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<DATE>2014-06-25</DATE>
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<NAME>Olivia Bottum</NAME>
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<PB REF="1">
<PB REF="1">
<P>THE Cimmerian MATRON, To which is added, THE <HI>Mysteries</HI> and <HI>Miracles</HI> OF LOVE.</P>
<P>By <HI>P. M.</HI> Gent.</P>
<Q><L>Qui cavet, ne decipiatur; vix cavet, etiam cum cavet:</L>
<L>Etiam cum cavi&s;&s;e ratus e&s;t, is cautor captus e&s;t.</L>
<BIBL><HI>Plautus.</HI></BIBL></Q>
<P>In the <HI>SAVOY:</HI> Printed for <HI>Henry Herringman</HI> at the Sign of the <HI>Anchor</HI> in the Lower-walk of the <HI>New-Exchange.</HI> 1668.</P>
</DIV1>
<DIV1 TYPE="letter">
<PB REF="2">
<PB REF="2">
<HEAD>TO THE AUTHOR OF THE <HI>Ephe&s;ian Matron.</HI></HEAD>
<OPENER><SALUTE>My deare&s;t Friend,</SALUTE></OPENER>
<P>_YOu can be, I perceive, both highly <HI>obliging,</HI> and no le&s;s <HI>&s;evere</HI> to one and the &s;ame <HI>Per|&s;on,</HI> in one and the &s;ame <HI>act.</HI> When you were plea&s;'d la&s;t Summer, to &s;end me your <HI>EPHESIAN MATRON,</HI> with &s;trict Command, that I &s;hould entertain her, as jealous <HI>Italians</HI> do their Mi&s;tre&s;&s;es, mew her up in my Cabinet, from &s;ight of the whole world: You &s;ent a <HI>Pre&s;ent</HI>
<PB REF="3"> (I acknowledge) than which nothing could have been more gratefull; but you conjoyn'd therewith a <HI>Re&s;triction,</HI> than which none could have been more rigo|rous. You gave me good Wine, and then gelt it with Water; as the <HI>Spani&s;h</HI> &s;ay|ing is of &s;uch, <HI>who de&s;troy their own benefits.</HI> Like an imperious Lord, you would have had the Lady my Tenent at your will: and after you had made me a free Grant, you in&s;erted a <HI>Provi&s;o</HI> to ren|der it void. In a word, your Injunction to me, to restrain her from the conver&s;a|tion of all others, was not only tyrannical and inhumane in it &s;elf (for, as our great Morali&s;t, and beloved Author, <HI>Chaucer,</HI> in the Wife of <HI>Bath's</HI> Prologue.</P>
<Q><L>He is to great a Niggarde, that will werne</L>
<L>A man, to light a candle at his Lanterne;)</L></Q>
<P>but al&s;o incon&s;i&s;tent with both the good|ne&s;s of her nature, and the freedome of my enjoying the plea&s;ures thereof. For,</P>
<P>Fir&s;t, the love of <HI>Liberty</HI> is no le&s;s natural to the &s;oft and delicate Sex, than
<PB REF="3"> to our harder and martial one: nor doth our <HI>Magna Charta</HI> contain more Privi|ledges and Franchi&s;es, than theirs. Nay, their Beauty, as being the Ofspring of <HI>light</HI> (for <HI>Plato</HI> defined it to be the <HI>lu&s;ter</HI> of the Soul re&s;plendent in the bodie) ju&s;ti|fies their abhorrence of confinement. Hence no Law-givers have ever been &s;o unrea|&s;onable, &s;o unhumane, as to abridg Wo|men of their native priviledge of a free and open conver&s;ation with Men. And we &s;hould live but uncomfortably at be&s;t, if we denied them, e&s;pecially while they are young, hand&s;om, and well dre&s;s'd, to &s;hew them&s;elves abroad in company, and appear in frequent a&s;&s;emblies. Be&s;ides, as the &s;ame Wife of <HI>Bathe</HI> &s;peaks in the name of her whole &s;ex,
<Q><L>We love no man, that taketh keepe or charge</L>
<L>Where that we go; we woll be at our large.</L></Q> Nor is it le&s;s difficult to put re&s;traint up|on a Lady of her &s;prightly and debonaire humor, than to impri&s;on the Sun-beams, catch the winds in a net, or impound an
<PB REF="4"> Eagle (as the Aldermen of <HI>Gotham</HI> did a Cuckow) within a hedge: and he who is &s;o well conceited of his vigilancy, or pow|er, as to attempt it; is capable of being per&s;waded al&s;o, that he can make Gla&s;s malleable, &s;quare the Circle, prevent the decay of beauty by Time, or repair it by the oyl of <HI>Talk.</HI> Novelty is a Load&s;tone to us all, e&s;pecially to Women, who na|turally are &s;o much given to <HI>Curio&s;ity,</HI> that &s;ome <HI>Divines</HI> have held, our Great Grandmother <HI>Eve</HI> had never longed for the forbidden fruit, had it not been <HI>for|bidden.</HI> Hence that Proverb, <HI>where Jealou&s;ie is Jaylor, mo&s;t break pri&s;on,</HI> which was litterally verified in the Wife of the Goaler, in <HI>Ari&s;tenatus;</HI> who though &s;trictly watch'd and lock'd up by the jealous Coxcomb her Husband, yet found an opportunity to be <HI>loo&s;e,</HI> while &s;he was in &s;trong hold.</P>
<Q><L>Qui&s;quis vectibus &amp; &s;eris</L>
<L>Cu&s;todit uxorem, cum &s;ibi &s;apiens videatur</L>
<L>Stultus e&s;t.</L></Q>
<PB REF="4">
<P>Again, you were not ignorant, that I am of &s;o <HI>Charitable</HI> and Communicative a <HI>Genius,</HI> that I hate to eat my mor&s;els alone, though they be never &s;o &s;weet and delicious. One of my Maxims is, <HI>quo communius, eo &s;uavius;</HI> the more de|lectable I find any thing to my &s;elf, the more de&s;irous I am to impart the &s;ame to my Friends and Acquaintance: it being not the lea&s;t of my plea&s;ures, to accom|modate and plea&s;e others.</P>
<P>Knowing, therefore, on one part, that the <HI>Ephe&s;ian</HI> was amiable, tempting and witty; and on the other, that I am no Monopolizer of &s;uch Commodities, but of a publick &s;pirit and free-hearted: You ought either not to have put her into my hands, or not to have expected I &s;hould re&s;train her from &s;hewing her &s;elf to the world. Nor am I to be &s;o much bla|med, for permitting her to go to <HI>London,</HI> and appear openly in the <HI>New Ex|change:</HI> as you are for imagining, that &s;o fair and polite a Creature de&s;erved
<PB REF="5"> &s;uch har&s;h u&s;age, as to be alwayes con|fined with me in an ob&s;cure Country Village among Fanatick Weavers and Cloth-workers.</P>
<P>But, <HI>you'll</HI> &s;ay (I pre&s;ume) as poor <HI>Malbecco</HI> &s;aid in excu&s;e of his jealou&s;ie; that you grounded your command of Se|cre&s;ie, not upon di&s;tru&s;t of the <HI>Matrons</HI> virtue, but upon fear of having your <HI>judgment</HI> and <HI>honour</HI> brought into que&s;tion, if the cen&s;orious World &s;hould once come to know, who it was, that brought her from <HI>Rome,</HI> and furni&s;hed her with &s;o hand&s;ome an <HI>Engli&s;h</HI> dre&s;s. And this &s;eems a good Caution; but was it a prudent one? What cau&s;e had you for it? More than one. Well then, I gue&s;s at your thoughts. You feard, lest &s;ome men might be of &s;o &s;evere a brow, as to think you had forgotten the <HI>Gra|vity</HI> required in a <HI>Philo&s;opher,</HI> and one of your ripe years, while you in|dulged your Pen, the liberty of touching
<PB REF="5"> upon an <HI>Amorous</HI> Argument, though without violation of Mode&s;ty, and only for diverti&s;ement. You feard, le&s;t others, le&s;s acquainted with Books, might mi&s;take the Hi&s;tory for a <HI>Ficti|on;</HI> and you for the <HI>Author:</HI> and thereupon take occa&s;ion to di&s;credit both. You feard again, le&s;t others might per|vert the &s;en&s;e of your Text by a fal&s;e <HI>Comment,</HI> interpret what you inten|ded only for an innocent and facete <HI>Exerci&s;e</HI> of your <HI>Wit,</HI> to be a de&s;igne of Malice, a &s;tudied <HI>Satyr</HI> again&s;t <HI>Wo|men.</HI> The&s;e are all the Rea&s;ons I can imagine you could alleage again&s;t my ex|po&s;ing to publick view that good-natur'd <HI>Stranger.</HI></P>
<P>To let you &s;ee, then, how much you were deceived in the weight of the&s;e <HI>Objections,</HI> &s;ugge&s;ted to you by your fear of Detraction and Scandal; and withall briefly to Apologize for my own tran&s;gre&s;&s;ion, of your Command,
<PB REF="6"> in tran&s;mitting the <HI>Ephe&s;ian</HI> to the <HI>Pre&s;s</HI> (for, that I own to my act:) I find my &s;elf obliged to perpend them one by one in the ballance of Equity.</P>
<P>In the <HI>Fir&s;t</HI> place, you had no rea&s;on to think <HI>Love</HI> to be &s;o <HI>juvenile</HI> and &s;ooty an Argument, that you could not handle it without contracting stains upon your <HI>Reputation.</HI> For, that <HI>Erotic pa&s;&s;ion</HI> is allowed by all learned men to be a <HI>&s;pe|cies</HI> of <HI>Melancholy,</HI> and in that name your very <HI>Profe&s;&s;ion</HI> gave you a ju&s;t title to inquire into the origine, nature, cau&s;es, &s;ignes, &s;ymptomes, &amp;c. thereof. Again, you have the authority of no le&s;s man than <HI>Mar&s;ilius Ficinus (in praefat. ad Convivium Platonis) omnem Amo|rem hone&s;tum e&s;&s;e, &amp; bonum, omne&s;|que amore dignos, qui bene dicunt de amore;</HI> that all Love is hone&s;t and good, and all tho&s;e worthy to be loved, who &s;peak well of it. Nor need you &s;eek long for <HI>Pre&s;idents</HI> in the ca&s;e. Among <HI>An|tient Philo&s;ophers,</HI> you have <HI>Plato</HI>
<PB REF="6"> (<GAP DESC="foreign">) <HI>Xenophon (&s;ym|pos.) Theophra&s;tus</HI> (if we may believe <HI>Athenaeus, lib. 13. cap. 9.) Plutarch, Plotinus, Maximus Tyrius, Cadmus Mile&s;ius</HI> (who, as <HI>Langius,</HI> in <HI>lib. 1. Epi&s;t. 24.</HI> ob&s;erves out of <HI>Suidas,</HI> wrote no le&s;s than <HI>14.</HI> Books of Love) and <HI>A|vicenna.</HI> Among the <HI>Moderns, Picus Mirandula, Marius Aequicola,</HI> both in Italian; <HI>Kornmannus de linea Amoris lib. 3. Petrus Godefridus,</HI> in as many; and <HI>P. Haedus.</HI> Of <HI>Phy&s;icians,</HI> you have <HI>Arnoldus de villa nova, Valleriola, Aelian Montaltus,</HI> in their Treati&s;es of Melancholy; <HI>Vale&s;cus de Taranta, Gor|donius, Hercules de Saxonia, Savanaro|la, Langius, Sennertus, Tulpius:</HI> &s;ome of whom have written expre&s;s Tractates of the nature and extent of <HI>Love-melan|cholly;</HI> and others rare ob&s;ervations of the &s;trange and prodigious <HI>Effects</HI> of the &s;ame. Yea, of <HI>Divines</HI> them&s;elves you have Examples not a few; of which I &s;hall put you in mind only of two, as mo&s;t
<PB REF="7"> memorable. One is that of <HI>Heliodorus,</HI> a reverend Bi&s;hop, who penned the famous Love-&s;tory of <HI>Theagines</HI> and <HI>Chariclea:</HI> and when &s;ome &s;owr <HI>Cato's</HI> of that time reprehended him for it, cho&s;e rather (&s;aith <HI>Nicephorus, Hi&s;tor. lib. 12. cap. 34.</HI>) to leave his Bi&s;hoprick, than di&s;a|vow his Book. The other is of <HI>Aeneas Silvius,</HI> an ancient Theologue; who after the <HI>40.</HI> year of his age, as him&s;elf confe&s;&s;eth <HI>(in praefat. lib. 1.)</HI> compo&s;ed that wan|ton Roman of <HI>Euryalus and Lucrecia.</HI> To the&s;e I could have added other two eminent Divines of our own time and Nation, <HI>Mr Burton,</HI> who wrote copiou&s;|ly and learnedly of <HI>Love-melancholy;</HI> and <HI>Dr. Tailer,</HI> who thought it no dimi|nution of his Gravity, to recount (if <HI>I</HI> remember well, in his Art of <HI>living and dying virtuou&s;ly</HI>) the very &s;ame &s;tory of the <HI>Ephe&s;ian Matron,</HI> as an in&s;tance of Human Frailty. Nay, I might alleage the Loves of <HI>Jacob</HI> and <HI>Rachel,</HI> of <HI>Sichem</HI> and <HI>Dinah, Juda</HI> and <HI>Thamar, Samp|&s;on</HI>
<PB REF="7"> and <HI>Dalilah, David</HI> and <HI>Ber&s;heba, Ammon</HI> and his <HI>Si&s;ter, Salomon</HI> and <HI>Pharaoh</HI>'s Daughter, &amp;c. all mentioned in <HI>Sacred Writ.</HI> But I have been al|ready too prolix in an Argument &s;o com|mon and obvious. To conclude this fir&s;t part, therefore, of your Justification; if it were no di&s;honour to the&s;e grave Au|thors to have treated of Love; why &s;hould you, a Natural Philo&s;opher, and yet no old man, apprehend it &s;o dangerous a thing to your good name, to let the world know, you had be&s;towed a few va|cant hours, for your diverti&s;ement, upon the &s;ame Subject? Had you been at that time twice as old as you are now, I, for my part, &s;hould have liked your Chara|cters of Love &s;o much the better: be|cau&s;e (as the Lord <HI>John</HI> an&s;wered the <HI>Queen</HI> in that Italian <HI>Guazzo, lib. 4. de civili conver&s;atione</HI>) a grave and di&s;creet Per&s;on is fitte&s;t to di&s;cour&s;e of Amorous adventures, as having more experience, and more &s;taid judgment,
<PB REF="8"> to make whole&s;ome and u&s;efull Re|marques thereupon, for the advice and caution of greener heads.</P>
<P>As for your <HI>Second</HI> imaginary <HI>Obje|ction,</HI> viz. that the <HI>Ephe&s;ian</HI> might be thought the <HI>Minerva</HI> of your Brain, your <HI>natural</HI> Daughter, when indeed &s;he was only your <HI>adopted</HI> one: certainly, my <HI>dear Friend,</HI> you had laid a&s;ide your con&s;idering-cap, when you &s;ufferd &s;o light a conceipt to make any the lea&s;t impre&s;|&s;ion upon your skull. For, every Scholar very well knows, that the Lady being the Daughter of <HI>Petronius Arbiter,</HI> in his <HI>Satyricon,</HI> cannot therefore be le&s;s then &s;ixteen hundred years elder than you. Whether &s;he was a <HI>True,</HI> or a <HI>Roman|tique</HI> one; the <HI>Author</HI> having kept that in his brea&s;t, I am not able, after &s;o long an interval of time, to determine. But thus much I can a&s;&s;ure tho&s;e, who doubt of her <HI>Reality;</HI> that <HI>Flavianus, apud Salisberien&s;em,</HI> affirms that the Sto|ry is a true one, and that the Woman
<PB REF="8"> &s;uffer'd death for her parricidal wiched|ne&s;s and adultery, as he (in my judgment too &s;everely) &s;tiles her fault. This <HI>Paren|the&s;is</HI> begets a <HI>Digre&s;&s;ion.</HI></P>
<P>I &s;ay, too <HI>&s;everely;</HI> becau&s;e her Hu&s;|band being newly dead of &s;ome violent &s;ickne&s;s, and &s;he then a Widow, when &s;he &s;o graciou&s;ly obliged the Souldier: where was either her <HI>Parricide,</HI> or her <HI>Adultery?</HI> I &s;hould think, that either the <HI>Ephe&s;ian</HI> Laws again&s;t removing the dead out of their Sepulchres, were inhumanely &s;trict; if her Judges were thereby obliged to ac|count that fact in her equivalent to Par|ricide: or that <HI>Flavianus</HI> had been mi&s;|informed in that part of the Story. For, as to the other part of her Charge, her &s;o facil and &s;uddain giving her &s;elf up to the Souldiers embraces; had the Laws of the place made it capital (which I be|lieve they did not, becau&s;e I never read of any Laws &s;o extremely rigorous, in any of the Cities of <HI>Greece</HI>) yet &s;he had wit enough to evade them, by pretending
<PB REF="9"> <HI>Marriage</HI> to her new Lover. Here I have an opportunity to ob&s;erve to you, that though that excellent Divine, new|ly quoted, <HI>Dr. Tayler,</HI> was plea&s;ed &s;o to &s;weeten and extenuate the Levity of the Woman, as to tell his Readers, that &s;he <HI>married</HI> the Souldier in the Vault, yet I cannot a&s;&s;ent to him in that particular. The words of <HI>Petronius,</HI> indeed, are the&s;e; <HI>Jacuerunt,</HI> (or, as the be&s;t <HI>Cri|tiques</HI> read, <HI>latuerunt) una, non tan|tum illa nocte, qua nuptias fecerunt, &s;ed po&s;tero etiam ac tertio die, &amp;c.</HI> But all who are conver&s;ant in the Latin tongue, well under&s;tand, that <HI>nubere</HI> &amp; <HI>nuptias facere,</HI> is by a mode&s;t <HI>Meta|lep&s;is</HI> u&s;ed, by the ancient Romans, <HI>pro</HI> <GAP DESC="foreign">; as <HI>Plautus</HI> u&s;ed it, <HI>P&s;eud. act. 1. &s;cen. 3.</HI> and as <HI>Vo&s;cius</HI> (in <HI>Etymo|logic.</HI>) judiciou&s;ly holds <HI>Petronius</HI> to have u&s;ed it in this place. Which I occa&s;ionally touched upon, not as a de|fect of Judgment, but an exce&s;s of Cha|rity in that learned and pious Divine;
<PB REF="9"> who was willing to hone&s;t the poor wo|mans lap&s;e, by an interpretation to her mo&s;t favorable, and to her Sex lea&s;t of|fen&s;ive.</P>
<P>To return to my tracing of the Story it &s;elf. <HI>Jan. Dou&s;a,</HI> in his Notes upon this Chapter of <HI>Petronius,</HI> tells us, that the very &s;ame Novel was put into elegant Latin ver&s;e by one <HI>Romulus,</HI> an antique <HI>Grammarian;</HI> that long after that it was copiou&s;ly written in the <HI>German</HI> language, and thence tran&s;lated again into Latin, by <HI>Fr. Modius,</HI> a Civilian, who changed the per&s;ons, new-molded the Story, and publi&s;h'd it under this Title: <HI>Ludus &s;eptem &s;apientum de A&s;trei, re|gii adole&s;centis, educatione, periculis, &amp;c.</HI> and that about the year of Chri&s;t <HI>M.CC.</HI> it was rendred in French Rithm by <HI>Hebertus,</HI> a Clerk. To the&s;e I could have added others al&s;o, through who&s;e hands our Matron pa&s;&s;ed, had I not wan|ted the late&s;t Edition of <HI>Petronius</HI> by <HI>Gabbema,</HI> who has been diligent in
<PB REF="10"> deriving her pedigree; and to whom I am compelled to refer you. Mean while it is well known even to the vulgar of our Nation, that &s;he hath found a place in the Book of the <HI>Seven Wi&s;e Ma&s;ters;</HI> and is the chief Per&s;on in the Comedy called the <HI>Widdows Tears.</HI> Now it be|ing thus credible, that the <HI>Ephe&s;ian</HI> was no <HI>Roman,</HI> no Fairy or Child of Fancy, but a very <HI>Woman</HI> of fle&s;h and blood, and notoriou&s;ly manife&s;t, that &s;he hath been Favorite to many learned and grave Men, who have handed her down (<GAP DESC="foreign">) from Nation to Nati|on, from age to age, keeping the torch of her beauty unextinct, and giving her a perpetual Youth by the <HI>Nepenthe</HI> of their immortal Penns: whoever &s;hall take her for <HI>Your</HI> Daughter (I do not &s;ay <HI>Mi|&s;tre&s;s</HI>) will di&s;cover ignorance enough to render him the &s;ubject of &s;corn and diri&s;ion; nor will he more ea&s;ily find be|lief among the &s;ober and judicious, than if he &s;hould report you to be the <HI>Souldier,</HI>
<PB REF="10"> who cured her of her <HI>Grief,</HI> by ea&s;ing him&s;elf of his <HI>Love.</HI></P>
