Love for her, and &s;eem'd to de&s;ire nothing more than a &s;peedy Marriage between them. With this bait he ea&s;ily deluded the credulous Maid, and gave her large pre&s;ents to confirm her in the mi&s;take. On the other hand, he propos'd no other proof of her affection, than the delivery of that thing which her Mi&s;tre&s;s mo&s;t e&s;teem'd, and which &s;he knew <HI>Valentio</HI> had given me. She readily comply'd, and (while I &s;lept) &s;tole the Key of my Cabinet, taking from thence this Cro&s;s which now you &s;ee, and which my Husband had given me when he fled from <HI>Merintha.</HI> The young Man (glad of his feign'd Victory) gave her a Jewel of a con&s;iderable value, con|jur'd her to conceal this Tran&s;action from all the World, and retired to his own Ap|partment,
<PB N="164" REF="128"> eas'd becau&s;e he had begun his Ri|val's ruin.</P>
<P>When <HI>Valentio</HI> return'd, he &s;aw too &s;oon the &s;toln mark of fictitious Conque&s;t, and believ'd me ba&s;e. He di&s;&s;embl'd all when in my Com|pany, tho' not &s;o well as to blind my fore-boding Soul. I askt the cau&s;e of his di&s;content, and he rea&s;&s;um'd his old excu&s;e, want of Health. Thus we liv'd, I was ignorant of what had pa&s;t, he jealous and tormented, <HI>Meli&s;&s;a</HI> glad of her com|ing Fortune, and <HI>Anthar&s;us</HI> fond of his own Villany. The Nights were &s;pent with diffe|rent pa&s;&s;ions on all &s;ides, and Day was always welcome to my watchful Soul.</P>
<P>One Morning the lo&s;t <HI>Valentio</HI> askt me if <HI>I</HI> would go with him into the Fields: I readily con&s;ented, and having &s;eated our &s;elves in the Coach, we drove a Mile by the River's &s;ide, and then alighted. Sorrow pre&s;t his Brow, and his looks &s;poke his Heart plung'd in grief; yet &s;till methought <HI>I</HI> read anger (or rather gloomy revenge) in his Eyes. We walkt another whole Mile without exchange of Words, and my Heart (&s;inking with the &s;udden apprehen&s;ion of &s;ome coming mi&s;chief) taught me to expect greater troubles than yet <HI>I</HI> had known. While thus we walkt he caught me in his Arms, cry'd aloud, This for my Honour lo&s;t! Now Love <HI>Anthar&s;us!</HI> Then threw me head-long down the hanging Bank. The Streams with mercy yet receiv'd me, and my Cloaths kept me a-float, till a Neighbouring Shepherd came to my relief. The poor Man took me home to his Hou&s;e, and made u&s;e of Remedies within his Power to bring
<PB N="165" REF="128"> me back to Life. When my Rea&s;on rea&s;&s;um'd its Seat, <HI>I</HI> enquir'd of my deliverer, if any o|ther Man appear'd to &s;ave me from &s;inking, and he a&s;&s;ur'd me he had &s;een none. 'Tis not ea&s;ie, Madam, to gue&s;s my Pains. I remem|bred every word my Husband &s;poke, when he plung'd me into the River; how furiou&s;ly he look'd, and how his Eye-balls roll'd, that I was innocent, his Cruelty even beyond his Na|ture, that he had long de&s;ign'd my Death, and that Repentance had not immediately follow'd the act, &s;ince he had not &s;taid to afford me help when I &s;truggl'd in the Water. Yet after all I lov'd him, 'twas that tormented my Soul, and I could have dy'd that very moment, if the de|&s;ire of evincing my Innocence had not o're-rul'd that of Life.</P>