<P>As for the <HI>La&s;t</HI> Objection, <HI>your fear to fall into the di&s;plea&s;ure of the La|dies,</HI> who being naturally jealous of the honour of their &s;ex, po&s;&s;ibly might &s;u|&s;pect the Book to be at be&s;t but a well-di&s;|guis'd <HI>Satyr</HI> again&s;t <HI>them:</HI> I conceive that to be already &s;ufficiently prevented, partly by what you have, in many places of the Book it &s;elf, &s;aid in ho|nour of their Virtues; partly by my precedent &s;olutions of your two for|mer Objections. For, &s;ince I have made it apparent, that you are not the fir&s;t Philo&s;opher who hath exerci|&s;ed his wit and pen in con&s;ideration of their admirable power of <HI>Love,</HI> nor Author of Story of that Amorous Ad|venture of the <HI>Ephe&s;ian,</HI> which <HI>Ladies</HI> are mo&s;t likely to condemn: I &s;ee no rea|&s;on, why any Woman &s;hould take offence, for that you have in cha&s;t and unblame|able language illustrated the <HI>nature</HI> of
<PB REF="11"> the <HI>Former,</HI> by ob&s;erving the wonder|ful <HI>Accidents</HI> of the <HI>Later.</HI> All cau|&s;es are be&s;t known by their effects: and in all Arguments, &s;imple <HI>Di&s;cour&s;es,</HI> without <HI>Examples,</HI> are flat and unper|&s;ua&s;ive. To me, therefore, it &s;eems ra|ther a virtue, than a fault in you, that having de&s;igned to examine the forces of that &V;niver&s;al Tyrann, <HI>Love;</HI> You made choice of a &s;hort and memorable Story, in which the &s;ame were clearly <HI>Exemplified.</HI> Be&s;ides this, I can al|leage in your defence, what the learned <HI>Mycillus,</HI> being reprehended for tran&s;|lating &s;ome of the profaner <HI>Dialogues</HI> of <HI>Lucian,</HI> pleaded in his own; <HI>Operi &s;u&s;cepto &s;erviendum fuit,</HI> you were obli|ged to comply with your Province, and to pro&s;ecute the work you had taken in hand.</P>
<P>If it be farther urged, that <HI>you bring in the Souldier mo&s;t bitterly railing upon, and bla&s;pheming the whole Sex,</HI> I an|&s;wer, that you could not with decency a|void it. Becau&s;e you were bound in your
<PB REF="11"> Narration to introduce him in that di&s;tem|per of Pa&s;&s;ion, into which his misfortune and danger had tran&s;ported him. Other|wi&s;e you could not con&s;erve the <GAP DESC="foreign"> (as <HI>Ari&s;totle</HI> properly calls it) the <HI>De|corum</HI> of either his Per&s;on, or his pa&s;&s;ion, or the Occa&s;ion of it. For, he is delivered to have been no accompli&s;h'd and polite <HI>Courtier,</HI> nor unpa&s;&s;ionate <HI>Stoic,</HI> but a blunt and <HI>Choleric</HI> Fellow, a <HI>Common Souldier:</HI> and being inraged at the &s;teal|ing away of the Malefactors Carca&s;s from the Gibbet, and reflecting upon the obli|ging Lady (who, as you well ob&s;erve, de|&s;erved more re&s;pect and gratitude at his hands) as the chief cau&s;e of his negli|gence: it is highly probable, that he brake forth into dire imprecations &amp; reproach|es, &s;uch perhaps as tho&s;e, in which you imagine him to have vented his furious re&s;entments. In <HI>Poets,</HI> all acknowledg it an <HI>Excellency;</HI> to accommodate every per&s;on whom they introduce, with language and action agreable to his Character &amp; Pa&s;&s;ion:
<PB REF="12"> why then &s;hould the &s;ame be a <HI>Vice</HI> in you, where you were obliged to repre|&s;ent a per&s;on almo&s;t di&s;tracted with a &s;yndrome of Remor&s;e, Fear, Anger and De&s;pair; the lea&s;t of which was violent enough to make him forget his late obligations to his Mi&s;tre&s;s, and the ci|vility due to her Sex? So that it may with more ju&s;tice be &s;aid, that the Soul|dier put that invective <HI>Harangue</HI> into your Pen; than it can, that you put it into his mouth. In fine, I dare be &s;o far your <HI>Compurgator</HI> in the ca&s;e, as to &s;wear, that it went again&s;t your very &s;oul to be nece&s;&s;itated, by the condition of your Theme, to &s;ay any thing that tended to the di&s;paragement of the beautifull and delicate Sex: and how|ever you may &s;uffer by the prejudice of &s;ome <HI>Ladies,</HI> to whom your Per&s;on and Conver&s;ation are unknown; there are others, I am &s;ure, who will vindi|cate you from the infamy of a <HI>Woman-hater.</HI></P>
<PB REF="12">
<P>Now, <HI>my deare&s;t Friend,</HI> if what you have heard me &s;ay here, in way of a &s;hort Remon&s;trance of the <HI>Innocency</HI> and <HI>Candor</HI> of your <HI>Ephe&s;ian,</HI> be judged by you &s;ufficient to reconcile the Ladies to her, and my &s;elf to you, after my offence committed again&s;t both, in expo&s;ing her to publick cen&s;ure: truly I &s;hall think my &s;elf no le&s;s happy in being in&s;trumental to your <HI>vindication,</HI> than I have thought my &s;elf unhappy in being &s;o to your <HI>Scandal.</HI> If not, there is no way left for me to expiate my fault, but by in|volving my &s;elf al&s;o in the &s;ame danger, to which my exce&s;s of <HI>good-nature</HI> hath made you obnoxious. Having in &s;port thrown you into the river, and finding you unable to bear up again&s;t the impe|tuous torrent of <HI>Feminine prejudice,</HI> that is violent enough to over&s;et a Navy: I am re&s;olved to leap in after, and ei|ther &s;ave you from &s;inking, or peri&s;h with you. Well then, to let you &s;ee how far I dare to hazard my own fame, to pre&s;erve
<PB REF="13"> yours; behold a <HI>Second Matron,</HI> who&s;e Amorous Adventure very neerly re&s;em|bles that of the kind <HI>Ephe&s;ian.</HI> She in like manner falls into an <HI>Intrigue</HI> (as they now adays call it) with a <HI>Souldier,</HI> and at fir&s;t fight too: and encountring no &s;mall difficulty in the pur&s;uit of her love, is witty enough both to &s;urmount that, and conceal her &s;toln plea&s;ures, by a trick that pa&s;s'd for no le&s;s than a <HI>Miracle.</HI> Ha|ving found the <HI>Novel</HI> in the <HI>Comus &s;i|ve Phage&s;ipo&s;ia Cimmeria</HI> of that witty and erudite Noble Italian, <HI>Erycius Pu|teanus;</HI> and out of his elegant Latin tran&s;lated into plain Engli&s;h; I now bring it as a <HI>Handmaid</HI> to wait upon the <HI>Ephe&s;ian,</HI> at lea&s;t, if you think it worthy of that honour. And becau&s;e I would have this <HI>Cimmerian</HI> come as neer to the <HI>Ephe&s;ian</HI> in <HI>Habit and Equipage,</HI> as &s;he doth in <HI>Manners</HI> and <HI>Fortune;</HI> I have taken a little pains to dre&s;s her, as you did the other, like the Mi&s;tre&s;s of a <HI>Philo&s;opher.</HI> Finding it very undecent
<PB REF="13"> to interlace the Narration with Philo&s;o|phical Speculations, as you have done the former; becau&s;e her adventure ad|mits no pau&s;es or intervals, wherein the <HI>Reader</HI> ought to be diverted for <HI>Mode&s;ty</HI> &s;ake: I have been con&s;trained, therefore, to put all her <HI>Garniture</HI> in one place, at the end, where you will meet with it under the title of <HI>The My&s;teries and Miracles of Love.</HI> &para;</P>
<TRAILER><Q><L>Here endeth the Squiers Prologue,</L>
<L>and here after followeth his Tale.</L></Q></TRAILER>
</DIV1>
</FRONT>
<BODY>
<DIV1 TYPE="part">
<PB REF="14">
<PB N="1" REF="14">
<HEAD>THE <HI>CIMMERIAN</HI> MATRON.</HEAD>
<P>_ON the Confines of <HI>Cim|meria,</HI> there, not long &s;ince lived a certain Gentlewoman, of &s;hape more exact than a Sta|tue formed by all the rules of <HI>Leon Batti&s;ta Alberti;</HI> of features and complexion more &s;weet and deli|cate then tho&s;e of <HI>Venus</HI> her &s;elf; of re|putation as clear and immaculate as <HI>Di|ana.</HI> Wife &s;he was to one, whom U&s;u|ry had made Rich, and Riches eminent; with whom &s;he enjoy'd all the plea|&s;ures of conjugal Love and Fidelity; not &s;o much as dreaming of any con|tent but in his indulgence and em|braces.</P>
<PB N="2" REF="15">
<P>But, ah! how mutable are humane Affections! how many faults doth time di&s;cover, which were before concealed! This Woman had but newly acquired the Fame of a cha&s;te and ob&s;equious Wife, when Lu&s;t &s;ucceeding into the place of hone&s;ty, wrought &s;o unhap|py a change in her, that now &s;he be|gan to nau&s;eate the whol&s;ome viands of the Marriage bed, and long for &s;trange and forbidden delicates; in&s;o|much, that her former humour of com|placency and fondne&s;s by degrees de|generated into a perfect abhorrence of the Per&s;on and Company of her mo&s;t uxorious Husband.</P>
<P>For, having by accident ca&s;t her eyes upon a young <HI>Soldier,</HI> naked, and bath|ing him&s;elf; Love entred into them to|gether with the image of the tempting object. <HI>[nudus membra Pyracmon&mdash;</HI>
<Q><L>She &s;aw the man, that he was like a Knight,</L>
<L>And &s;uffi&s;aunt of per&s;on and of might,</L>
<L>And like to been a very Gentilman;</L>
<L>And well his words he be&s;et can,</L>
<L>And had a noble vi&s;age for the nones,</L>
<L>And formed well of brawne and of bones;</L>
<L>And after <HI>Venus</HI> had &s;oche fairene&s;s,</L>
<L>That no man might be halfe &s;o faire I ge&s;&s;e:</L>
<L>And well a Lord he feemed for to be.</L>
<L>And for he was a &s;tranger, &s;om what &s;he</L>
<PB N="3" REF="15">
<L>Liked him the bet; as God do bote,</L>
<L>To &s;ome folk often new thing is &s;ote,]</L></Q></P>
<P>Yet be not too &s;evere in condemn|ing the pa&s;&s;ion of a frail Woman, You, who know how &s;trong and quick a&s;&s;aults <HI>Cupid</HI> often makes upon Forts &s;o weak|ly man'd, and with what unre&s;i&s;table Artillery he is provided. Her <HI>Husband</HI> ob&s;erving a change in her, at fir&s;t ad|mired what &s;hould be the cau&s;e of her di&s;content, and coldne&s;s toward him; u&s;ing in the mean time all imaginable care&s;&s;es and endearments to &s;weeten her melancholly, and di&s;pel tho&s;e gloomy clouds that had overca&s;t her joys. After all his Court&s;hip and Arts of Kind|ne&s;s proving un&s;ucce&s;sful, he grew &s;u&s;pi|cious (what was indeed too true) that &s;he had removed her Affection from him, and fix'd it upon &s;ome other per|&s;on. For, though &s;he carefully conceal'd from him her flame, and often endea|vour'd to &s;uppre&s;s it, even with &s;howrs of tears, e&s;pecially when 'twas newly kindled: yet that, like wild-fire, raging the more by oppo&s;ition, and break|ing forth in fla&s;hes of di&s;content, &s;he was not able &s;o to hide it, but that he perceived her heart was &s;corch'd: Her melancholly had quite altered the
<PB N="4" REF="16"> graceful and charming Aire of her face, con&s;umed her &s;pirits, de&s;troyed the Ro&s;es in her cheeks, bedimm'd the Iu&s;tre of her &s;parkling eyes, and re|duced her to a dejected and langui&s;h|ing condition. To the&s;e &s;ymptoms you may add re&s;tle&s;s nights, broken di&s;cour&s;es, love of &s;olitude, &s;uddain &s;tartings, unwilling &s;ighs, and all other &s;igns, by which a wounded heart is forc|ed to betray it &s;elf. No wonder then, if the vigilant <HI>U&s;urer</HI> &s;oon became con|firmed in his jealou&s;ie; which yet he u&s;ed as much cunning to ob&s;cure from her, as &s;he had to conceal her pa&s;&s;ion from him. But Love is no le&s;s difficult to be re&s;i&s;ted, than to be di&s;gui&s;ed: and now our impatient <HI>Matron</HI> can no longer live without the help of her Gallant.</P>
<P>Having therefore &s;ome knowledge of a certain wi&s;e Woman of the &s;ame Town, one of the Grand-daughters of <HI>Pandarus,</HI> &s;uch as the <HI>French</HI> call <HI>Me&s;&s;a|geurs d' Amour,</HI> a <HI>Bawd</HI> of Quality, &s;he addre&s;&s;es to her, and without much dif|ficulty engages her to go Amba&s;&s;a|dre&s;s to the Man of Arms, and negoti|ate with him about a firm League of Love, and a private interview upon the fir&s;t fair opportunity. In this Treaty,
<PB N="5" REF="16"> there needed not much of Rhetorick on the part of this <HI>Oratrix,</HI> the Soldier, (who was indeed &s;o hand&s;ome and pro|per a Fellow, that <HI>Diana</HI> her &s;elf might without any di&s;paragement to her judgement, have preferred him to <HI>En|dymion;</HI> and wanted not wit enough to &s;erve him&s;elfe of &s;o advantagious an oc|ca&s;ion) accepting and a&s;&s;enting to the conditions propo&s;ed with all alacrity and gratitude imaginable. So that now no|thing was wanting to the mutual ratifi|cation of the amorous Ligue, but an opportunity for the two <HI>Princes</HI> (for, &s;uch their <HI>hopes</HI> had made them) inter|changeably to <HI>&s;ign</HI> and <HI>Seal,</HI> which the watchfulne&s;s of the jealous <HI>Husband</HI> made extreamly difficult: he making it his main bu&s;ine&s;s to ob&s;erve, not only all the motions of her feet, and whither &s;he went at any time, but tho&s;e al&s;o of her eies; &s;o that you would have thought the beatious <HI>Jo</HI> once again committed to the cu&s;tody of <HI>Argus.</HI></P>
<P>Among a thou&s;and other plots and &s;tratagems his troubled Imagination &s;ugge&s;ted to him, towards the di&s;cove|ry of what he equally fear'd and de&s;ir'd to know, he at la&s;t fixes upon this, as mo&s;t hopeful, to pretend a journey from
<PB N="6" REF="17"> home, and by an unexpected return to &s;urprize his wife; confident, by this artifice, he &s;hould at length arrive at the certain knowledge both of the nature and cau&s;e of her di&s;ea&s;e. According to this politick re&s;olution, he prepares for a long journey, and di&s;&s;embling a &s;ad valediction to his dear <HI>Fide&s;&s;a</HI> (who, you may believe, as truly counterfeited &s;orrow as him&s;elfe, and moi&s;tned her parting ki&s;&s;es with artificial tears) &s;ets forth early in the morning, in an hour long wi&s;h't for on both &s;ides, nor un|lucky to either.</P>
<P>No &s;ooner was the <HI>Husband</HI> gone, than the glad <HI>Wife</HI> thinking that now the propitious time drew near, when her de&s;ires &s;hould be crown'd with &s;olid plea&s;ures, and her imaginary embraces exchanged for real ones; &s;oon gave Commi&s;&s;ion to her <HI>Emi&s;&s;ary,</HI> who was the very buckle and thong of Venery, in&s;tantly to adverti&s;e her <HI>Paramore,</HI> that the Fe&s;tival of Love was come, and that the Husbands departure had open'd the door to their meeting with free|dom and &s;ecurity. This welcome me&s;|&s;age was as &s;peedily delivered as recei|ved, and an <HI>A&s;signation</HI> made, that im|mediately after the wearied Sun had
<PB N="7" REF="17"> re&s;igned his Empire in the upper He|mi&s;phere to Night, and mortals began to &s;upply his ab&s;ence with an artifical day of Candle-light; our valiant and well provided Lover &s;hould come to the back door of his <HI>Saints</HI> Chappel, by which he &s;hould be introduced and con|ducted into the <HI>Chancel,</HI> and thence to the <HI>Altar,</HI> upon which he was to offer up his Sacrifice and pay his vows; and that done, return to his quarters, with|out the lea&s;t &s;u&s;picion of the Neigh|bours. In the mean time, le&s;t the In|cen&s;e he brought with him might not be &s;ufficient to maintain the flame of love the whole night, and his zeal cool through too much fervency at fir&s;t; the provident <HI>Matron</HI> made ready a <HI>Collation</HI> of generous Wines, Con&s;erves, and other re&s;torative <HI>quelques Cho&s;es,</HI> to help carry on the work; and &s;et them in order upon a little Table in her bed-chamber. She contrived al&s;o her affair &s;o circum&s;pectly, as to &s;end her <HI>Cham|ber-maid,</HI> who was indeed the Hus|bands principal &s;pie over her, to the wedding of a Neighbours Daughter, not without rea&s;on, pre&s;uming that the wenches curio&s;ity to pry into the plea|&s;ant rites of the Bridal night, and her
<PB N="8" REF="18"> ambition to be mo&s;t lucky in the &s;u|per&s;titious &s;port of throwing, the Brides &s;tocking, would long enough divert her from her charge at home. And thus far all things went on according to their wi&s;hes, nor did any thoughts di&s;quiet the calmer brea&s;ts of our pair of Lovers, but &s;uch as u&s;ually ari&s;e from vehement <HI>expectation;</HI> the Soldier dreaming of nothing but Victory, Triumph, and Spoils; and the Lady of high content in having her Fort new man'd, and ma|king the A&s;&s;ailant her Captive. But, O, the capriciou&s;ne&s;s of <HI>Fortune!</HI> or rather the vigilance of <HI>Jealou&s;ie!</HI></P>
<P>The appointed hour being at length come, the punctual <HI>Soldier</HI> making ha&s;te to enter upon his Duty, to guard the fair <HI>Matron</HI> from Spectres and Goblins, in the ab&s;ence of her Husband; ad|vanceth to the po&s;tern door of her hou&s;e, as he had been directed, but finding it &s;hut, and hearing no noi&s;e within, he made a halt, and very di&s;creet|ly forbearing to knock, fell to the po|&s;ture of a diligent <HI>Sentinel,</HI> &s;oftly walk|ing to and fro in the narrow Alley that led to the hou&s;e from the Street, where while he was exerci&s;ing his patience, it mo&s;t unluckily hapned, that the no le&s;s
<PB N="9" REF="18"> vigilant and impatient <HI>Husband</HI> (who had conceal'd him&s;elf at a Friends in the Neighbourhood) returned by the &s;ame Alley, and &s;tealing along as &s;ortly and warily as a Thief to commit Burglary, takes good notice of the night-walker, whom he immediately concluded with|in him&s;elf to be the <HI>Mars,</HI> on whom his <HI>Venus</HI> was &s;o <HI>furiou&s;ly</HI> ennamour'd; whereupon, entring his hou&s;e, and lock|ing the door behind him, with as little noi&s;e as a Pick-lock; he finds his wife in a dre&s;s of neat and rich night-linnen, like a Bride going to bed, which adding more Fewel to his &s;u&s;picion, and exa&s;|perating the &s;en&s;e of his wrong; he puts on the countenance of rage and terror, with enflamed and threatning eyes &s;taring, as <HI>Cae&s;ars</HI> Gho&s;t upon <HI>Bru|tus,</HI> upon h<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter">s poor &s;urpri&s;ed wife, who &s;tood as &s;till, by rea&s;on of her a&s;to|ni&s;hment, as if &s;he had been congealed by lightning, or transformed into a Statue. For <HI>&s;hame upon the unexpected fru&s;tration of an evil de&s;ign, doth u&s;u|&s;ually produce confu&s;ion.</HI> Her &s;oul, con|&s;cious of infidelity hitherto only in ima|gination and de&s;ign, began to pre&s;age more evils, than it could have de&s;er|ved, had her de&s;ign &s;ucceeded into Act;
<PB N="10" REF="19"> the violence of her pa&s;&s;ion being fa|vourably con&s;idered. But, could &s;he &s;o &s;oon have recollected her di&s;ordered &s;pi|rits, and recovered the u&s;e of her tongue; her Husband's fury would have re|&s;train'd her, and he yet could only breath revenge, not utter it in words, After a little pau&s;e, going into her bed-chamber, he there encounters with fre&s;h cau&s;es of &s;u&s;picion; the dre&s;&s;ing-Table by the bed-&s;ide richly furni&s;ht with provoking delicates, clean &s;heets, perfum'd pillows, and above all, his &s;pie, the <HI>Chambermaid,</HI> conjur'd out of the way; confirm'd in his jealou&s;ie by the&s;e convincing &s;igns, he now medi|tates upon nothing but Revenge, and how to effect it with the more &s;ecuri|ty and apparence of ju&s;tice. Re&s;olved, therefore, by cruelty to extort a Confe&s;|&s;ion, and &s;o make her her own accu&s;er; without &s;peaking a word, he &s;trips her to her &s;now-white skin, and carrying her down into the Porch, there binds her delicate Arms to one of the Pillars: had you been &s;o happy to have beheld her in that deplorable po&s;ture, doubt|le&s;s you would have thought you had &s;een the beautiful <HI>Andromede</HI> a &s;econd time chained naked to a Rock, and one,
<PB N="11" REF="19"> though perhaps not quite &s;o cha&s;te as &s;he, yet, if Beauty had its due,
<Q><L>She could not merit any bonds, be&s;ide</L>
<L>Tho&s;e, with which Lovers mutualy are tyed;</L></Q> and well worthy another <HI>Per&s;eus</HI> to de|liver, love and enjoy her. The hard-hearted <HI>U&s;urer,</HI> fancying to him&s;elf &s;ome &s;atisfaction in this fir&s;t Act of the Tra|gedy he intended; retires to his bed (though likely to have but a melancho|ly night of it, without his Con&s;ort) ho|ping by &s;leep to recompo&s;e his troubled mind.</P>
<P>In the mean time, our <HI>Man of War,</HI> who had promi&s;ed to him&s;elfe the height of all enjoyments, lay (Soldier like) perdue in the open Air; and when he had, till almo&s;t midnight in vain watched his Mi&s;tre&s;&s;es door, which &s;till continued as fa&s;t &s;hut, as the Temple of <HI>Janus</HI> in time of peace, he returns back to the hou&s;e of his <HI>She-Officer</HI> the <HI>Bawd,</HI> whom he found halfe naked, and prepared to keep one of <HI>Venus</HI>'s <HI>Vi|gils</HI> with a <HI>Client</HI> of hers (for her Cli|ents were often forced to gratifie her, for &s;olliciting their Love-cau&s;es, with &s;uch Fees) whom at that very hour &s;he
<PB N="12" REF="20"> expected. <HI>Ho, Mother,</HI> &s;ays he, <HI>with what tedious hope do I purcha&s;e from the Lady the plea&s;ure promi&s;ed me? I have already con&s;umed a whole hour (longer indeed than a whole winters night) in fruitle&s;s expectation; while &s;he, who &s;ought my Love; and made the A&s;signa|tion, hath not vouch&s;afed to open the door. 'Tis very &s;trange, methinks, unle&s;s ha|ving forgot both her &s;elf and her appoint|ment, &s;he hath buried her amour in &s;leep. Go thy ways, dear Mother, and enquire the cau&s;e of my di&s;appointment, and what commands the Lady hath for me; if to readvance, lo, I am ready for the com|bat; if to retreat, I am as ready to march off with flying Colours, and deferr the en|counter till another night.</HI> Scarcely were the&s;e la&s;t words out of his mouth, when the <HI>Bawd,</HI> incited partly by the &s;en&s;e of her honour (for, tho&s;e of her Trade mu&s;t be punctual in their a&s;&s;ignations) and partly by commi&s;eration of his im|patience, ha&s;tily ca&s;ting a <HI>Mantle,</HI> (a mo&s;t u&s;eful garment in &s;uch ca&s;es) over her &s;houlders, catches the <HI>Soldier</HI> by the hand, and conducts him back to the door; which &s;he opens with a Key given her by the <HI>Matron</HI> &s;ome while before, for her private acce&s;s upon occa&s;ion,
<PB N="13" REF="20"> and entreating him to &s;tand clo&s;e and &s;i|lent for a few minutes without, &s;he pa&s;|&s;es on through the Wood-yard and a little Garden, till &s;he arrived at the walk under the Porch, where groping along, &s;he had almo&s;t run her head again&s;t the living Statue there bound to a Pillar; which &s;he no &s;ooner di&s;cern'd, but &s;ur|priz'd with horror, as at &s;ight of a Gho&s;t or Apparition, &s;he &s;tood &s;till and gazed with affrighted eyes. The milky white|ne&s;s of the <HI>Matrons</HI> skin to &s;ome de|gree, overcame the darkne&s;s of the moonle&s;s night; nor would it &s;uffer her to be longer unperceived; &s;o that the <HI>Bawd</HI> &s;oon recovering her &s;elf out of her fir&s;t con&s;ternation, boldly approaches to the <HI>Lady;</HI> and, omitting to enquire into the cau&s;e of her being in that &s;trange and lamentable condition, de|livers in few words the <HI>Soldiers</HI> me&s;&s;age, even at that time not ungrateful to the receiver; for, the <HI>Lady</HI> finding the chains of Love more intollerable, than tho&s;e of her barbarous Husband; and endowed with a <HI>Wit</HI> no whit inferior to her Beauty; &s;oon apprehended, that now &s;he had an opportunity to convert this her misfortune into a benefit, and that &s;he ought not to de&s;pond, nor de|&s;pair
<PB N="14" REF="21"> of reaping the delights, which the jealou&s;ie of her Husband had hitherto prevented. Thus reanimated with fre&s;h hope, &s;he begins to wheadle the <HI>Engi|neer of Lu&s;t,</HI> and pouring the oyl of good language and endearing expre&s;&s;i|ons into her ears, <HI>My deare&s;t Mother,</HI> &s;ays &s;he, <HI>my good Angel, I can bear this my affliction with patience, be|coming the undaunted re&s;olution of a Lo|ver; yea more, I can change it into a complete Felicity, if you will but vouch|&s;afe me your a&s;si&s;tance; I know no way to revenge my Husbands cruelty, but to de&s;erve it by acting what he &s;o much fears. Help me their to meet and embrace my Lo|ver, that he who hath &s;o kindly entertain'd my invitation, &s;o ju&s;tly ob&s;erved our ap|pointment, may neither accu&s;e me of breach of faith, nor want the reward due to his Fidelity. Let your courteous hands untie the knots that hamper mine, and for a few minutes free me from the&s;e bonds, that I may really de&s;erve them.</HI> The&s;<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter"> charms &s;oon wrought upon the good nature of the <HI>Bawd,</HI> who was the ve|ry <HI>Renet</HI> of Concupi&s;cence; &s;o that &s;he readily di&s;ingaged her Daughter from the cold embraces of the Pillar.</P>
<PB N="15" REF="21">
<P>Who being thus happily at liberty, a&s;&s;umes more Courage and Wit from her adventure; and falls to per&s;wade her deliverer to &s;uffer her &s;elf to be bound with the &s;ame Cord, and to &s;up|ply her room only while &s;he ha&s;ted to her <HI>Gallant;</HI> to give him an a&s;&s;urance of her con&s;tancy; &s;he told her, there could be no hazard in the enterprize, &s;ince her Husband was in his bed and fa&s;t a&s;leep, and all the world but them|&s;elves at quiet, and within two minutes &s;he would return and relieve her: Here|to &s;he added &s;uch golden promi&s;es, as might have overcome a mind much more ob&s;tinate and doubtful than the <HI>Bawds,</HI> who boggled at no danger to oblige a friend; but accordingly &s;hift|ing her <HI>Mantle</HI> (&s;ome will have it to be only a <HI>Blanket</HI>) from her own &s;houlders to the <HI>Matrons;</HI> readily yielded her &s;elf to be bound to the Pillar, in the &s;ame manner as &s;he had found her Pre|dece&s;&s;or. This certainly was a mo&s;t plea|&s;ant Scene, well worthy a Theatre, and might make a good plot for a <HI>Tragico|medy.</HI> The <HI>Matron</HI> leaving her Deputy thus bound and naked, yet without impeachment of her mode&s;ty; and mounting on the wings of love, fled
<PB N="16" REF="22"> in an in&s;tant to her <HI>Paramour:</HI> 'Twas a bold and adventurous Act this, for a Woman &s;o lately &s;urprized, &s;o cruelly treated, &s;o miraculou&s;ly delivered; nay, not yet delivered from danger of great|er torments, and perhaps of death; thus to throw her &s;elf into the Arms of her Adulterer, to force, even de&s;ti|ny it &s;elf to give way to the &s;atisfacti|on of her de&s;ires. But <HI>Love in&s;pires Audacity and Contempt of all perils into the Weake&s;t and mo&s;t timorous hearts.</HI></P>
<P>Hardly had the greedy <HI>Matron</HI> with &s;ilence expre&s;s'd her joy, and ta&s;ted the fir&s;t di&s;h of Loves Banquet, <HI>Ki&s;ses,</HI> a di&s;h that doth at once &s;atisfie and pro|voke the Appetite; when the <HI>Soldier,</HI> deceived by the <HI>Mantle</HI> &s;he had bor|rowed, and mi&s;taking her for the true owner thereof, began to put her from him, as &s;corning to u&s;e his Arms again&s;t &s;o ba&s;e and impudent an Enemy; but &s;he &s;oon gue&s;&s;ing at the cau&s;e of his a|ver&s;ion, by her harmonious voice, which yet &s;he dur&s;t not rai&s;e above a whisper, convinced him of his error, and re&s;to|red him to a due a&s;&s;urance, that he had the per&s;on he look'd for, and no <HI>Change|ling:</HI> Whereupon, omitting all further ceremonies, he did his devoir to verifie
<PB N="17" REF="22"> the good opinion &s;he had at fir&s;t &s;ight, when he was bathing him&s;elf, concei|ved of his <HI>good parts;</HI> and &s;he, on the other &s;ide (if at lea&s;t there were now any di&s;tinction of &s;ides) did hers, to fix him in a confidence, that her Love was <HI>true</HI> and unfeigned. &para;</P>
<P>While the&s;e our zealous votaries to the Godde&s;s of Plea&s;ures, are at their &s;ilent devotions; the &s;illy <HI>Cuckold,</HI> (now I think we may call him &s;o) her <HI>Husband,</HI> who is an example of that Sentence in <HI>Seneca,</HI> that <HI>many times, by &s;eeking to avoid dangers, we run head|long into the mid&s;t of them,</HI> was in a &s;lumber, wherein his perturbed imagi|nation pre&s;ented to him di&s;mal and in|fau&s;t vi&s;ions: he dreamed that he &s;aw his wife &s;acrificing her honour, and do|ing that odious Act, that drew an in|delible &s;tain and reproach upon him and his whole Family; having broken her bonds a&s;under, and mixing her &s;elf with her armed Adulterer in clo&s;e&s;t embra|ces; that him&s;elf, while he was labour|ing to revenge the contumelious injury, was transformed into a <HI>Satyr:</HI> The hor|ror of this ominous dream interrupting his &s;lumber, and his Fancy retaining a deep impre&s;&s;ion of tho&s;e dire Phan|ta&s;mes;
<PB N="18" REF="23"> he begins to believe his trans|formation to be real, and feels his No&s;e, if it were not grown crooked like a <HI>Sa|tyr</HI>'s; his Forehead, if it were not arm|ed with Antlers; his Thighs, if they were cloth'd with &s;haggy hair; his feet, if they were not cloven, and his Toes turned into hoofs; then &s;till credulous of the fir&s;t part of his vi&s;ion, he leaps out of his bed, throws open the window, and calls aloud upon his wife, who was now either out of hearing, or not a<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter"> lea&s;ure to give an&s;wer to his cur&s;es and reproaches; But alas! the Reverend <HI>Bail,</HI> her <HI>Confident,</HI> heard and trem|bled; &s;he now, though too late, found the error of her kindne&s;s, and &s;aw no way to &s;afety but by ob&s;tinate &s;ilence, which &s;he with more re&s;olution and con|&s;tancy kept, than one of <HI>Pythagoras</HI> Scholars during his novitiate, in &s;pite of the ingeminated exclamations of the inraged <HI>Malbecco,</HI> who exa&s;perated by that Contempt (for &s;o he under&s;tood it) and fancying &s;ome Divine &s;ugge&s;ti|ons to revenge from the <HI>Genius</HI> of the Marriage-bed, &s;natches up a Razor that lay in the Window, runs down the Stairs in the dark, and flying mo&s;t furiou&s;ly at the very face of his wifes
<PB N="19" REF="23"> Deputy, catches her fa&s;t by her No&s;e, and with one well-guided &s;la&s;h cuts it quite off, then flinging the &s;ame in her face; <HI>Thou wor&s;t of Women,</HI> &s;aith he, <HI>worthy of a greater brand of infamy, there, take that token of my hate, and &s;end it for a pre&s;ent to thy Adulterer; who per|haps will either grow more enamour'd up|on this change of thy forme, this new-mo|dell'd face; or confe&s;s thee to have a better Title to his love by thy &s;uffrings for his &s;ake.</HI> Thus in&s;ulting over the mi&s;erable wretch, and triumphing in his revenge, he returns to his thorny bed, there with &s;leep to ea&s;e his head, now in truth much <HI>heavier</HI> than be|fore: What &s;hall I &s;ay of the poor mangled and no&s;ele&s;s <HI>Bawd?</HI> only this; that her fear of a wor&s;e accident, if &s;he were known to her Tormentor; made her undergoe her pains and lo&s;s with more than a <HI>Spartan</HI> patience: Unhap|py friend&s;hip! &s;ad Exchange! it was her lot to be drencht with the Gall of Love, while the Matron &s;uck'd the Honey of it: her evil de&s;tiny to be be&s;mear'd with her own blood, while the more guilty wife was anointed with the Butter of Joy. Thus in <HI>Duels,</HI> we &s;ee, often the <HI>&s;econds</HI> are wounded,
<PB N="20" REF="24"> while the <HI>Principals</HI> remain unhurt.</P>
<P>The Schi&s;matical <HI>No&s;e</HI> was &s;carce|ly grown cold, when our <HI>Fau&s;tina,</HI> ha|ving fini&s;hed her fir&s;t trial of skil with her <HI>Gladiator,</HI> and with a thou&s;and part|ing ki&s;&s;es di&s;mi&s;s'd him to recruit his &s;pirits lo&s;t in the conflict, returns with the joys of a double victory to her Po&s;t. But, how &s;hort-lived a thing is &s;en&s;ual delight! how evanid are all our tri|umphs! when &s;he under&s;tood the &s;uf|ferings of her <HI>Martyr,</HI> the Sun-&s;hine of her content was in a moment darkned with clouds of grief and d<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter">eadful ap|prehen&s;ions, and all her exulting &s;miles exchanged for tears and dejection of Mind. But <HI>Grief and Fear, are almo&s;t as bad Coun&s;ellors as Love,</HI> which our witty <HI>Matron</HI> well under&s;tanding, and remembring withal, that Nature had furni&s;hed her whole Sex with a faculty of quick invention, how to evade ap|proaching danger, and to conceal faults; re-a&s;&s;ures her &s;elf, and &s;ets her brain on work how to palliate this wound, which was pa&s;t her cure. <Q>She hath recour&s;e, therefore, to the Art of Con&s;olation, and endeavours to mitigate the <HI>Bawds</HI> dolours with an <HI>Anodyne</HI> of kind and commi&s;erating language. She b<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter">ds
<PB N="21" REF="24"> her not to be ca&s;t down with her mi&s;|fortune, which, carried with bravery and di&s;cretion, might turn to her ad|vantage, and prove a noble experi|ment of her Fidelity among all the <HI>Cimmerians;</HI> that the &s;egment of her No&s;e would be to <HI>Venus</HI> an offering as grateful and propitiatory, as locks of <HI>hair</HI> to other <HI>Deities;</HI> that if in a Sol|dier wounds in the face were honoura|ble witne&s;&s;es of his courage and brave|ry; why &s;hould not tho&s;e received in the &s;ervice of <HI>Venus</HI> be likewi&s;e ac|counted marks of Gallantry and a da|ring &s;pirit? that though the now morti|fied <HI>No&s;e</HI> could not be &s;et on again (for <HI>Tagliacotius</HI> lived a great way off <HI>Cim|meria</HI>) yet the wound would be ea&s;ily cured; and at wor&s;t, if &s;he were &s;o foo|li&s;h to re&s;olve not to live without one (a thing many a per&s;on of greater qua|lity had done before her) &s;he would cau&s;e a new one to be made for her of much more value, and better mettal than the fir&s;t.</Q> This la&s;t promi&s;e mol|lified more than all the con&s;olatory rea|&s;ons precedent, and the <HI>Bawd</HI> (who had a Soul &s;o abject and Mercenary, that &s;he would for Money have &s;old her eyes, and ears too into the bargain)
<PB N="22" REF="25"> becom's pacified and comforted there|with; then being loo&s;ed from the Pillar, and binding the <HI>Matron</HI> (who de&s;ired it) to the &s;ame; &s;he gropes out the piece of her No&s;e, wraps it up in a corner of her Mantle, and away &s;he trudges in que&s;t of a <HI>Chirurgeon;</HI> lock|ing the back door very carefully after her, and reflecting upon the ill &s;ucce&s;s of her <HI>obligation.</HI> &para;.</P>
<P>King <HI>Salomon</HI> reckoning <HI>Conies</HI> a|mong the four &s;orts of Animals, that being little, are yet exceeding wife; &s;aith of them, that <HI>being a generation not &s;trong, they make holes for them&s;elves among the Rocks.</HI> The &s;ame may be &s;aid of <HI>Women,</HI> who wanting &s;trength to a&s;&s;ert their faults, yet have cunning enough to hide them; they make bur|rows of excu&s;es, and run into them, when in danger to be taken: Like State&s;men, who have for their Impre&s;s a Gla&s;s Bee-hive, with this Motto, <HI>Nulli patet opus;</HI> they do their bu&s;ine&s;s in the dark, or, (as a witty <HI>Italian</HI> ex|pre&s;&s;eth it) <HI>de&s;mienten lo tran&s;parente con un vanna de cera,</HI> they &s;mear over their Hives with wax, &s;o that no eye can pry into the &s;ecrets of their work|ings, or be able to trace them in their
<PB N="23" REF="25"> amorous &s;tealths; if you doubt of this, you &s;hall &s;ee it verified in the fourth Act of this our Tragicomedy, which we are now arrived at.</P>