<P>In the mean time I was not to be found at Court; <HI>Anthar&s;us</HI> indu&s;triou&s;ly gave out, that <HI>Valentio</HI> had murder'd his Wife; and the King, who thought it an effect of ambition, and a de|&s;ign to make way for his Marriage with <HI>Alme|ria,</HI> ea&s;ily believ'd what was &s;aid, and gave im|mediate orders for his clo&s;e Confinement. Now carele&s;s of Life and Honour, (&s;ince by his own Hands he had de&s;troy'd what his Soul yet doated on) frankly confe&s;s'd the Crime laid to his charge, and tho' the Queen, the Prince&s;s, and &s;orrowful <HI>Reduan</HI> us'd their intere&s;t with <HI>Pharnaces&punc;</HI> he was neverthele&s;s brought to his Tryal, and Con|demn'd to lo&s;e his Head at his own Gate. The fal&s;e <HI>Meli&s;&s;a</HI> did not yet grieve for what &s;he had done, and urg'd <HI>Anthar&s;us</HI> to the performance of his promi&s;e. The proud Youth was &s;tartled
<PB N="166" REF="129"> with the propo&s;al, and con&s;idering the va&s;t di|&s;tance between a Prince&s;s and a &s;erving Maid, he &s;how'd her not a few &s;igns of contempt. She ob|&s;erv'd this, and to hector him into Compliance and good Nature, alledg'd the &s;ervice &s;he had done him, his Vows, and the opportunity &s;he had to render him infamous by a full di&s;cove|ry. He, who fear'd nothing more, and who &s;crupl'd not to add one Crime to another, run her again&s;t the Table with his Sword, and &s;o left her, pleas'd by a greater mi&s;chief to conceal a le&s;&s;er. <HI>Meli&s;&s;a</HI> (now mortally wounded) faintly call'd for a&s;&s;i&s;tance; and <HI>Re|duan</HI> with &s;everal Officers entering, &s;he confe&s;t her guilt, told them <HI>Anthar&s;us</HI> had us'd her thus for fear of a di&s;covery, begg'd my Hus|band's Pardon, (tho ab&s;ent) and &s;oon after dy'd. I had &s;ent the poor Shepherd every day to Court, where (his Wife being a Nur&s;e) he got certain information of all that pa&s;t; and I was acquainted with this Accident, almo&s;t as &s;oon as it happened. Then it was I went to &s;ee <HI>Valentio&mdash;</HI>Pardon, Madam, this too conci&s;e way of relating my Story; but the remembrance of that Joy he &s;how'd, when he knew me alive, adds to my pre&s;ent pain, and makes me more &s;en&s;ible of my lo&s;s. Be&s;ides, I find the kind Si&s;ter extends her welcome Arm to cut my thread of Life. I have no more time than &s;erves to inform you; <HI>Anthar&s;us</HI> fled, My Husband was &s;et at Liberty. We left <HI>Peru-alta</HI> as &s;oon as po&s;&s;ible, and de&s;igning to vi&s;it <HI>Fabria</HI> in our return to <HI>Merintha,</HI> that &s;torm aro&s;e when we were upon the Coa&s;t, which
<PB N="167" REF="129"> robb'd me of my Son and Husband.&mdash;Oh <HI>Valentio!&mdash;</HI>I come!&mdash;now I'm&mdash;happy.&mdash;</P>
<P>This &s;aid, &s;he immediately dy'd, and one Mo|ment fini&s;h'd her &s;tory, and her unfortunate Life. The Duke and Dutche&s;s were &s;orry for her Death, and in a few days &s;he was laid in the &s;ame Grave with her <HI>Valentio. Manderina</HI> had waited upon her too when alive, and during that &s;mall &s;pace of time, we renew'd our An|cient Friend&s;hip; &s;he ask'd me concerning my Brother, and wi&s;h'd him &s;ucce&s;s at <HI>Coloa;</HI> I wi&s;h'd her happine&s;s, but not in the Arms of <HI>Martius,</HI> and &s;he (not inclin'd that way &s;o much as <HI>I</HI> had &s;u&s;pected) &s;mil'd, and &s;aid, he de&s;erv'd my Love but not hers; to me he &s;how'd him&s;elf a Pri&s;oner, but to her a Ro|ver; and one whom no Beauty could fix, or Charms confine. <HI>Artaxus</HI> inform'd me by his Letters, that <HI>Indoretta</HI> &s;till prov'd kind, that <HI>Fernanthus</HI> Duke of <HI>Meroa</HI> (a mad piece of Quality) was his dang'rous Rival, becau&s;e a&s;|&s;i&s;ted with <HI>Mangroa</HI>'s Authority, that he was oblig'd to live too incognito, and did not yet know when he would return.&mdash;Now, my dear <HI>Timandra,</HI> my Story draws towards a fatal Period, my Misfortunes exceed yours, and my Ruine was compleated by envious De&s;tiny, in le&s;s than twenty days after the death of unfortu|nate <HI>Delia.</HI></P>