<P>The <HI>Bawd</HI> being hand&s;omly con|jur'd away, the coa&s;t clear, and all the world at re&s;t; our &s;ubtle <HI>Matron,</HI> after a &s;hort meditation, hath found out a way, if it &s;ucceed, not only to di&s;&s;em|ble her joyful Trea&s;on, but to appear &s;till innocent and faithful to her <HI>Hus|band;</HI> yea, yet farther, to invert the guilt upon him, and bring him at la&s;t to confe&s;s him&s;elf to have been in an er|ror. This, you'l &s;ay, is &s;omewhat diffi|cult: but, remember &s;he is a <HI>woman</HI> and in <HI>Love;</HI> and then you'l conceive it to be facil. Having formed the de&s;ign, &s;he delays not to put it in execution; Counterfeiting therefore, an appeal to the <HI>Moon</HI> (then newly ri&s;en above the verge of the Horizon) with a voice rai&s;ed by degrees from a low whi&s;per to a pitch high enough to reach the poor <HI>Cuckolds</HI> ears, &s;he invocates her help and protection, in &s;uch ver&s;es as the&s;e.</P>
<Q><LG>
<L>Si&s;ter of <HI>Jove,</HI> Queen Regent of the night,</L>
<L>From whom the meaner Stars derive their light;</L>
<PB N="24" REF="26">
<L>Or would&s;t be wor&s;hipt by great <HI>Juno's</HI> name,</L>
<L><HI>Joves</HI> Wife, or Si&s;ter, thou art &s;till the &s;ame.</L>
<L>That Sov'raign Dame, who art the Deity</L>
<L>O&s; wedlock rites and femal Cha&s;tity.</L>
<L>Why with au&s;picious Omens did I pay</L>
<L>My Nuptial vows upon my Marriage day?</L>
<L>If with an unconcern'd and even face</L>
<L>Thou do&s;t behold the Mi&s;chiefs of this place.</L>
<L>And you bright Planets, Heavens unerring eyes,</L>
<L>With which by night, he things on earth de&s;cries;</L>
<L>You witne&s;&s;es of my pure innocence,</L>
<L>(Who yet, as Judges, my hard fate di&s;pen&s;e)</L>
<L>Don't you grow dimm with horror, thus to &s;ee</L>
<L>A jealous Husbands cau&s;ele&s;s cruelty?</L>
<L>See, naked, bound, and mangled here I grone,</L>
<L>And expiate offences not my own.</L>
<L>If then the vertuous you can thus torment,</L>
<L>For the&s;e rewards, who would be innocent?</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>Methinks, I now &s;eem but my own pale Gho&s;t;</L>
<L>Beauty and Fame (a Womans &s;oul) are lo&s;t.</L>
<L>Though pure from Thought, or Act, yet wretched I,</L>
<L>Mu&s;t wear a face, that gives my heart the lie.</L>
<L>Why live I thus? why does this mangled &s;hape</L>
<L>Confine that &s;oul, which would &s;o fain e&s;cape?</L>
<L>To die is better, and one blow to give,</L>
<L>Than rob'd of Honour, nay and Beauty, live.</L>
<L>To die is be&s;t indeed; but, oh, the hands,</L>
<L>That &s;hould performe my freer Wills commands,</L>
<L>Alas, are fetter'd! &mdash;</L>
<PB N="25" REF="26">
<L>For death, when courted, from us then to flie,</L>
<L>Forcing to live, 'tis then he makes us die.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>Ah, cruel Man! here thou ha&s;t torments found</L>
<L>Beyond the&s;e bonds, beyond this horrid wound.</L>
<L>Happy <HI>Lucretia,</HI> &s;ince thou could'&s;t atte&s;t</L>
<L>Thy innocence, by piercing of thy brea&s;t;</L>
<L>Whil&s;t thus expiring in thy Husbands arms,</L>
<L>Ev'n in thy death could&s;t gain more pow'rful charms.</L>
<L>Thou Cha&s;t art call'd, becau&s;e thou could&s;t but die,</L>
<L>Whil&s;t death to me doth that relief deny.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>Thou Godde&s;s wert &s;evere unto thy <HI>Jove,</HI></L>
<L>And Heav'n could&s;t purge from his unlawful love:</L>
<L>If to bad Women thou &s;o ju&s;t art known,</L>
<L>Wilt thou not vindicate one hone&s;t one?</L>
<L>Behold with pity, and do not de&s;pi&s;e</L>
<L>Tears mixt with blood, which flow from mournful eyes.</L>
<L>Puni&s;h the jealous Man, and make him feel</L>
<L>The &s;ad effects of his own cruel &s;teel;</L>
<L>Shew him his crime, and what 'tis let him know,</L>
<L>T'offend a Woman, and a Godde&s;s too.</L>
<L>At lea&s;t be ju&s;t, and my late form re&s;tore</L>
<L>With my lo&s;t fame, or let me be no more.</L>
</LG></Q>
<P>Having breath'd forth this &s;upplica|tion in a langui&s;hing tone, and made it &s;eem more pathetical by interpo&s;ing now and then a profound &s;igh or two (and indeed of all our Pa&s;&s;ions none are
<PB N="26" REF="27"> more ea&s;ily counterfeited then <HI>Zeal</HI> and <HI>Sorrow</HI>) on a &s;uddain changing the key of her voice into a confu&s;ed murmur, and then to that of a civil conference, &s;he di&s;&s;embled a familiar Dialogue with the <HI>Deity,</HI> who&s;e ayd &s;he had newly implored: and in fine, as if her prayer had been heard, and her petition mira|culou&s;ly granted, with an elevated voice &s;he makes an <HI>Apo&s;trophe</HI> to her Husband, exclaiming again&s;t his im|pro&s;perous tyranny in the&s;e words.</P>
<P><HI>He, thou mo&s;t barbarous of men, thou F<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter">ry in human &s;hape, thy bloody rage a|gain&s;t thy cha&s;te&s;t r<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter">ife hath prov'd thy own undoing. The mercy of the Cele&s;tial Powers hath overcome thy Cruelty, le&s;t my virtue might &s;uffer by thy unde&s;erved and ba&s;e: &s;u&s;picious. Now &s;halt thou be forced to confe&s;s, what thy impiety made thee doubt of, that I am innocent, and that</HI>
<Q>There is a God who &s;ees and notes our deeds.</Q> <HI>I am convinced, I am convinced; it is none but</HI> Juno, Protectre&s;s of conjugal Cha&s;tity, <HI>who compa&s;sionating my &s;ufferings, hath by Miracle re&s;tored that amiable form of mine, which thou, di&s;tra|cted with jealou&s;ie, had'&s;t de&s;troy'd. Goe
<PB N="27" REF="27"> then, de&s;perate Villain, and &s;heath that bloody knife of thine in thy own inhuman bowels; that &s;o unworthy a wretch may no longer enjoy the happine&s;s of &s;o faith|ful and &s;potle&s;s a Wi&s;e. Having obtain|ed &s;o &s;ignal a favour from the immortal Gods, well may I contemn and bid defi|ance to the anger of a Mortal Man, e&s;pe|cially one &s;o wicked, &s;o degraded by his crimes.&mdash; O night! more illu&s;trious than the brighte&s;t day. O hour! more for|tunate than that of my birth.&mdash;Now flow on, flow on officious Tears, but from a different pa&s;sion. But, thou, execrable Hangman, &s;acrilegious Thief, ha&s;ten hi|ther to be convinced of my purity, and thy crime; make ha&s;t, I &s;ay, that, if it be po&s;sible, thou mai&s;t make attonement for the innocent blood thou ha&s;t &s;pilt, and for the &s;acrilege thou ha&s;t committed, and &s;o in time appea&s;e the wrath of an offended Godde&s;s.</HI> &para;</P>
<P>This triumphant <HI>Harangue</HI> arriving at the ears of the poor <HI>Cornuto,</HI> her <HI>Husband</HI> (whom di&s;quiet of mind kept from &s;leep) it alarmd all his Faculties, and put him into &s;o great a confu&s;ion, that giving but little credit to his &s;en&s;e, he lay a good while con&s;idering the
<PB N="28" REF="28"> probability of what he heard. At fir&s;t he thought it an <HI>Illu&s;ion</HI> (&s;ince to Na|ture it is much ea&s;ier to make a man dream impo&s;&s;ibilities, than to effect them) and began therefore to feel if his Eyes were open, that he might there|by be certified, whether he were awake, or not. Then finding it to be no dream, and hearing his Wife continue her Speech, and denouncing a deluge of dire Judgments again&s;t him; his rage and jealou&s;ie began at once to give place to as vehement Fear and Remor&s;e. Ri|&s;ing therefore ha&s;tily from his bed, and lighting a candle, down he goes, re&s;ol|ved to make his eyes judges of the truth of what he dur&s;t not believe up|on the &s;ingle te&s;timony of his ears. Arrived at the fatal Pillar, the &s;cene of &s;uch prodigious accidents, and be|holding his Wifes face attentively, he found it perfect, and without the lea&s;t &s;ign of hurt, nay not &s;o much as &s;tain'd with a drop of blood; and her hands &s;till tied as he had at fir&s;t left them. Whereat a&s;toni&s;h't, and per&s;uaded in him&s;elf, that &s;o &s;upernatural an event, as the re&s;tauration of a No&s;e cut off, could not come to pa&s;s but by power <HI>Divine;</HI> he &s;unk down into an abhor|rence
<PB N="29" REF="28"> of his wicked fact, and of the no le&s;s abominable motive thereof, his jea|lou&s;ie; dreading withall &s;ome dire pu|ni&s;hment from the ju&s;t anger of the Gods. Then ca&s;ting him&s;elf upon the pavement, in token of his &s;orrow and contrition, he wa&s;hes out the bloody &s;tains thereof with penitential tears. Which done, he kneels in adoration of &s;o manife&s;t a <HI>Miracle,</HI> and in humble but fervent prayers, begs pardon fir&s;t of Heaven, then of his Wife (too wi&s;e to be inexorable) for the horrid effect of his outragious Pa&s;&s;ion. Which when &s;he, <HI>good Soul,</HI> had graciou&s;ly promi&s;ed upon a &s;olemn vow of refor|mation of Manners on his part, tran&s;|ported with joy, he unties the cord, &s;ets her at liberty, ki&s;&s;es her all over, and leads her to bed, there to &s;eal his recon|ciliation to her, now a rare Example of un&s;potted Cha&s;tity. Thus, ble&s;t be the God of Love! Our witty <HI>Matron,</HI> hath at once recovered three mo&s;t pre|cious things, her <HI>No&s;e,</HI> her <HI>Honour,</HI> and her Husbands <HI>Love.</HI></P>
<P>Not long after this happy conclu&s;i|on or <HI>Cata&s;trophe,</HI> the <HI>Bawd,</HI> well rewar|ded with a pur&s;e of money for her lo&s;s and feere&s;y, and hoping to mend her
<PB N="30" REF="29"> fortunes by removing to a place of better trading; packs up her baggage, and marches away to the Court of <HI>Comus,</HI> King of the <HI>Cimmerians:</HI> where &s;he now lives no &s;mall Favourite, and exerci&s;ing her talent every day, in laying new de&s;igns, and managing the clo&s;e intrigues of Love betwixt Ladies and their Gallants. Wherein long pra|ctice hath made her &s;o excellent, that if any Woman in that Court, be &s;he Maid, Wife, or Widow, plea&s;e you; and if you commit the matter to her contrivement and interce&s;sion: you need not doubt the &s;ucce&s;s.</P>
<P>As for the <HI>Souldier,</HI> though my <HI>Au|thor</HI> &s;ayes no more of him, but what I have recounted; yet, con&s;idering that he was a man of honour, a Son of <HI>Mars,</HI> it is not to be doubted, but that he continued &s;ecret and faithful to his <HI>Ve|nus.</HI> Nor is it le&s;s probable that <HI>She,</HI> a gracious and obliging Mi&s;tre&s;s, conti|nued to love him better, than &s;he did her <HI>U&s;urer,</HI> notwith&s;tanding her remi&s;|&s;ion of his cruel u&s;age, and readmi&s;&s;ion of him to her grace and favour. Where|upon I cannot at any time reflect, with|out acknowledging the goodne&s;s o<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter"> <HI>Pr<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter">&s;erpine,</HI> in keeping her promi&s;e mad<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter">
<PB N="31" REF="29"> to the Lady <HI>May</HI> in <HI>Chaucer;</HI> which was this, in her an&s;wer to <HI>Pluto,</HI> who would fain re&s;tore to <HI>January,</HI> her Husband, his &s;ight, that he might &s;ee his E&s;quire, <HI>Damian,</HI> making him <HI>Cuc|kold</HI> in a Pear-tree.</P>
<Q><LG>
<L>You &s;hall (quoth <HI>Pro&s;erpine</HI>) and well ye &s;o?</L>
<L>Now by my Mothers Soul, Sir, I &s;were,</L>
<L>That I &s;hall yeven her &s;ufficient an&s;were,</L>
<L>And all women after for her &s;ake;</L>
<L>That though they ben in any gilte itake,</L>
<L>With face bolde, they &s;hullen hem&s;elve excu&s;e,</L>
<L>And bere hem doun, that wold hem accu&s;e.</L>
<L>For lack of an&s;were, non of hem &s;hull dien,</L>
<L>All had he &s;ey a thing with both his eyen:</L>
<L>Yet &s;hould we women &s;o vi&s;age it hardely,</L>
<L>And wepe, and &s;were, and chide &s;ubtelly;</L>
<L>That men &s;hall ben as leude as Gees.</L>
<L>What recketh me of your auctoritees, <HI>&amp;c.</HI></L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L><HI>Explicit Hi&s;toria, &amp; &s;equuntur My&s;teria Amoris,</HI></L>
</LG></Q>
</DIV1>
<DIV1 TYPE="part">
<PB N="32" REF="30">
<HEAD>THE My&s;teries and Miracles OF LOVE.</HEAD>
<DIV2 N="1" TYPE="section">
<HEAD>SECT. I.</HEAD>
<P>_LOVE is a Ghe&s;t &s;ooner entertain'd, than per|ceived; and yet &s;ooner perceived than known, and much ea&s;ier known than under|&s;tood; better under&s;tood, than defined or de&s;cribed. As if it challen|ged only the Heart for its proper a|partment, and di&s;dained any remove up into the Brain: as if it took delight to be felt not &s;hewn: as if being po&s;&s;e&s;&s;ed the rece&s;&s;es of the heart, it feared to be ejected thence, if it once came neer the Tongue. Like Holy Writ, it ad|mits
<PB N="33" REF="30"> of no Interpreter but it &s;elf: not do we come to know it by either prae|cepts or examples; but by <HI>Infu&s;ion.</HI> You may affirm &s;afely, that <HI>Cupid</HI> is not only blind, but al&s;o dumb: making all parts of the body vocal, except the tongue. Hence it is, that Lovers are more eloquent in their &s;ighs than in their words, as if no me&s;&s;engers were &s;o fit to convey their &s;entiments, as their vital breath: and like <HI>Paphian</HI> Doves, they grone forth living Epi&s;tles. Nay, they di&s;cour&s;e together &s;ilently by the rhetorick of their fingers, and weave dialogues in Chaplets. By affable nods, and darted &s;miles, the vocal Am|ba&s;&s;adors of de&s;ire, they treat about their union; and read each others Soul in glances. Their <HI>Colloquies,</HI> like tho&s;e of Angels, are made by <HI>intuition:</HI> and they expre&s;s them&s;elves al&s;o, like them, not by the Intellect, but the <HI>Will.</HI></P>
<Q><L>Oblique intuens inde nutibus &mdash;</L>
<L>Nutibus mutuis inducens in errorem mentem puellae:</L>
<L>Et illa contra nutibus mutuis juvenis</L>
<L>Leandri, quod amorem non renuit, <HI>&amp;c.</HI></L></Q>
<P>is <HI>Mu&s;aeus</HI> his de&s;cription of the Eye-parly between <HI>Leander</HI> and <HI>Hero.</HI> Some|times
<PB N="34" REF="31"> fixing their wandring countenan|ces, as upon &s;trangers, while they open|ly decline and renounce acquaintance, they become &s;ecretly familiar. Some|times their contracted brows threaten di&s;plea&s;ure; but at the &s;ame time they contract them with &s;uch &s;weetne&s;s, that they rather invite than di&s;courage; and their very frowns are obliging. Some|times their Souls interchangeably &s;ally forth at their Eyes, and &s;teal ki&s;&s;es at a di&s;tance; and then return home again triumphing in their invi&s;ible thefts. Thus both &s;ides gain, yet neither lo|&s;es; both lo&s;e and both gain. Their chief aim is, to be &s;urpri&s;ed: and yet their chief plea&s;ure and glory is, not to be perceived. Thus that which is &s;o often brought into the Theatre, flies all &s;pectators, and acts in its own per&s;on. The&s;e Divine Confabulators, as if pla|ced above the lawes of &s;en&s;e, by mo&s;t certain Auguries divine each others wi&s;hes, and &s;earch each others heart without di&s;&s;ecting the brea&s;t. They are a kind of <HI>Seers,</HI> that behold the de&s;ires of their Corre&s;pondent, as it were &s;pectres; which like <HI>Catoptrical Images,</HI> are not perceived but by the &s;ame art, that created them: or, like the Deities
<PB N="35" REF="31"> of old i&s;&s;uing from their Statues, they in&s;pire the per&s;on, to whom they &s;peak; as if two Minds met to animate one Body, and conver&s;ed together with no le&s;s &s;ilence, than one u&s;es to conver&s;e with it &s;elf alone. Of all our affections, this alone knows not to be expre&s;&s;ed; and the &s;acred rites thereof (as tho&s;e of the mo&s;t ancient Gods of the Heathen) are performed in the dark. Though the pa&s;&s;ion be of it &s;elf innocent, yet it is alwayes conjoyned with &s;ecret &s;hame: and the &s;ame blu&s;hes that betray our flame, &s;trive to hide it.</P>
<Q><L>Alterno facies &s;ibi dat re&s;pon&s;a rubore,</L>
<L>Et tener affectum prodit utrique pudor;</L></Q>
<P>as that merry-conceited <HI>Arnulphus, Epi&s;copus Lexovien&s;is,</HI> hath well ex|pre&s;&s;ed in a facete <HI>Epigram</HI> of his. Every Love hath its <HI>Flammeum,</HI> as well as <HI>Hymen:</HI> and at the <HI>Elu&s;inean</HI> &s;acrifi|ces both &s;exes are veild. All the Vo|taries of <HI>Venus,</HI> as well as her darling <HI>Aeneas,</HI> walk &s;urrounded with clouds; and they frequent even publick Thea|tres invi&s;ibly. Nay <HI>Cupid</HI> him&s;elf, not contented with a &s;ingle Veil, con|trives al&s;o Ambu&s;hes for more &s;ecre&s;y: and oftner takes in Hearts by &s;tratagem
<PB N="36" REF="32"> and &s;urprize, than by &s;torm. Thus He that compo&s;ed and maintains the World in order, left him&s;elf in confu&s;i|on; dwelling in a retreat of the antient darkne&s;s, and primitive Chaos. &para;.</P>
</DIV2>
<DIV2 N="2" TYPE="section">
<HEAD>SECT. II.</HEAD>
<P>HIs <HI>Mother</HI> too avoids the light e|ver &s;ince he was born; as being as much a&s;hamed of his childi&s;h treache|ries, as offended with the Sun, for di&s;|covering her in the arms of <HI>Mars.</HI> She ob&s;cures her &s;elf in a Labyrinth, and ad|mits no Eye to prie into her Clo&s;et: nay, in her chiefe&s;t &s;olaces &s;he u&s;es to &s;hut her own eyes, as being jealous le&s;t they &s;hould di&s;cover too much of her divinity. She is the true <HI>Sphinx,</HI> that &s;ubdues and de&s;troyes by a Riddle: more, &s;he makes every man a Riddle to him&s;elf, while being by contrary pa&s;&s;i|ons agitated, and hurried up and down by the flux and reflux of his own vio|lent thoughts, he at once finds him&s;elf a <HI>Captive,</HI> and &s;trives to be a <HI>Conqueror.</HI> And this the capricious Lad, her Son, a&s;&s;i&s;ts her to effect; that we poor Mor|tals may believe, &s;he was begotten be|twixt the winds and waves in a Tempe&s;t.
<PB N="37" REF="32"> No wonder then, if Love &s;eem Aenig|matical and full of contradictions. It is not ea&s;ily intelligible, how the &s;ame per&s;on can at the &s;ame time both <HI>&s;erve</HI> and be <HI>free;</HI> have all his Faculties de|voted to the plea&s;ure of another, and yet pre&s;erve the command of his own Will; make an ab&s;olute re&s;ignation of him|&s;elf, and yet pretend not only to Liber|ty, but to <HI>Dominion:</HI> and yet Love doth &s;oon reconcile the&s;e repugnances; and bring his Subjects to govern by obedi|ence, teaching them, like the Freed|men of &s;ome Roman Emperours, <HI>ob&s;e|quii titulo Dominis imperare,</HI> to rule their Soveraigns will by ob&s;ervance of it, and alter their coun&s;els by ob&s;equiou&s;ne&s;s and complacency.</P>
<P>Nor is it le&s;s difficult to conceive, that one can die, and in&s;tantly revive a|gain; yea, be <HI>alive</HI> and <HI>dead</HI> at once; or, like the <HI>Phoenix,</HI> build his own both funeral and vital fire, out of which he rea&s;&s;umes a more vigorous and Youthful Being, than what the flames con&s;umed. Yet nothing is more frequent among Lovers; whom the miraculous Chymi|&s;try of Love, by a mo&s;t plea&s;ant <HI>Palin|gene&s;is,</HI> re&s;tores from their a&s;hes to their primitive &s;tate and forme.</P>
<PB N="38" REF="33">
<P>A man would think at fir&s;t, that no two things in Nature are more incom|patible, more incon&s;i&s;tent, more reci|procally de&s;tructive, than tho&s;e two contrary Pa&s;&s;ions, <HI>Love</HI> and <HI>Hate;</HI> the former cau&s;ing <HI>&s;weet</HI> and <HI>agreeable</HI> mo|tions in the &s;pirits, and blood, and fi|bres of the Heart; the later, <HI>unequal, har&s;h</HI> and <HI>offen&s;ive</HI> ones: the one tending to <HI>Complacency</HI> and <HI>Vnion;</HI> the other to <HI>Abhorrence</HI> and <HI>Flight:</HI> the one aim|ing at the <HI>Felicity,</HI> the other at the <HI>De&s;truction</HI> of its Object: but upon a &s;e|cond and more &s;erious con&s;ideration of the matter, he &s;hall find, that in the brea&s;t of even the mo&s;t ardent and re|fined <HI>Inamourato</HI> the&s;e two &s;o profe&s;&s;ed <HI>Enemies</HI> are become not reconciled, but <HI>Twins,</HI> and tho&s;e too not &s;uch as <HI>Ca&s;tor</HI> and <HI>Pollux,</HI> ri&s;ing and &s;etting alternate|ly, but like <HI>Lazarus</HI> and his <HI>Brother,</HI> growing together, &s;o that one is not only an individual Companion, but al&s;o an <HI>Appendix,</HI> or rather an <HI>integrant part</HI> of his fellow. For, the <HI>Servant</HI> alwayes wi&s;hes his Mi&s;tre&s;s <HI>le&s;s Happy</HI> than &s;he is, that &s;o his affection may ap|pear more pure, more &s;incere, and de|termined upon her <HI>Per&s;on</HI> alone. Is &s;he <HI>wi&s;e</HI> and di&s;creet; He pre&s;ently repro|ches
<PB N="39" REF="33"> the Stars, that favour'd her with &s;o &s;trong a defence; as conceiving, that if her Brain were le&s;s &s;ound, her Heart would be more tender, and that if &s;he had le&s;s <HI>wit,</HI> him&s;elf would be le&s;s &s;ubject to her <HI>Contempt.</HI> Is &s;he in <HI>Health,</HI> He &s;ecretly invocates <HI>Jove</HI> to afflict her with <HI>Sickne&s;s,</HI> that he may have that occa&s;ion to demon&s;trate his grief, his tenderne&s;s, his &s;ympathy. Is &s;he <HI>Rich,</HI> He cannot forbear to wi&s;h her in <HI>Want,</HI> that he might endow her with his For|tune. Is &s;he at <HI>Liberty,</HI> He longs to &s;ee her a <HI>Captive,</HI> that he may merit her favour by hazarding all in her re|demption. Is her <HI>Fame</HI> clear and imma|culate; how glad would he be &s;ome li|centious tongue would defile her Ho|nour, that he might wa&s;h away the &s;tains, though with his blood. Is her <HI>Birth</HI> and <HI>Quality</HI> noble; he would fain degrade her, that &s;he might derive all her Dignity from the Genero&s;ity of his Love. In a word, in &s;ome &s;ort or other He wi&s;hes her <HI>Mi&s;erable,</HI> that he may have the glory to <HI>relieve</HI> her, and that her own <HI>Nece&s;sity</HI> may draw, rather than his Court&s;hip and Ob&s;ervance invite her to his embraces. He had rather be her <HI>Sanctuary,</HI> than her <HI>Conqueror.</HI> Now
<PB N="40" REF="34"> is not here a certain <HI>Malignity</HI> mixt with <HI>Benevolence; Zeal</HI> tempered with <HI>Hate; Inhumanity</HI> proceeding from exce&s;s of <HI>Kindne&s;s; Cruelty</HI> conjoyned with the greate&s;t <HI>Charity?</HI> Yet &s;uch is the Con|&s;titution of Love. <HI>Cupid</HI> has no darts headed with pure Gold. What God &s;oever made and tippd his Shafts, &s;er|ved him as the <GAP DESC="foreign"> (as <HI>Rivaltus</HI> calls him) the treacherous Arti&s;t did <HI>Hiero,</HI> King of <HI>Syracu&s;e</HI> in ca&s;ting his Crown, put in a great deal of Copper a|mong the Gold. Which is perhaps one rea&s;on why the wounds of Lovers are &s;o painful and apt to fe&s;ter; it being the na|ture of Bra&s;s to ulcerate and breed Can|cers. I think it therefore no bla&s;phemy again&s;t the &s;o much adored Divinity of Love, to affirm, that it always hath &s;ome alloy of that Devil, <HI>Malice:</HI> and that <HI>no Man love's without Indignation.</HI> E&s;peci|ally when I reflect upon this, that the torments he &s;uffers cannot but force him even again&s;t his will to execrate his fair Tormentor; to be angry with the Thief, that robb'd him of him&s;elf; to wi&s;h that bright flame ob&s;cured or ex|tinct, that burns his wings, though, like the fooli&s;h Butterfly, he at the &s;ame time cea&s;es not to flutter about it, and
<PB N="41" REF="34"> (as a Modern Wit finely expre&s;&s;es it) <HI>beate frui necis autore,</HI> to enjoy his Mur|derer. Nor is it the poor neglected and de&s;pi&s;ed Lover, that alone hath rea|&s;on to complain of, and reproach his Mi&s;tre&s;s; even the mo&s;t pro&s;perous and triumphant feels di&s;quiet and angui&s;h enough to cau&s;e <HI>Regret,</HI> which is a kind of <HI>Anger.</HI></P>
<Q><L>&mdash; Dolor, querelae,</L>
<L>Lamentatio, lachrymae perennes,</L>
<L>Languor, anxietas, amaritudo,</L>
<L>Aut &s;i tri&s;te magis pote&s;t quid e&s;&s;e,</L>
<L>Hos tu das comites <HI>Naeera</HI> vitae;</L></Q>
<P>was the complaint of a Lover in <HI>Plautus,</HI> even after victory: and <HI>Poets</HI> them|&s;elves, none of the &s;evere&s;t cen&s;urers of this Heroic pa&s;&s;ion, call it <HI>&s;uavem amariciem, dolentiam delectabilem, hi|lare tormentum.</HI> Nay, old <HI>Plautus</HI> &s;o far condemned it, as he could not hold from crying out, <HI>Credo ego, ad hominis carnificinam Amorem inventum e&s;&s;e.</HI> If Love then be &s;o full of gall and anxi|ety, who can &s;uffer it without &s;ecret de|te&s;tation? who without reflecting upon the Author of his perturbations with di&s;plea&s;ure and offence. Certainly the mo&s;t gentle, the mo&s;t patient, the &s;weete&s;t temper, when urged and pro|vok'd
<PB N="42" REF="35"> by the&s;e inward gripes and pangs, will hardly be able to refrain from ex|claiming, with <HI>Phaedria</HI> in <HI>Terence</HI>
<Q><L>&mdash;<HI>O</HI> Thais, Thais! utinam e&s;&s;et mihi.</L>
<L>Pars aequa amoris tecum; ac pariter fieret,</L>
<L>&V;t aut hoc tibi doleret itidem, ut mihi dolet,</L>
<L>Aut ego i&s;tuc abs te factum nihili penderem.</L></Q></P>
<P>What's more common among Lo|vers, than thus to wi&s;h their torments tran&s;planted from their own into their Mi&s;tre&s;&s;es brea&s;t? and is not that to <HI>cur&s;e</HI> them? which the mo&s;t &s;avage na|ture would not do without <HI>indignation.</HI> It was not without good rea&s;on then, that <HI>Ari&s;totle</HI> (2 <HI>Rhetor.</HI>) placed Love in the <HI>Ira&s;sible</HI> part of the Soul; nor is it out of affectation of being Paradoxi|cal, but Zeal to Truth, that I have here a&s;&s;erted, That no man can Love without <HI>indignation,</HI> which will appear &s;omewhat more per&s;picuous, if we con|&s;ider, that <HI>indignation</HI> is always accom|panied with either <HI>Commi&s;eration</HI> or <HI>Ir|ri&s;ion.</HI> For, to do evil, is in &s;ome &s;ort to &s;uffer evil; and therefore &s;ome men, when they ob&s;erve any one to do evil, joyn to their indignation again&s;t, a Com|mi&s;eration for the doer, while others on
<PB N="43" REF="35"> the &s;ame occa&s;ion, mix Irri&s;ion with their Indignation; according as they &s;tand well or ill affected to the per&s;on doing ami&s;s; &s;o that the laughter of <HI>Democritus,</HI> and the weeping of <HI>Hera|clitus</HI> might proceed from one and the &s;ame cau&s;e; and Commi&s;eration, which is a degree of <HI>Love,</HI> may go hand in hand with Indignation.</P>
</DIV2>
<DIV2 N="3" TYPE="section">
<HEAD>SECT. III.</HEAD>
<P>ANother of Loves <HI>Problems</HI> is this; that the mo&s;t happy Lovers find their very enjoyments un&s;atisfactory, their joys in&s;incere. To them it is dif|ficult, to love; not to love, more dif|ficult; mo&s;t difficult to be po&s;&s;e&s;s'd of what they love. Be the <HI>Saint</HI> never &s;o propitious, never &s;o obliging; &s;till the <HI>votary</HI> continues his &s;upplications, his importunity, and not contented with all &s;he can grant, or he receive, he &s;eeks for more. The mi&s;erable Mind is afflicted no le&s;s with the <HI>&s;ucce&s;s,</HI> than with the <HI>vehemence</HI> of its de&s;ires; and like the <HI>Mi&s;ers,</HI> continues poor in the mid&s;t of Wealth; after a fea&s;t it ri&s;eth empty, retaining that &s;weet torment, <HI>&s;u&s;pirare &amp; cupere.</HI> As if they had as
<PB N="44" REF="36"> little u&s;e of their Memory, as of their Rea&s;on and Will, forgetting the &s;hort|ne&s;s, the emptine&s;s of pa&s;t enjoyments, they furiou&s;ly hunt after more. <HI>Memo|riae minimum tribuit, qui&s;quis &s;pei pluri|mum.</HI> Every one puts a higher value up|on his <HI>Hopes,</HI> than upon his <HI>Attainments.</HI> As their de&s;ires &s;o afflict, that they at the &s;ame time plea&s;e and delight, &s;o their joys are infe&s;ted with &s;uch calami|ties, that they excruciate. Here (if you plea&s;e) let us &s;tand a minute or two, and con&s;ider how this can be. The pa&s;|&s;ion of <HI>Joy</HI> (you know) always fol|lows upon a rickling of the &s;en&s;es by &s;ome agreeable object; and its contrary <HI>Grief,</HI> upon the offence and grating of them: and yet Grief may &s;ometimes be &s;u&s;tain'd with joy; and there are, on the other &s;ide, &s;ome certain titillati|ons that offend. But the true rea&s;on why Joy ari&s;eth for the mo&s;t part from <HI>titillation,</HI> I conceive to be this; that the plea&s;ure of all &s;en&s;ation con&s;i&s;teth in the Objects cau&s;ing in the Nerves and Brain &s;ome motion, which might violate and hurt them, in ca&s;e they were not firm and ten&s;e enough to re|&s;i&s;t it; This re&s;i&s;tence makes upon the centre of the brain an impre&s;&s;ion, which
<PB N="45" REF="36"> being in&s;tituted by Nature, to &s;ignifie and a<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter">te&s;t the good con&s;titution and &s;trength of the Nerves, repre&s;ents the &s;ame to the <HI>Soul</HI> as a <HI>Good</HI> pertaining to her, &s;o far forth at lea&s;t, as &s;he is con|joyn'd to the Body; and by that means excites <HI>joy</HI> in her; the &s;ame rea&s;on &s;erves al&s;o to explain, why naturally it is plea|&s;ant to every man, to feel him&s;elf com|moved to all &s;orts of Pa&s;&s;ions, yea even to &s;adne&s;s and hatred, when tho&s;e Af|fections ari&s;e only from the various e|vents repre&s;ented in Theatres, or other the like &s;ubjects, wherein he is not con|cerned. Which, becau&s;e they can no way harm us, &s;eem to tickle the &s;oul by touching her. And <HI>Pain</HI> ordinarily produceth <HI>Grief,</HI> becau&s;e that offen&s;e of the &s;en&s;e, which is called <HI>Pain,</HI> a|ri&s;eth from &s;ome Action &s;o violent, as to hurt the Nerves: of which the &s;oul in&s;tantly becoming &s;en&s;ible, looks up|on it as an <HI>Evil</HI> extending to her al|&s;o, and thereupon is affected with <HI>Grief;</HI> unle&s;s in &s;ome &s;uch ca&s;es, where &s;he is &s;trongly diverted by expectation of a greater Good from that Evil. As <HI>Mar|tyrs</HI> have exulted in their torments, not that they were in&s;en&s;ible of them, but becau&s;e their &s;ouls were po&s;&s;e&s;&s;ed with
<PB N="46" REF="37"> a confident hope that tho&s;e &s;hort pains would produce eternal plea&s;ures.</P>
<P>Upon this con&s;ideration perhaps, or &s;ome other not much different from it, it was, that <HI>Seneca</HI> thus expo&s;tulates with his dear <HI>Lucilius,</HI> about his im|moderate &s;orrow for the death of their common Friend, <HI>Flaccus (Epi&s;t.</HI> 63.) <HI>Quaeris unde lamentationes, unde immo|dici fletus? per lachrymas argumenta de&s;iderij quarimus: &amp; dolorem non &s;equi|mur, &s;ed o&s;tendimus, nemo tri&s;tis &s;ibi e&s;t. e&s;t aliqua &amp; doloris ambitio.</HI> The &s;umme whereof is this, that we find a certain plea&s;ure in Grieving; and that that plea&s;ure is grounded upon <HI>Ambiti|on</HI> (which is neerly allied to <HI>Love</HI>) to make it known to others, how well we loved that for which we grieve. To bring all this to our pre&s;ent argument. You &s;ee then, that Joy and Grief are no <GAP DESC="foreign">, no incompatible Pa&s;&s;ions, no &s;uch Enemies but that &s;ometimes at lea&s;t they may dwell together in one brea&s;t. If &s;o, why may not the Joys of Lovers be commixt with Grief? why may not their Fruitions be un&s;atisfacto|ry? I could fill a whole Page with the names of &s;uch, who&s;e flames raged more by extinction, and who&s;e love
<PB N="47" REF="37"> was &s;o far from langui&s;hing, that it grew more &s;trong and violent by the po&s;&s;e&s;|&s;ion of its object. <HI>Cupid</HI> is the &s;on of <HI>Venus,</HI> you know: and nur&s;ed by his Mothers Milk; and our friend <HI>Chaucer</HI> therefore wi&s;ely fixes the <HI>Epoche</HI> of <HI>Aeneas</HI> and <HI>Dido's</HI> love on the <HI>Jubile</HI> they celebrated in the Cave, whither the tempe&s;t of Thunder and Lightning had forced them to retreat.</P>
<Q><L>And &s;hortly fro the Tempe&s;t her to &s;ave;</L>
<L>This noble Quene fled into a Cave.</L>
<L>And with her went this <HI>Aeneas</HI> al&s;o;</L>
<L>I wot not, with them if there went any mo.</L>
<L>The Auctour maketh of it no mention.</L>
<L>And here began the deep affection</L>
<L>Betwixt hem two. this was the fir&s;t morrowe</L>
<L>Of her gladne&s;s, and ginning of her &s;orowe;</L></Q>
<P>The <HI>Rea&s;on</HI> is, that the Lover, appre|<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter">ending no fruition total, no po&s;&s;e&s;&s;ion <GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter">ntire, &s;uppo&s;eth &s;ome further good in <GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter">he object, than what his former enjoy|<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter">ent made him acquainted withall: nor <GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter">oth he propo&s;e to him&s;elf meerly a <GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter">ontinuation of the Good he hath en|<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter">y'd; becau&s;e whoever wi&s;heth the con|<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter">inuation of a Good, con&s;iders it not as a <GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter">ing pre&s;ent, but to come, and con|&s;equently