<P>My Welcome Lover had come to &s;ee me at the u&s;ual hour, and after &s;ome time &s;pent in my
<PB N="168" REF="130"> Company de&s;cended again into the Garden. <HI>Bonzeda</HI> it &s;eems waited there with a de&s;ign to &s;erenade me, and approach'd the Window ju&s;t as <HI>Martius</HI> was upon the foot of his &s;upple Stairs. The Youth finding him&s;elf &s;urpris'd, and not knowing their intention, or whom they were, drew his Sword, and laid the unwary Count dead at his feet. <HI>Xen&s;a</HI> (who was not yet a&s;leep, and too &s;oon heard the noi&s;e) came run|ning down the back Stairs; but not examining the Party or the Cau&s;e, he cho&s;e the weake&s;t &s;ide, and was kill'd by <HI>Bonzeda</HI>'s Servants, e're he had well enter'd the Garden. Poor <HI>Martius</HI> &s;till defended him&s;elf, and the back door be|ing &s;uddenly broke open, a Cavalier ru&s;h'd in to his a&s;&s;i&s;tance. The cla&s;hing of the Swords, with the confus'd Shrieks and Oaths of tho&s;e engag'd, awak'd both Families, and now a bloody Combat commenc'd (or rather was renw'd) the Count's Servants fought to revenge their Ma&s;ter's full, and my Lover for his Liberty. At la&s;t he was a Conquerour, and the Enemy fled. 'Twas then he had lei&s;ure to thank the Stranger for his a&s;&s;i&s;tance. Dur|ing this bloody Scene, <HI>I</HI> had &s;till &s;lept, and it &s;eems my kind Lover, (more cautious for my Reputation th<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter">n my &s;elf) had left me in that condition, chu&s;ing rather to leave me without a word at parting than run the ri&s;que of a di&s;covery by his &s;tay. However, I awak'd ju&s;t as they enter'd my Chamber, and &s;eeing <HI>Martius</HI> and my Brother (for 'twas he that had a&s;&s;i&s;ted him) cover'd with blood, I leapt from the Bed, ask'd the Cau&s;e, and almo&s;t rav'd
<PB N="169" REF="130"> with the &s;udden fright. My Lover (&s;till an|xious for me) would have conceal'd the truth, till he had prepar'd my mind for the &s;hock; but <HI>Artaxus</HI> in few words inform'd me of all, and added that <HI>Ericis</HI> had &s;een him in <HI>Coloa;</HI> that &s;he acquainted <HI>Meroa</HI> with it, who &s;oon after &s;ent him a Challenge, that he fought him, and had the fortune to kill him, that he had po&s;ted home with a de&s;ign to provide him&s;elf with Mony, and to &s;ettle his affairs; that as he arriv'd, he heard the cla&s;hing of Swords in the Garden, and forc'd the Door from off its hinges, to give relief to tho&s;e oppre&s;s'd. Madam, you may paint my griefs from your own: And tho' the lo&s;s of Con|&s;tant <HI>Adra&s;tus,</HI> exceeded that of a Father, yet to remove the inequality, I &s;aw my Brother and my Lover oblig'd to abandon <HI>Fabria.</HI> How|ever to make my mi&s;ery truly equal to your own, I was robb'd of <HI>Martius</HI> and <HI>Artaxus</HI> too. For they had not been gone &s;ix Months, (during which time, I receiv'd many Letters from them) when <HI>I</HI> was inform'd of both their deaths; the occa&s;ion of which take in few words.</P>
<P>They had fled into the Province of <HI>Cathinna,</HI> where wearied with &s;o long an ab&s;ence from tho&s;e they lov'd, they at la&s;t re&s;olv'd upon a Jour|ney home. By the way they lodg'd in a &s;mall Village, where (not finding conveniences for lying together as they us'd to do) they cho&s;e their re&s;pective <GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="MURP" EXTENT="1 letter">nns. At Night my Lover's Ho&s;t, di&s;cours'd the &s;tory of <HI>Xen&s;a</HI>'s and <HI>Bonze|da</HI>'s death, and how young <HI>Mangroa</HI> had by his flight confe&s;s'd him&s;elf guilty of the Murder.