<PB N="48" REF="38"> as a thing which yet he doth not know; for no man can know what is not. So that the <HI>wandering</HI> Love, which hunts after variety, and the <HI>Con|&s;tant,</HI> that is determined and fixt upon one individual object, are twinns of the &s;ame birth, and have one and the &s;ame original: the latter affecting <HI>Novelty</HI> no le&s;s than the former. Here's all the dif|ference; one pur&s;ues Novelty in a &s;in|gle per&s;on: the other in a multitude: but both are equally in&s;atiate. <HI>O infe|licem &s;tultitiam! O in&s;aniam volunta|riam!</HI> what &s;trange infelicity is this <HI>voti compotem voto non po&s;&s;e frui,</HI> to have, and at the &s;ame time to want? The Covetuous mans cur&s;e, is to po&s;&s;e&s;s and not enjoy: the Lovers greate<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter"> to enjoy and not enjoy; <HI>utpote cui majo+ra, qu&aacute;m quae tota &s;imul indulgeri fas &s;it<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter"> gaudia quaeruntur.</HI> The wi&s;e man (<HI>Ec|cle&s;ia&s;ticus</HI> 30. and 20.) de&s;cribing th<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter"> mi&s;ery of the one, compares it to th<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter"> other: <GAP DESC="foreign">, <GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter"> the <HI>Septuagint.</HI> he beholds his trea&s;ur<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter"> with greedy eyes, and &s;ighs, as an <HI>E<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter">+nuch</HI> embraceth a Virgin and &s;ighs, &s;ig<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter"> mo&s;t bitterly. So our Lover &s;ighs, a<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter"> enjoys, and &s;till &s;ighs. And to &s;pea<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter">
<PB N="49" REF="38"> &s;trictly, in this &s;en&s;e <HI>Hercules</HI> him&s;elf, who deflowred fifty Virgins in a night, was but an <HI>Eunuch</HI> for all that, &s;o we are all, and our Ladies <HI>Virgins;</HI> we embrace and &s;igh; &s;till un&s;atisfied, &s;till coveting, <HI>quod nec a&s;&s;equi, nec &s;cire datur,</HI> more than the nature of the thing can afford.</P>
<P>Notwith&s;tanding this imperfection of our chiefe&s;t &s;olace, I am &s;o far from accu&s;ing Nature of improvidence or unkindne&s;s, in making Love of this compo&s;ition; that on the contrary, I judge it to be an argument of her <HI>Wi&s;|dom</HI> and <HI>Indulgence.</HI> Becau&s;e our plea|&s;ure is endeared by its being incom|plete; and our appetite would &s;oon be turned into loathing, if once &s;atiated. <GAP DESC="foreign">; is a Maxime of the <HI>Indian Gymno&s;ophi&s;t,</HI> in his &s;peech to <HI>Alexander</HI> the <HI>Great,</HI> re|<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter">orded by <HI>Palladius de Bragmanibus,</HI> not long &s;ince &s;et forth by the learned Knight Sir <HI>Edward Bi&s;&s;e, Clarenciux</HI> King at Arms. To this purpo&s;e it was <GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter">o&s;t elegantly &s;aid by a modern Wit, <GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter">riting upon the &s;ame &s;ubject; <HI>huic af|<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter">ectui &s;ollicit&egrave;, pro&s;pexit Numen, dum <GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter">udio immi&s;cuit tremorem &amp; &s;ollicitu|dinem,
<PB N="50" REF="39"> ut delicatior exiret voluptas.</HI> All de&s;ire indeed, is grounded upon want, and want implies imperfection: yet the de&s;ire whereof we are now &s;peaking, being mo&s;tly an effect of fulne&s;s, hath &s;uch a <GAP DESC="foreign">, &s;uch a <HI>complacentia</HI> an|nex'd to it, that few complain of it as an imperfection. Nor are there many of <HI>Plato</HI>'s mind in this particular, who (as <HI>Mar&s;ilius Ficinus</HI> in his life) thought it enough only once to <HI>&s;acrifice to Na|ture.</HI> Mo&s;t are as much pleas'd to po&s;|&s;e&s;s this de&s;ire, as to &s;atisfie it: yea, to &s;peak freely, the de&s;ire is it &s;elf &s;ome &s;atisfaction; <HI>aequali voluptate afficiunt, &amp; quod ade&s;t jam, &amp; quod futurum &s;pe|ratur; nam dulcis de&s;iderii dens interim mordet, &amp; dum periculum facis, &s;peras;</HI> was the merry <HI>Lucians</HI> &s;aying to his <HI>Theomne&s;tes</HI> in <GAP DESC="foreign"> And I am apt to believe, it was upon this very motive, that <HI>Luther</HI> openly profe&s;&s;ed, that with|out the <HI>con&s;olatiuncula creaturulae</HI> he could not live contented.</P>
</DIV2>
<DIV2 N="4" TYPE="section">
<PB N="51" REF="39">
<HEAD>SECT. IV.</HEAD>
<P>YEt more <HI>Aenigmata,</HI> more per|plexing Difficulties in Love. This Affection, which compo&s;eth all other commotions of the &s;oul, which reconciles Men, wild Bea&s;ts, and Phi|lo&s;ophers, is yet at <HI>variance with it &s;elf;</HI> being founded upon a di&s;cordant con|nexion of unlike and a&s;ymbolical na|tures, it maintains its power by a civil Warre; and, like &s;ome pictures, varies its repre&s;entations according to the dif|ferent po&s;itions of the eye that &s;pecu|lates it, on one hand it carries the a&s;|pect of <HI>Fear;</HI> on the other, of <HI>Mag|nanimity:</HI> in one po&s;ture it appears <HI>Blind;</HI> in another, <HI>&s;harp-fighted;</HI> here a <HI>Fool;</HI> there <HI>Wi&s;e, &amp;c.</HI> &s;o that its picture cannot be drawn in one Image: and the &s;pectator may ea&s;ily be mi&s;taken in its lines and features. To be particular.</P>
<P>When you &s;ee a langui&s;hing Lover, who&s;e armes &s;eem &s;o tender and deli|cate, that you think them fit only for embraces; who exhales nothing but odours or &s;ighs; who is &s;trook down with the contraction of a brow, and wounded to the heart with the di&s;|dainful
<PB N="52" REF="40"> glance of an eye: take heed notwith&s;tanding, how you reproach him as a <HI>&s;oft, effeminate</HI> and <HI>pu&s;illanimous</HI> per&s;on. For, realy he is <HI>hardy, daring</HI> and <HI>adventurous;</HI> he repines not at the tediou&s;ne&s;s or cold of nightly vigils; he inures him&s;elf to difficulties; like <HI>Cae&s;ar</HI> po&s;ting from <HI>Rome</HI> into <HI>Germany,</HI> he de&s;pi&s;es the ob&s;tacles of the <HI>Alps,</HI> of fro&s;t and &s;now and overflowing ri|vers; he exerci&s;es his fortitude with &s;ubmi&s;&s;ively undergoing accumulated injuries; he defies dangers, nay, makes it a plea&s;ure to create them in his ima|gination, and is gratified with the en|countre of adver&s;e accidents, as favours to his zeal, and arguments of his de|votion, he neglects not only dre&s;s, but health; and, like <HI>Candidates</HI> for St. <HI>Peters</HI> chair, or the Dukedom of <HI>Venice,</HI> thinks it advantagious to look faint, pale and meagre.</P>
<P>Nor ought you to accu&s;e him of <HI>Stu|pidity,</HI> though you ob&s;erve him to &s;uf|fer Contempts and Affronts from his proud <HI>Stratonice,</HI> without ju&s;t re&s;ent|ment. For, he (be you well a&s;&s;ured) is wholly tran&s;migrated into &s;oul, be|come all &s;pirit, retreated into that Aetherial particle of Fire, which is im|pa&s;&s;ible,
<PB N="53" REF="40"> and can not be touch'd. If this &s;eem le&s;s credible, be plea&s;'d to con&s;i|der, it is the Religion of Love to over|come evil with good, to extingui&s;h the fire of malice by the brighter flame of Charity; the Philo&s;ophy of this endea|ring Pa&s;&s;ion, to &s;ubdue hatred by &s;ub|mi&s;&s;ion and ob&s;equiou&s;ne&s;s. Be&s;ides, our good-natured Gallant entertains, neglects &amp; &s;corn, not with in&s;en&s;ibility, but <HI>di&s;cretion:</HI> as well under&s;tanding, that injuries as they fade and die of them&s;elves, when bravely de&s;pi&s;ed; &s;o they pa&s;s into Benefits, when received with gentlene&s;s and humanity. <HI>A flint is broken on a feather-bed.</HI></P>
<P>Will you charge him with <HI>Blindne&s;s,</HI> becau&s;e he di&s;cerns not the defects, the &s;pots of his Mi&s;tre&s;s; but takes the&s;e for &s;tarres, and tho&s;e for ornaments; and by a mo&s;t obliging error gilds over her faults with the title of the neere&s;t virtues? Herein certainly you are no e|qual Arbiter. You require a Cen&s;or, not a Lover; and in the place of true affection, you expect a &s;evere judge|ment. It is a &s;ign of ill-nature in you, thus to envy him the plea&s;ure of an error, wherein he thinks him&s;elf more happy. Is it not lawful for him to impo&s;e
<PB N="54" REF="41"> upon him&s;elf by &s;uch innocent fraud? to form in his mind a more augu&s;t image of her, whom he is re&s;olved to contem|plate and adore? we account it an ex|cellency in a Painter, to make his pie|ces fairer than the Originals; and among the many prai&s;es de&s;ervedly a&s;cribed to our incomparable <HI>Mr. Lely,</HI> this is not the lea&s;t, that his curious pencil can at plea&s;ure not only follow the fine&s;t lines of Nature, but &s;weeten them; at once both imitate and excell the life. Why then do you condemn the &s;ame in a Lover? it is indeed an exce&s;s in both; of Art in one; of Affection in the other: and, in my opinion, equally commendable. Imagination is unconfined even by Na|ture: and the very Extravagances there|of in love have been approved by <HI>Venus</HI> her&s;elf, in that &s;he infu&s;ed warmth and life into <HI>Pygmalions Eburnea.</HI> That, you'll &s;ay was a fiction: yet the Mytho|logy may &s;erve to ju&s;tifie our <HI>Inamorato.</HI> The life given to that Statue by the Godde&s;s, was no other than the grace and beauty of the Figure, which <HI>Appel|les,</HI> in his Pictures called the <HI>Venus;</HI> which made it live in the e&s;timation of tho&s;e times, and admiration of po&s;terity. <HI>Lucian's Panthea</HI> (in <GAP DESC="foreign">) likewi&s;e, it
<PB N="55" REF="41"> is probable, was no other than an Ima|ginary or Romantique Lady, made up of all the rare idea's of Beauty, and ad|mirable endowments of mind, whereof humane nature is capable; for, his be&s;t Interpreters are at a lo&s;s in their conje|ctures, what divine Prince&s;s that was, who&s;e glorious perfections he de&s;igned to celebrate under the veil of that Name: yet even learned and grave men are &s;o highly plea&s;ed with the de&s;crip|tion and Character, that they equally admire his Wit, and her accompli&s;h|ments, and &s;carcely ab&s;tain from rival|ling him in both. If &s;uch admiration then, and applau&s;e be due to <HI>Lucian</HI>'s Fancy; why do you deride that of our <HI>Inamorato,</HI> who thereby endeavours to form to him&s;elf &s;uch another <HI>Panthea?</HI> If he deceive him&s;elf, 'tis to his own misfortune, not your prejudice; yet how can we call that a misfortune, which he (the be&s;t judge in the ca&s;e) e&s;teems a Felicity?</P>
<P>But all this while the <HI>Dimne&s;s</HI> &s;eems to be in your Under&s;tanding, not in his &s;ight. His eyes are not put out, but only covered with a thin vail, through which they &s;ee more &s;ecurely, more cleerly; as we behold the Sun be&s;t
<PB N="56" REF="42"> through a skreen of clouds. You are to imagine them only contracted, as tho&s;e to take aim, that they may di&s;cern more accutely and di&s;tinctly. Being fixt upon one object, and that a bright and charming one, they do not indeed &s;o plainly perceive other things; yet not that they are weak, but becau&s;e they loath them, and will not endure to be diverted: which is not to be dim-&s;ight|ed, but to &s;ee <HI>too much.</HI> Again, if to Philo&s;ophize, be nothing but to con|template <HI>Idea's;</HI> then to love, is to be a Philo&s;opher. Yea, if every man loves &s;o much as he under&s;tands (which was <HI>Plato</HI>'s opinion) then dotage in love is an argument of Science.</P>
<P>You are too blame, therefore, if you think vehemency of de&s;ire to be a &s;ort of <HI>Madne&s;s;</HI> or take our Lover for one <HI>Infatuated,</HI> only becau&s;e his actions &s;eem extravagant. Alas! what you call <HI>Follies</HI> in him, are the <HI>My&s;teries</HI> of a Divine Fury, or Enthu&s;ia&s;m. Love in|&s;pires into the Mind a new Faculty of acting by a more certain and compen|dious way, than that of Ratiocination: all his Rea&s;on, like that art by which &s;piders weave their curious nets, and Bees Govern their Commonwealth, is
<PB N="57" REF="42"> <HI>In&s;tinct.</HI> His hand is not guided by the eye, when he &s;hoots at human hearts; but by the Divinity of his <HI>Genius:</HI> and therefore, though he never takes aim, he never mi&s;&s;es the mark.</P>
<Q><L>Impotens flammis &s;imul &amp; &s;agittis,</L>
<L>I&s;te la&s;civus puer ac renidens</L>
<L>Tela quam certo moderatur</L>
<L>&mdash; arcu!</L></Q>
<P>While we poor mortals regulate our affairs by Rea&s;on, which is a la|borious faculty, and obnoxious to error; it is the priviledge of his Divini|ty, to be carried on by a quick and mo&s;t certain <GAP DESC="foreign">, or <HI>force,</HI> to all his ends; and, like the <HI>Supreme Being,</HI> he is wi&s;e without deliberation or coun&s;el. It is not then the prerogative of <HI>Jove</HI> alone, <HI>&s;apere &amp; &s;imul amare,</HI> to be wi&s;e and to love at once. For if wi&s;dome be, <HI>&s;cire quid &s;it optimum;</HI> then certainly a Lover is al&s;o wi&s;e, becau&s;e he knows whats be&s;t; <HI>aliud enim</HI> (as <HI>Senecca) amare prae|ter optimum, nefas e&s;t.</HI> If after all this you will not allow him to be in his wits, pray con&s;ider what &s;ubtle devices, am|bu&s;hes, &s;tratagems, and artifices he in|vents and makes u&s;e of, to take in that &s;trong and by open force impregnable fortre&s;s of his Mi&s;tre&s;&s;es heart. Ca&s;t
<PB N="58" REF="43"> your eye upon tho&s;e troops of Virgins, that are daily led Captives, as trophies of their Lovers wit and cunning: all which were of nece&s;&s;ity to be deceived, before they could be taken, and by ar|tificial violence to be drawn to their own de&s;ires. For, they love more, to be ingeniou&s;ly beguil'd, than to be lo|ved; and the readie&s;t way to bring them into the circle of your embraces, is fir&s;t to circumvent them with pretty fallaces and amorous treacheries. Now he that can with neat addre&s;s, unper|ceived &s;nares, and harmle&s;s frauds bring this to pa&s;s; either he is no <HI>Fool,</HI> or I am one to think him otherwi&s;e, and &s;o was <HI>Virgil</HI> when he &s;aid &mdash; <HI>quis fallere po&s;sit amantem?</HI> &amp; <HI>Mantuan,</HI> when he &s;aid
<Q>Nam&abque; dolos in&s;pirat amor, fraude&s;&abque; mini&s;trat.</Q> Nay, &s;o far is this Pa&s;&s;ion from darken|ing the under&s;tanding, and ca&s;ting a mi&s;t over the Eye of the Mind, that it rather <HI>illuminates</HI> and clears it. Wit|ne&s;s that plea&s;ant Story in <HI>Boccace</HI> (which he borrowed from the <HI>Greeks,</HI> and which <HI>Beroaldus</HI> hath tran&s;lated in|to <HI>Latin,</HI> and <HI>Beblius</HI> turned into ele|gant ver&s;e) of <HI>Cymon</HI> and <HI>Ephigenia.</HI>
<PB N="59" REF="43"> This <HI>Cymon,</HI> the Son of a Governor of <HI>Cyprus,</HI> was naturally &s;o very a <HI>Fool,</HI> &s;o &s;tupid an indocil an A&s;s, that his Fa|ther being a&s;hamed of his rude and ideot-like behaviour, &s;ent him to be kept at a remote and &s;olitary Grange of his in the Country. Where he walk|ing alone, as his cu&s;tome was, by chance e&s;pied a beautiful young Gentlewoman, <HI>Iphigenia,</HI> a Burgoma&s;ters Daughter of <HI>Cyprus,</HI> as &s;he lay fa&s;t a&s;leep with her Maid, in the cool &s;hade of a little Thic|ket, with no envious cover, but a clean tran&s;parent Smock, that rather betray'd than conceal'd her excellent &s;hape and whiter skin. At this &s;urpri&s;ing vi&s;ion poor &s;imple <HI>Cymon</HI> was a&s;toni&s;ht; he &s;tood leaning on his &s;taff (for his legs were now unable alone to &s;upport his trembling body) gaping on this female Angel, unmoveable, and in a trance of wonder and amazement. Upon which Love immediately &s;ucceeding, and in a moment with its cele&s;tial raies di&s;pel|ling all the foggs of his cold and phleg|matick brain, yea in&s;piring him as it were with a new and ingenious &s;oul; he rowzd up him&s;elf; reflected upon the mi&s;ery and di&s;honour of his late condi|tion, and put on a &s;prightly re&s;olution
<PB N="60" REF="44"> to pur&s;ue his Nymph with Court&s;hip and Gallantry, worthy her admirable Form, and his own noble extraction. To this purpo&s;e he the next day fol|lowed his retreating Fairy to the City, put on a becoming habit, and with it a graceful and obliging Mine: and ani|mated with hope, indu&s;triou&s;ly imploy'd him&s;elf in learning Mu&s;ick, dancing, fencing, and acquiring all other good qualities requi&s;ite in a Gentleman. So that in a very &s;hort time he was tran&s;|formed from an <HI>Ideot,</HI> a <HI>Bartholmew-Cokes,</HI> a Clown, to a <HI>Bon E&s;prit,</HI> a <HI>Virtuo&s;o,</HI> a <HI>Truwitt,</HI> in a word, to the mo&s;t accompli&s;h'd Gallant of the times: nor was <HI>Iphigenia</HI> &s;o invincible to &s;uch a&s;&s;aulting perfections, as not by marri|age of him to appropriate to her &s;elf the fruits of the Miraculous <HI>Metamor|pho&s;is</HI> the vi&s;ion of her Beauties had wrought in him. Such power hath the &s;ight of a fair Lady naked to cau&s;e Love; &s;uch power hath Love to cure the Lethargy of the Soul, and awaken it into Wit and Galantry, making a <HI>Heros</HI> of a <HI>Sott,</HI> in fewer minutes than the Writers of Romances can in years. I &s;ay, a <HI>Heros;</HI> becau&s;e the &s;ame <HI>Cymon</HI> proved al&s;o famous at <HI>Arms,</HI> fought
<PB N="61" REF="44"> &s;undry combats, performed many he|roical exploits, and alwaies had Fortune for his Second: the &s;ame flame that en|lightned his under&s;tanding, having hea|ted his blood al&s;o, and kindled Cou|rage and Magnanimity in his heart.</P>
<P>At this you will the le&s;s wonder, if you remember what you have read in <HI>Carda<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter"> (lib.</HI> 2. <HI>de Sap.</HI>) who there occa|&s;ionally recounting many of the admi|rable effects of Love, &s;ays thus. <HI>Ex vilibus genero&s;es efficere &s;olet, ex timidis audaces, ex avaris &s;plendides, exagre&s;ti|bus civiles, ex crudelibus man&s;uetos, ex impiis religio&s;os, ex &s;ordidis nitidos &amp; cultos, ex duris mi&s;ericordes, ex mutis eloquentes, &amp;c.</HI> If you contemn this authority, I hope you will not di&s;pute the Example of <HI>Sir Walter Manny</HI> in <HI>Edward</HI> the <HI>thirds</HI> time, who being &s;tuck full of Ladies favours, fought like a Dragon: nor that of <HI>Ferdinand</HI> King of <HI>Spain,</HI> who (as <HI>Ca&s;tilio</HI> thinks) had never conquer'd <HI>Granado,</HI> had not Queen <HI>I&s;abella</HI> and her Ladies been pre&s;ent at the Siege, <HI>it cannot be expre&s;|&s;ed,</HI> &s;ayes our Author, <HI>what courage the Spani&s;h Knights derived from the raies of the Ladies eyes; a handful of amorous Spaniards overcoming a multude of
<PB N="62" REF="45"> Moors.</HI> Every true Lover is wi&s;e, ju&s;t, temperate and valiant, &s;aith <HI>Agatho (lib.</HI> 3. <HI>de Aulico)</HI> who doubts not therefore, but if a Prince had an Army of &s;uch Lovers, he might &s;oon con|quer the whole world; except he met with the like Army of Inamorato's to oppo&s;e it. <HI>Plato</HI> then had rea&s;on, when (5. <HI>de Legibus</HI>) he would have women follow the Camp, to be both Spectators and Encouragers of noble Actions: it being his opinion, <HI>(in convivio)</HI> that <HI>Mars</HI> him&s;elf borrowed mo&s;t of his va|lour from his love of <HI>Venus.</HI></P>
</DIV2>
<DIV2 N="5" TYPE="section">
<HEAD>SECT. V.</HEAD>
<P>HAving beheld this <HI>Proteus,</HI> Love, in &s;ome of tho&s;e various &s;hapes, wherein it u&s;ually appears; you are (I pre&s;ume) thereupon inclined to think it may be no le&s;s <HI>uncon&s;tant</HI> to its <HI>Object,</HI> than it &s;eems to be to <HI>it &s;elf.</HI> To ob|viate this &s;candalous mi&s;take, therefore, I find my &s;elf obliged in the next place to evince, that the Judgments of Love are, like tho&s;e of Fate, <HI>unalterable</HI> and <HI>perpetual;</HI> that it is <HI>con&s;tant</HI> and <HI>immu|table.</HI> He who can cea&s;e to love whom he hath once loved, doe's but dream he
<PB N="63" REF="45"> loved. For the conjunction of true Lo|vers hearts, like &s;olemn Matrimony, admits of no divorce. When the Virgin <HI>Zone</HI> is untied, a knot is in the &s;ame in|&s;tant knit, that can never be di&s;&s;olved; &s;ometimes, indeed, as the <HI>Gordian,</HI> it may be cut a&s;under. <HI>Death</HI> may be the <HI>Alexander</HI> to di&s;cind, but cannot untie it. Love cea&s;es not, though what is loved hath cea&s;'d to be. When your Turtle hath molted all her beautiful feathers, and is grown old; you &s;hall not cea&s;e to think her &s;till the &s;ame, &s;till amiable and youthful: and what of her charming features time hath impai|red, your affection will continually re|new; the plea&s;ing Form now lo&s;t to your eye, &s;hall be perpetually found fre&s;h and lively in your mind. The fidelity of Remembrance &s;hall countervail the cruelty of Age: which may by a natural Metamorpho&s;is render your Wife a &s;tranger to her former &s;elf, but hath not the more tyrannical power to alienate her from you. Nay, when <HI>Fate</HI> &s;hall have torn her from your armes, even then &s;hall you &s;till retain and enjoy her in your imagination; you &s;hall think her not dead, but only <HI>ab&s;ent,</HI> and as often as you mix embraces with her
<PB N="64" REF="46"> kind Gho&s;t, you &s;hall deny her to have <HI>peri&s;h'd.</HI> Love &s;hall make you triumph over Mortality; and in the ardor of your &s;piritual fruition, you &s;hall bid defiance to De&s;tiny, crying out, <HI>Though you have &s;eperated us,</HI> O Fatal Si&s;ters! <HI>you have not divided us; yet we conver&s;e together, yet we are a pair, from others you have ta|ken away the Woman, from me not &s;o much as her &s;hadow. While &s;he lived we u&s;ed but one Soul; now but one Body. Her Spirit is received into my brea&s;t, and there remains fixt, as in its proper A&s;te|ri&s;m and Heaven.</HI></P>
<P>Thus Love &s;eems to perform i<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter">s cour&s;e, as the Sun, in a Circle, alwaies returning to the po<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter">nt whence it &s;et forth; &s;o ending in it &s;elf, as alwayes to begin. For, no man loves, who can e|ver be able to love either, le&s;s, or not at all. Of love there can be no end, becau&s;e no &s;atiety. Like Heaven and a contemplative Mind, it is perpe|tually in motion, never at re&s;t: yet that labour doth not weary, but refre&s;h. Thus the end of one benefit, is a degree to|ward another: and the Soul provoked by a double ardor, cheri&s;hes fir&s;t the per|&s;on, and then its own obligations; <HI>ad a|moris perennitatem &s;ufficit ama&s;&s;e.</HI></P>
<PB N="65" REF="46">
<P>Notwith&s;tanding Love be thus im|mortal, as being the proper affection of an immortal Soul, and devoted to an eternal Object, Good: yet can I not de|ny, but it is a kind of <HI>Death.</HI> For, who is ignorant that Lovers die as often as they ki&s;s, or bid adieu: exhaling their Souls upon each others lips. Like <HI>Apol|lo's</HI> Prie&s;ts po&s;&s;e&s;&s;ed with the &s;pirit of <HI>Divination,</HI> they are tran&s;ported out of them&s;elves; their life is a perpetual <HI>Ex|ta&s;ie;</HI> they deve&s;t them&s;elves of their own Souls, that they may be more hap|pily fill'd with others. I believe <HI>Py|thagoras</HI> his <HI>Metemp&s;ycho&s;is</HI> or Tran&s;mi|gration of his Soul, when he loved, not when he philo&s;ophiz'd. At &s;ight of a fair and well built hou&s;e, our &s;ouls, like delicate and proud Ladies, grow weary of ther own homely dwellings, and are unquiet until removed thither: becau&s;e they were not born, they affect to live, yea to be born again therein. Longing for the Elyzium of their Mi|&s;tre&s;s brea&s;t, the only Paradi&s;e for Lo|vers Gho&s;ts, they break the pri&s;on of their own, and anticipate the delivery of Death, and fly thither, as to the place of their eternal man&s;ion. Who|ever thou art, that dare&s;t to doubt of
<PB N="66" REF="47"> the&s;e excur&s;ions of amorous Souls; let me advi&s;e thee attentively to ob&s;erve, how the Soul of a Lover almo&s;t vi&s;ibly flies to that part of the body, which approches neere&s;t to his <HI>Panthea.</HI> If they joyn hands, you may perceive their &s;ouls to be <HI>palpably</HI> di&s;tributed in|to their fingers, mutually to take hold, and entwine each with other. If they &s;tand &s;ide by &s;ide, their bowels yern, their hearts leap for joy, their &s;pirits flow in crowds into their brea&s;ts, and rai&s;ing &s;trong palpitations, &s;alute each other, as Clowns u&s;e to do, with <HI>thumps;</HI> as if they &s;trove to di&s;&s;olve the liga|ments of life and intermix embraces. What kind of <HI>Magique</HI> is that, by which the blood is made to overflow the cheeks with crim&s;on waves, at the pre|&s;ence of a dear friend; &s;pringing up out of the Arteries of the wounded Heart, as an index of its &s;ufferings, no otherwi&s;e than the blood of a murdered man is &s;aid to flow forth afre&s;h, to betray the Ho|micide? only with this difference, that the blood, in the ca&s;e of <HI>Murder,</HI> flows, I know not by what in&s;tinct, for <HI>re|venge:</HI> but in a <HI>Lovers</HI> blu&s;hes, for <HI>cure</HI> and <HI>remedy</HI> of his harm. See, how gree|dily his &s;oul catcheth the &s;ounds of her
<PB N="67" REF="47"> voice; and retired wholly into his ears, &s;tands there watching every accent, nay is converted into the &s;en&s;e of Hearing, or rather into the very &s;ounds it re|ceives. In exchanging words, they ex|change &s;pirits: and immigrate into the wi&s;hes they utter. See, how their wan|dring &s;ouls in a continual efflux &s;ally forth at their encontring eyes; and con|&s;uming them&s;elves in greedy looks, leave their bodies faint and livele&s;s, ma|ny times falling into &s;woons and <HI>Sync<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter">|pes.</HI> To Lovers it is the &s;ame thing, to <HI>&s;peak,</HI> and to <HI>expire;</HI> the &s;ame, to <HI>&s;ee,</HI> and to <HI>extramit them&s;elves</HI> by the eye; to gaze, and to pa&s;s into the object. In them the <HI>Platonic</HI> opinion, that &s;ight is performed by <HI>Extrami&s;sion</HI> of rays holds true. Thus the <HI>whole</HI> Man ha&s;t|ning to get forth, crowds one while into the Ear, another into the Eye, &s;ometimes into the Lips: <HI>&s;uavia dans Agathoni, animam ip&s;e in labra tenebam;</HI> was <HI>Plato</HI>'s confe&s;&s;ion of him&s;elf; li|ving only in that part, wherein he at pre|&s;ent enjoys his Fellow, his other and better <HI>half.</HI> Thus Love <HI>epitomizeth</HI> Human nature; compelling Men to breath and live more <HI>contractedly;</HI> and (like &s;ome imperfect Animals) to be
<PB N="68" REF="48"> content with <HI>one</HI> &s;en&s;e alone. But thus to reduce him from a nece&s;&s;ity of many Organs or In&s;truments of life, &s;en&s;e and motion, to a capacity of exi&s;ting more delightfully by one &s;ingle Organ; is not to maim Man, but render him more <HI>perfect</HI> and <HI>divine.</HI> We will therefore, if you plea&s;e, conclude this <HI>Paragraph</HI> with a pertinent Stanza of that incom|parable Critique in Love, old <HI>Chaucer:</HI> who in mo&s;t lively and never-vading colours painting the &s;urprize and a&s;to|ni&s;hmen of <HI>Troilus,</HI> (till then a Wo|man-hater) at fir&s;t &s;ight of the fair <HI>Cre|&s;eide,</HI> in her mourning habit, &s;parkling like a Diamond &s;et in Jet; &s;aith thus.</P>
<Q><L>Lo, he that lete him &s;elven &s;o conning,</L>
<L>And &s;corned hem that loves paines drien,</L>
<L>Was &s;till unware that love had his dwelling</L>
<L>Within the &s;ubtel &s;treams of her eyen;</L>
<L>That &s;odainly him thought he felt dien,</L>
<L>Right with her loke, the &s;pirit in his herte.</L>
<L>Ble&s;&s;ed be love, that thus can folke converte.</L></Q>
</DIV2>
<DIV2 N="6" TYPE="section">
<PB N="69" REF="48">
<HEAD>SECT. VI.</HEAD>
<P>IN &s;uch &s;piritual efforts and &s;allies, the <HI>Body</HI> indeed &s;uffers a manife&s;t, though a grateful <HI>detriment;</HI> but (what's a won|der even for wi&s;e men) the <HI>&s;oul</HI> acquires <HI>Augmentation.</HI> For, as if &s;he were al&s;o definable by <HI>Exten&s;ion,</HI> being by a cer|tain <HI>expan&s;ion</HI> more diffu&s;ed than before, &s;he that was originally the Gue&s;t of one brea&s;t, become's thenceforth the Go|verne&s;s of two. Confu&s;ed betwixt two bodies, &s;he &s;carcely knows for which &s;he was fir&s;t formed: but as it were &s;u&s;|pended betwixt both, &s;he perfectly in|forms neither. By one Law of Nature &s;he is confined to one body; by ano|ther Law of the &s;ame Nature, <HI>Love,</HI> &s;he is carried forth to animate and po&s;|&s;e&s;s another, which &s;he &s;trives to make equally her own: &s;o that in this ca&s;e you are obliged to acknowledge both a <HI>Di|minution</HI> and an <HI>Increment</HI> of her So|veraignty. Every <HI>Individual</HI> in love, is thenceforth a <HI>Number;</HI> carrying al|ways with him, as <HI>Antipheron</HI> did, <HI>an|other Him&s;elf:</HI> if at lea&s;t he may pro|perly be &s;aid to be a Number, whom one computes, whom one di&s;tingui&s;hes,
<PB N="70" REF="49"> whom the word <HI>Homo</HI> alone expre&s;&s;es; an <HI>Hermaphrodite</HI> and yet no <HI>Mon&s;ter.</HI> By a fruitful error, to men in Love, as well as to men in Drink, all objects ap|pear <HI>double:</HI> yet no otherwi&s;e than the eyes them&s;elves are double, which have one and the &s;ame motion, one and the &s;ame &s;ight. Here you &s;ee a kind of <HI>pene|tration</HI> of <HI>Dimen&s;ions,</HI> two per&s;ons &s;o clo&s;ely embracing, as to fill up the &s;ame &s;pace, as to become one, as to de&s;troy their embraces; for, embraces imply a difference. While, like <HI>Ovids</HI> Herma|phrodite, <HI>Salmacis,</HI> the per&s;on court|ing, and the per&s;on courted are one and the &s;ame; he knows not whether he love, or is beloved more truely; nor doth he enjoy, but is converted into his wi&s;h. Ah, <HI>Cupid,</HI> thy very bounty is mockery; thy favour, like that of Gran|dees in Court, hypocritical: while thou hide&s;t within my brea&s;t, what I require to be in my arms. Thou art too propitious in making us one: rather di|vide us, that we may feel our &s;elves to be what we would be, different in &s;ex, one in will and de&s;ire. <HI>Ob&s;tat cupienti, nimium frui.</HI> To have her made the &s;ame with my &s;elf, whom I covet only as a Partner of my joys, is to prevent