<PB N="170" REF="131"> <HI>Martius</HI> was very much &s;urpris'd with the Rela|tion, and &s;carce thought him&s;elf &s;afe; but being al|ways of an invincible courage, the&s;e thoughts &s;oon fled, and he retir'd to his Chamber. My Brother's fortune was almo&s;t the &s;ame; for his Ho&s;te&s;s &s;pent mo&s;t of the Night on his Adventure concerning <HI>Fernanthus;</HI> and being at Supper with him, &s;he &s;aid to her Husband, This Gen|tleman (looking on my Brother) very much re|&s;embles Young <HI>Xen&s;a;</HI> if he is the &s;ame Fame paints him among&s;t us. <HI>Artaxus</HI> &s;mil'd, and &s;oon after went to bed, where (wearied with his Journey) he fell a&s;leep, and dreamt no more of what had pa&s;t. About midnight the Hou&s;e was &s;urrounded with Arm'd men, their leader crying, guard the Doors, and &s;ecure the Murderer. It &s;eems, Madam, a High-Way Man, who had robb'd, and afterwards kill'd a Gentleman, ten Miles from that place, had come to the &s;ame Inn that Evening, but not known to be &s;uch, he had pay'd his reckoning and pur&s;u'd another Road. The now Duke of <HI>Xen&s;a</HI> &s;urpris'd with the &s;udden noi&s;e, &s;tarted from the Bed, and laid hold of his Sword, re&s;olv'd either to purcha&s;e li|berty, or fall in the attempt. In the mean time <HI>Martius</HI> could find no re&s;t, he dreamt of &s;ome coming danger, yet knew not what it was, and fear'd my Brother's &s;afety more than his own. At la&s;t hearing a noi&s;e in the Streets, he call'd his watchful Ho&s;t; and enquir'd into the cau&s;e. He &s;oon inform'd him, and the Youth (judging my Brother betray'd) half dre&s;t, and Arm'd on|ly with his Sword, run to his a&s;&s;i&s;tance, and came iu&s;t as <HI>Artaxus</HI> had engag'd with the furious
<PB N="171" REF="131"> Mobb, who, by his re&s;i&s;tance, and de&s;perate en|deavour to e&s;cape, ea&s;ily believ'd him the Robber, and us'd their utmo&s;t force to repel his. Young <HI>Mangroa</HI> no &s;ooner arriv'd, than he made his way through the Rabble, and calling aloud for <HI>Artaxus,</HI> at la&s;t reach'd him. <HI>Xen&s;a</HI> hearing his own name proclaim'd, concludes they cer|tainly knew him, and not di&s;cerning his Friend in the dark, or remembring his Voice in the hurry, he turn'd his Sword upon him, as his mo&s;t dangerous Enemy; becau&s;e next to his Per|&s;on. My Lover from his re&s;i&s;tance argu'd his own mi&s;take, and &s;ought to &s;ecure him&s;elf by the death of his Adver&s;ary.&mdash;Oh! Cru|el Heavens! they both fell, my Brother was kill'd by my Lover, and <HI>Artaxus</HI> robb'd me of <HI>Martius.&mdash;</HI>Judge of my &s;orrow by my misfortune, for I'm per&s;waded, Madam, no lo&s;s ever equall'd mine. The Dutche&s;s dy'd with &s;udden grief. The con&s;tant <HI>Indoretta</HI> poy&s;on'd her &s;elf, and the kind <HI>Manderina</HI> langui&s;h'd a few Months, and then fled into the other World. <HI>I</HI> had then retir'd from pomp and noi&s;e, and &s;pent the remainder of my Years in Devotions, if my Friends had not over-per&s;waded me to the Contrary, and with cunning Arguments had not juggl'd me into a love of Liberty, and aver&s;ion to a reclu&s;e Mona&s;tick Life. However, in not abandoning the World, I had the Happine&s;s of your acquaintance, for you came to my Hou&s;e, Madam, two Years after this Tragedy had been Acted.&mdash;Excu&s;e me if I have not Writ my Letter with that Art you &s;how in yours, or if <HI>I</HI> have dwelt too long upon the &s;tory of un|happy
<PB N="172" REF="132"> <HI>Delia,</HI> think 'twas my de&s;ign to divert you from too &s;erious thoughts.&mdash;I'm glad my Cou&s;in the Abbe&s;s is your Friend; and am,</P>
</DIV2>
<CLOSER><SIGNED><HI>Your,</HI> &amp;c. Timandra.</SIGNED></CLOSER>
<TRAILER>FINIS.</TRAILER>
<PB REF="132">
</DIV1>
</BODY>
</TEXT>
</GROUP>
</TEXT>
</EEBO>
</ETS>