<PB N="71" REF="49"> them. This exce&s;s of kindne&s;s, this a&s;&s;imilation of another to my &s;elf, makes me think, I do not embrace my Friend, but a &s;hadow; which always treads in my foot&s;teps, and imitates all my mo|tions. Stand farther from me, O my deare&s;t, who art nearer to me than I am to my &s;elf; that I may enjoy that plea|&s;ure, which con&s;i&s;teth in the knowledge of a Di&s;tinction.</P>
<P>But, alas! I forget my &s;elf, and wi&s;h a Contradiction. The &s;ame power that makes one of two, makes al&s;o two of one. The Arithmetick of Love is per|formed a&s;wel by <HI>&s;ub&s;traction,</HI> as by <HI>Mul|tiplication:</HI> nor do we think that &s;ub|&s;traction a lo&s;s, but a <HI>Compendium;</HI> un|le&s;s it be more advantage to have our &s;trengths <HI>collected,</HI> than <HI>extended.</HI> E|very thing (you know) is &s;o much the more <HI>perfect,</HI> by how much the more <HI>&s;imple.</HI> To be comprehended within no &s;pace or number, is the prerogative of the <HI>Deity:</HI> and what is <HI>Be&s;t</HI> and <HI>Highe&s;t,</HI> can be but <HI>one.</HI> Love, there|fore, as it hath this Divine perfection of <HI>Unity;</HI> &s;o hath it likewi&s;e that other of <HI>Self-communication.</HI> For, what is per|fect, is uncapable of addition or encrea&s;e otherwi&s;e than by Diffu&s;ion or Di&s;tri|bution
<PB N="72" REF="50"> of it &s;elf. The only U&s;ury of Love, is to make others rich. This li|berality of conferring ones &s;elf upon an|other, is the only good Mankind can ju&s;tly call his own, and the fir&s;t Dona|tive of Heaven. Other things are the gifts of Fortune, which we can no more give, than the light of the Sun, of the common aer; nay, which we have &s;carcely right enough to appropriate to our &s;elves. Whoever loves, then, comes neerer to the <HI>Divine Nature;</HI> as placing his chief delight in doing good, in making another happy. Hence it is, that as Men of youthful and &s;trong Bo|dies are naturally de&s;irous to beget i&s;&s;ue of their Loins: &s;o tho&s;e of great and vigorous abilities of Mind feel in them|&s;elves a certain noble ardor, that incites them to beget children of their <HI>under|&s;tanding,</HI> a praegnancy of the <HI>Brain,</HI> and mo&s;t cha&s;te Lu&s;t of propagating <HI>virtue;</HI> which is commonly named <HI>Platonique Love.</HI> Wherefore, Love is, in this re|&s;pect at lea&s;t, &s;o far from proceed|ing from <HI>want</HI> (as <HI>Mr. Hobs</HI> derives it) that on the contrary it is the effect of <HI>wealth</HI> and <HI>abundance.</HI> Nor ought we longer to complain of Nature, as clo&s;e|handed and niggardly in her Gifts to
<PB N="73" REF="50"> Mankind, &s;ince &s;he hath been &s;o indul|gent and bountiful in in&s;tituting this ingenious <HI>commerce,</HI> whereby every one both communicates him&s;elf, and receives another (for, by Love we do not &s;ell, but <HI>exchange</HI> our&s;elves) yea transferrs into his own trea&s;ury whatever is excel|lent and divine in another; being a|dopted heir to anothers riches, he be|comes more accompli&s;hed by endow|ment, and in another &s;upplies his own defects. This <HI>Munificence</HI> of <HI>Love</HI> in communicating whatever it thinks good and delectable, is evident even in the de|light of <HI>&s;en&s;ual Fruition,</HI> which being a plea&s;ure con&s;i&s;ting in a conjunction not only of two Per&s;ons of different &s;exes, but al&s;o of two different Appetites in each Per&s;on; <HI>viz.</HI> to <HI>plea&s;e,</HI> and to be <HI>plea&s;ed;</HI> and the former of the&s;e two Ap|petites being an Affection of the Mind, con&s;i&s;ting in the Imagination of power to plea&s;e: it nece&s;&s;arily follows, that each party becomes &s;o much the more joy'd or plea&s;ed in him&s;elf, by how much the more able he finds him to plea&s;e or cau&s;e joy in the other. So that they rival each other in the <HI>Communi|cation</HI> of delight. The &s;ame may be &s;aid al&s;o of <HI>Platonique</HI> Love, or generous
<PB N="74" REF="51"> <HI>Charity;</HI> the delight whereof con&s;i&s;ting likewi&s;e in the exerci&s;e of ones <HI>power</HI> or ability to enrich the under&s;tanding of an|other, and impraegnate his Mind with the &s;eeds of Virtue: the <HI>Socrates</HI> mu&s;t be &s;o much the more delighted in his own Mind, by how much the more he finds the <HI>Alcibiades</HI> better'd by his in&s;tructi|ons. Here's all the difference, the delight of <HI>&s;en&s;ual</HI> Love depending partly upon the powers of the Body, is therefore fu|rious, &s;hort of duration, and &s;ubject to decay: the <HI>Platonique</HI> depending &s;olely upon the Mind, who&s;e powers are per|petual, is therefore calme, of one equal tenour, and everla&s;ting.</P>
<P>Here finding my boat unexpectedly brought upon the ble&s;&s;ed coa&s;t of the <HI>New Atlantis,</HI> or terre&s;trial Paradice, <HI>FRIENDSHIP,</HI> where the aer is perpe|tually clear and &s;<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter">rene, the &s;ea pacific, and the land &s;pontaneou&s;ly fertil; a place wherein nothing is found but <HI>Con&s;olations,</HI> who&s;e King, <HI>Altabin,</HI> is a wi&s;e man; who&s;e peaceful inhabitants are rich in their contempt of all pecuniary Commerce within them&s;elves; where the <HI>Tirzan,</HI> of true <HI>Father of the Vine, Love,</HI> compo&s;es all differences, and ex|tingui&s;hes all animo&s;ities; and where
<PB N="75" REF="51"> the Sons and Daughters of <HI>Ben&s;alem</HI> live in perfect amity and concord: be|ing come, I &s;ay, to this happy Port, give me leave my <HI>dear Friend,</HI> here to ca&s;t anchor, and end my voyage. I had de&s;igned to &s;ail farther, to di&s;cover what that wonderful <HI>&s;omething</HI> in <HI>Love</HI> is, which we ob&s;erve to be more pow|erful than all Calamites, more augu&s;t than Honour, more &s;plendid than Ri|ches, more delightful than Plea&s;ures, more &s;overeign than Empire, more ve|nerable than Autority, more charming than Beauty, more illu&s;trious than Wi&s;|dom; that for which we contemn and trample upon all tho&s;e glorious things, &s;o much either feared, or adored by the world; yea, for which alone we do not contemn, but e&s;teem and wor&s;hip them: that, which &s;o fully plea&s;eth alone, that even the vile&s;t things plea&s;e for the &s;ake thereof; which enjoye's this privilege of <HI>Maje&s;ty,</HI> that nothing can turn to its di&s;honour; which is above the reach of Infamy, and can hone&s;t even vice it &s;elf. But, perceiving the Needle of my Co|gitations, no le&s;s than that of my Af|fections, to fix it &s;elf on that point of the Compa&s;s, wherein you and I &s;eek for Happine&s;s in this life, our con&s;tant
<PB N="76" REF="52"> <HI>Friend&s;hip:</HI> I confe&s;s, my Mind is &s;o intirely taken up with the ravi&s;hing Contemplation thereof, that I cannot at pre&s;ent divert it to pro&s;ecute what I intended to &s;peak, concerning &s;eve|ral other admirable and &s;tupendious ef|fects of this <HI>Heroick Pa&s;sion;</HI> whereof I have here drawn no perfect Picture, but only a rude <HI>Scetch,</HI> or rather a few gro&s;s and confu&s;ed <HI>lines,</HI> by way of &s;upple|ment to Your more artificial Repre&s;en|tation of it, in your <HI>Ephe&s;tan Matron.</HI> Let us, therefore, now (if you plea&s;e) goe a&s;hoar, and repo&s;e our &s;elves in the newly mention'd I&s;land of <HI><GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter">en&s;alem,</HI> (where though we be not advanced to the honour of being Fellows or Bre|thren of <HI>Salomons Hou&s;e;</HI> yet we may be well received into the <HI>Hou&s;e of &s;tran|gers</HI>) re&s;erving what remains untouch|ed of our Argument for another diver|ti&s;ement; and in the mean time, with our dearly beloved <HI>Don Geffrey,</HI>
<Q><LG>
<L>Be&s;eeching every Lady bright of hewe,</L>
<L>And every gentil woman, what &s;he be,</L>
<L>Albeit that our Matrons were untrue,</L>
<L>That for that gilte ye be not wroth with me.</L>
<L>Ye may in other Bokes their gilte &s;e.</L>
<L>And gladde<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter"> I would write, if that ye le&s;&s;e;</L>
<L><HI>Penelopes</HI> truth, and faith of good Alce&s;te.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<PB N="77" REF="52">
<L>Ne &s;aie I nat this all only for the&s;e men,</L>
<L>But mo&s;t for women that betraied be</L>
<L>Through fals folke (God yeve hem &s;orowe, amen)</L>
<L>That with great witte and &s;ubtiltie</L>
<L>Betraien you; and this meveth me</L>
<L>To &s;peke, and in effect you all I praie,</L>
<L>Bethe ware of men, and herkeneth what I &s;ay.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>But God forbid, but a woman can</L>
<L>Ben as true and loving as a man.</L>
<L>For it is deintie to us men to finde.</L>
<L>A man, that can in love be trewe and kind.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>Thus endeth now my tale, and God us &s;ende</L>
<L>Taling enough unto our lives ende. &para;</L>
</LG></Q></P>
</DIV2>
<TRAILER>FINIS.</TRAILER>
</DIV1>
</BODY>
<BACK>
<DIV1 TYPE="publisher's advertisement">
<PB REF="53">
<HEAD>Some Books printed for <HI>Henry Herringman</HI> at the <HI>Anchor</HI> in the Lower walk of the <HI>New-Exchange.</HI></HEAD>
<LIST>
<HEAD>Folio's</HEAD>
<ITEM>Dr. <HI>William Howel</HI>'s Hi&s;tory of the World.</ITEM>
<ITEM><HI>Pietro Della-Vals</HI> Travels.</ITEM>
<ITEM><HI>A&s;trea,</HI> a Romance; 1, 2, and 3 volume.</ITEM>
<ITEM><HI>Clelia,</HI> a Romance; 5th volume.</ITEM>
<ITEM><HI>Dom John de Ca&s;tro.</HI></ITEM>
<ITEM><HI>Grand Scipio</HI> a Romance.</ITEM>
<ITEM><HI>James Howels</HI> Hi&s;tory of <HI>Venice.</HI></ITEM>
<ITEM>Bi&s;hop <HI>Andrews</HI> &s;econd volume of Ser|mons.</ITEM>
<ITEM>Sir <HI>Robert Howard</HI>'s four Plays.</ITEM>
<ITEM><HI>Wall-Flower,</HI> a Romance.</ITEM>
<ITEM>Mrs. <HI>Phillips</HI> Poems.</ITEM>
<ITEM>Mr. <HI>Abraham Cowley</HI>'s Works.</ITEM>
<ITEM><HI>Ben. John&s;on</HI>'s &s;econd volume.</ITEM>
</LIST>
<LIST>
<HEAD>Quarto's.</HEAD>
<ITEM><HI>Charleton</HI>'s Natural Hi&s;tory.</ITEM>
<ITEM>His Immortality of the &s;oul.</ITEM>
<PB REF="53">
<ITEM>His Hi&s;tory of <HI>Stonehenge.</HI></ITEM>
<ITEM>His Character of the King.</ITEM>
<ITEM><HI>Boyle</HI>'s E&s;&s;aies in <HI>Latine</HI> and <HI>Engli&s;h.</HI></ITEM>
<ITEM><HI>Partheni&s;&s;a,</HI> a Romance, in Five Tomes.</ITEM>
<ITEM><HI>Blunt</HI>'s Art of making Devices.</ITEM>
<ITEM>A Di&s;cour&s;e of Schools and School|ma&s;ters.</ITEM>
<ITEM><HI>Fi&s;her</HI>'s <HI>Ironiodia Gratulatoria.</HI></ITEM>
<ITEM>Civil Right of Tithes.</ITEM>
</LIST>
<LIST>
<HEAD>Octavo's large.</HEAD>
<ITEM><HI>Boyl</HI>'s &s;tyle of Scripture.
<LIST>
<ITEM>His Seraphick Love.</ITEM>
<ITEM>His Hi&s;tory of Colours.</ITEM>
<ITEM>His Reflections.</ITEM>
</LIST></ITEM>
<ITEM><HI>Bergerac</HI>'s Letters.</ITEM>
<ITEM>Humane Indu&s;try.</ITEM>
<ITEM>Humane Soul.</ITEM>
<ITEM>Sir <HI>Robert Howard</HI>'s Poems.</ITEM>
<ITEM>Sir <HI>Thomas Higgons</HI> Poems.</ITEM>
<ITEM>Bu&s;con, or the Witty-Spaniard.</ITEM>
<ITEM>Rats Rym'd to death.</ITEM>
<ITEM><HI>Yelverton</HI>'s Chri&s;tian Religion.</ITEM>
<ITEM>Characters on the Pa&s;&s;ions</ITEM>
<ITEM>All <HI>Horace</HI> in <HI>Engli&s;h.</HI></ITEM>
<ITEM><HI>Carter</HI>'s Heraldry.</ITEM>
<ITEM>Grand difference between <HI>France</HI> and <HI>Spain.</HI></ITEM>
<PB REF="54">
<ITEM><HI>Sucklings</HI> Poems and Remains.</ITEM>
<ITEM><HI>Pa&s;tor fido; Engli&s;h.</HI></ITEM>
<ITEM>Sir <HI>Toby Mathews</HI> Letters.</ITEM>
<ITEM>Court of <HI>Rome.</HI></ITEM>
<ITEM><HI>De-Laines</HI> French Grammer</ITEM>
<ITEM><HI>Evelin</HI> of Imployment</ITEM>
<ITEM><HI>Dryden's Annus Mirabilis.</HI></ITEM>
<ITEM>Quevedo's Vi&s;ions.</ITEM>
<ITEM><HI>Wallers</HI> Poems.</ITEM>
<ITEM><HI>Denhams</HI> Poems.</ITEM>
<ITEM><HI>Donns</HI> Poems.</ITEM>
<ITEM><HI>Cra&s;haws</HI> Poems.</ITEM>
<ITEM>Judgements of God again&s;t Athei&s;me and Prophanene&s;s.</ITEM>
<ITEM><HI>Fleckno</HI>'s Loves Dominion.</ITEM>
<ITEM>The <HI>Ephe&s;ian</HI> Matron.</ITEM>
<ITEM><HI>Cimmerian</HI> Matron, to which is added the Mi&s;teries and Miracles of Love.</ITEM>
</LIST>
<LIST>
<HEAD>Octavo's &s;mall.</HEAD>
<ITEM>Bi&s;hop <HI>King</HI>'s Poems.</ITEM>
<ITEM>Game at <HI>Che&s;s</HI>-Play.</ITEM>
<ITEM><HI>Davenant</HI>'s Declamations</ITEM>
<ITEM><HI>Flecknoes Diarum</HI></ITEM>
<ITEM>Hone&s;t Gho&s;t.</ITEM>
<ITEM><HI>Horace,</HI> his <HI>Odes</HI> and <HI>Epodes.</HI></ITEM>
<ITEM><HI>Kelli&s;on</HI> on the 51 <HI>P&s;alm.</HI></ITEM>
<PB REF="54">
<ITEM>Method of Rea&s;on; <HI>des Cartes.</HI></ITEM>
<ITEM><HI>Mu&s;arum Delitiae.</HI></ITEM>
<ITEM>Pantagruel's Progno&s;tication.</ITEM>
<ITEM>Heroick Education.</ITEM>
<ITEM>Lo. <HI>Ca&s;tlemains</HI> Account of <HI>Candiae.</HI></ITEM>
<ITEM><HI>Carew's</HI> Poems.</ITEM>
<ITEM>Sir <HI>Will. Davenant's Madaga&s;car.</HI></ITEM>
<ITEM>Sir. <HI>Will. Davenants Gondibert.</HI></ITEM>
</LIST>
<LIST>
<HEAD>Large Twelves.</HEAD>
<ITEM><HI>Rawleighs</HI> Gho&s;t.</ITEM>
<ITEM><HI>Gregory Nazianzen's</HI> Orations in Eng|li&s;h.</ITEM>
<ITEM>Bi&s;hop <HI>Kings</HI> P&s;alms.</ITEM>
<ITEM><HI>Mazarines</HI> and <HI>Oliver Cromwels</HI> De&s;ign to &s;urpri&s;e <HI>O&s;tend.</HI></ITEM>
</LIST>
<LIST>
<HEAD>Small Twelves.</HEAD>
<ITEM><HI>Amourus Fanta&s;me,</HI> a Play.</ITEM>
<ITEM><HI>Enchanted Lovers,</HI> a Play.</ITEM>
<ITEM><HI>Bal&s;acs</HI> Conver&s;on of the Roman.</ITEM>
</LIST>
<LIST>
<HEAD><HI>PLAYES,</HI> Folio and Quarto.</HEAD>
<ITEM>Adventures of Five hours.</ITEM>
<ITEM><HI>Mu&s;tapha.</HI></ITEM>
<PB REF="55">
<ITEM><HI>Henry</HI> the Fifth.</ITEM>
<ITEM>Ju&s;t Italian.</ITEM>
<ITEM>Unfortunate Lovers.</ITEM>
<ITEM>Love and Honour.</ITEM>
<ITEM><HI>Albovine</HI> King of the <HI>Lombards.</HI></ITEM>
<ITEM>Cruel Brothers.</ITEM>
<ITEM>Cruelty of the <HI>Spaniards</HI> in <HI>Peru.</HI></ITEM>
<ITEM>Hi&s;tory of Sir <HI>Francis Drake.</HI></ITEM>
<ITEM>Siege of <HI>Rhodes,</HI> fir&s;t and &s;econd Parts.</ITEM>
<ITEM>Nuptial of <HI>Felius</HI> and <HI>Thetis.</HI></ITEM>
<ITEM>The Widow, a Comedy.</ITEM>
<ITEM>Love in a Tub.</ITEM>
<ITEM>Rival Ladies, a Comedy.</ITEM>
<ITEM><HI>Indian</HI> Emperour.</ITEM>
<ITEM><HI>Amazone</HI> Queen.</ITEM>
<ITEM><HI>Pompey</HI> the Great.</ITEM>
<ITEM>Maiden Queen.</ITEM>
<ITEM>The U&s;urper, a Tragedy.</ITEM>
<ITEM><HI>Cutter</HI> of <HI>Coleman&s;treet.</HI></ITEM>
<ITEM>The Carnival, a Comedy.</ITEM>
<ITEM>Mayor of <HI>Queenborough.</HI></ITEM>
<ITEM><HI>Tarugo</HI>'s Wiles, or the Coffee-hou&s;e.</ITEM>
<ITEM>Duke of <HI>Lerma.</HI></ITEM>
<ITEM>Villain, a Tragedy.</ITEM>
<ITEM><HI>Dryden</HI>'s E&s;&s;ay of Poe&s;ie.</ITEM>
<ITEM>Duel of the Staggs.</ITEM>
</LIST>
<PB REF="55">
</DIV1>
</BACK>
</TEXT>
</EEBO>
</ETS>
